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natsaffection · 14 days ago

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Redline. (Bonus 4) | N.R

Older!Motorsportboss!Natasha × Younger!Racing!Driver!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (N= 32, r=23), 18+! MINORS DNI! Restraints (handcuffs), strap on use, blowjob, oral (n receiving), strap riding

Word count: 3,8k

A/N: That was fun..

You were sitting in a team meeting, eyes blankly fixed on the screen where telemetry charts blinked in rhythmic flashes. Data, stats, numbers, normally you were locked into them. But today, the entire thing washed over you like white noise.

Because you weren’t thinking about tire degradation. Or fuel windows. Or even the race coming up. You were thinking about Natasha. It was just a flash in your mind, but it made your stomach twist with heat and giddiness.

Across the table, Natasha’s brows lifted. “Something funny, detka?”

You flinched like a kid caught daydreaming in class. “N-Nope. Just-uh. Sector times.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed playfully. She knew. Not what you were thinking, but that it wasn’t sector times. Your face flushed. You gave a quick nod, muttered something about needing water, and bolted out of the meeting room, heart pounding.

You took a breath and let it out slowly, willing your skin to cool down. But the image..Natasha beneath you, panting..refused to leave. Then, just ahead near the security booth, you spotted a man you barely knew by name, fiddling with a pair of standard-issue handcuffs.

You slowed, watching him casually twist them around his fingers. Something inside you clicked. Perfect.

With a growing smirk, you approached. “Hi!” you called gently.

The guard nearly dropped the cuffs. “Oh! Uh- Ms. L/n, h-hello!”

You grinned, holding back a laugh at how pink he turned. “No need to panic. I just…saw the cuffs.” You motioned to his hands. “Think I could borrow them for a few days?”

He blinked. “The…The cuffs?”

“Yes..” you nodded, completely casual, though your heart was racing. “Not for, like, arresting people. Just…practice.” You offered a crooked smile that probably didn’t help.

He stared for a beat, then nodded so hard it nearly shook his cap off. “Y-Yeah! Of course! You can totally- uh, here.” He offered them with both hands like you were royalty.

You took them carefully, feeling the cold weight of them in your palms.

“Thanks, really.” you said.

“I know you’re probably busy…but…my kids are a huge fan! C-Could we make a photo?”

“Of course! You gave me your cuffs. Least I can do.” He fumbled his phone out so fast he nearly dropped it, and you leaned in with a bright smile, snapping a quick photo before giving him a quick wave and strolling off, handcuffs tucked in your hoodie pocket, heart pounding.

Now, your room became a workshop. The cuffs lay on the table beside your laptop as you queued up video after video, escape artists, magicians, tactical demos. All of them showing quick, fluid techniques. One-handed flips, snap-click-lock or misdirection.

You practiced until your wrist ached. Pick up from the left. Fake a caress. Flip. Click. Pick up from behind. Loop the wrist. Snap it shut in one smooth motion.

You dropped them at least twenty times. Cursed under your breath just as often. But the vision..Natasha, hands locked above her head, blinking in surprise as you stepped back with a devilish smile, kept you going.

You rehearsed your lines in the mirror, cheeks warm with nerves. Sometimes you had to stop, burying your face in your hands and giggling like a teenager. But each night, you got faster. Smoother. Until you could click both cuffs shut in under three seconds. It had to be fast.. Because Natasha didn’t surrender easily.

Days later, the door slammed shut behind you, laughter and adrenaline still buzzing between kisses. You didn’t even remember how you’d made it from the car to the apartment, just that Natasha’s lips hadn’t left yours once.

Natasha was already pressing your back toward the bed, her hands firm on your waist, guiding you like she always did, in control, composed, knowing exactly where this was going.

But tonight, you had other plans..You crashed onto the mattress in a tangle, mouths locked, breath sharp, bodies already buzzing from the familiar fire between you. Natasha’s hand was sliding under your shirt, her thigh nudging between your legs, her rhythm confident, possessive.

Just like always.

You kissed her harder, then shifted. A quick twist. A practiced motion. Natasha landed with a soft grunt on her back. You moved fast, crawling over her, straddling her hips as your fingers dipped behind the pillow, feeling the cool bite of metal.

Natasha didn’t even blink, her hands tugging at your shirt now, eyes hooded. “Mmm, taking charge tonight?” she teased, voice dark velvet.

“Something like that..” you murmured, leaning down to kiss her again, slow this time, deep and purposeful. And as she reached up to cup your jaw..click.

You pulled back. One of Natasha’s wrists was now bound to the bedframe. There was a second of stunned silence. Natasha blinked. Looked up. A flash of confusion, a flicker of surprise, then amusement blooming like wildfire across her face.

You sat back on your thighs, grinning ear to ear, eyes sparkling like a kid who just pulled off the prank of the century.

“Oh my God..” you whispered, practically vibrating. “It actually worked!!”

Natasha laughed softly, raising a brow. “You planned this?”

You nodded, still catching your breath. “For days. Like..full-blown practicing. On myself. On a chair. I made your security guy give me the cuffs.”

“Wait- Mark gave you his cuffs?”

“He was so flustered he didn’t even ask why..” you laughed. “I gave him a selfie to say thanks.”

Natasha just shook her head in disbelief, still half-laughing. Her free hand was resting on your thigh now, her touch light but warm. “You little thief.”

For a moment, Natasha simply stared at you. And then, she raised her free hand and snapped her fingers.

“Key.”

You reached into your pocket, took the small key between your fingers, and flicked it, sailing it across the room, where it landed somewhere.

Natasha’s brow shot up. “…You didn’t.”

“I did.”

Natasha laughed, a low, dangerous, almost impressed sound. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that..”

She gave the cuff another pull, testing it. Realizing it wasn’t going to budge. Her muscles flexed under you, strong and coiled, and her eyes locked on yours, sharp and unreadable. “You sure you know what you’re doing? You think you can handle me like this?”

You leaned in, lips brushing her ear as you whispered, “I don’t think I can. I know I will.”

Natasha exhaled through her nose, eyes dark with challenge now. “You better make it worth it, sweetheart. Because when I get out of these…” Her free hand trailed slowly down your thigh, grip firm. “You’ll be begging.”

You grinned, hips shifting just right as you settled in. “Guess.. I better make you beg first.”

Natasha leaned back into the pillow, watching you with a predator’s patience. One wrist still cuffed to the bed, the other resting lazily on her stomach like this was just another game she’d already won. But her eyes… they tracked every movement, sharp and focused.

Your hands moved slowly, purposefully, as you started to peel away Natasha’s clothes. Every inch of exposed skin earned you a lingering look, that trademark Romanoff smirk never fading.

“Careful, malysh (baby),” Natasha drawled, voice low and thick with heat. “You undress me like that, and I might think you’re trying to seduce me.”

You just smiled, sweet, smug, and pushed Natasha’s pants down past her hips.

And paused.

Your eyes widened for just a second, a breath catching in your throat as you realized what Natasha was already wearing beneath.

A harness. Strap in place., ready and waiting. “Wha-” you blinked, somewhere between stunned and amused. “You were…you had this on?”

Natasha chuckled, low and dangerous. “You’re not the only one who had plans tonight.”

You looked up, eyes glinting. Natasha tilted her head, smirking like a cat who’d let the mouse think it had a chance. “You want it?” she teased, flexing her hips slightly. “Unlock me. And maybe I’ll let you ride it properly.”

But you didn’t move for the cuffs. Instead, you shifted, lowering yourself between Natasha’s thighs, your mouth now dangerously close to the toy. Your fingers slid over the harness, gaze locked onto hers.

“I’ll use it just fine, thank you..” you murmured and then you wrapped your lips around the tip.

Natasha’s smirk faltered. Her mouth parted, eyes going a little wider as she watched you suck slowly, deliberately, dragging your tongue along the underside like you meant to break her. Her free hand clenched the sheets.

“God..” Natasha breathed, hips shifting instinctively.

You glanced up at her, teasing, and went deeper, taking more of the strap into your mouth, slow, wet sounds filling the room. You hollowed your cheeks, working it like you were showing off, like you knew exactly how much it was affecting her.

And Natasha was affected. Badly. She tugged on the cuff again, harder this time. The chain clinked against the bedframe. “You-” she gasped, a small laugh breaking through her curse. “You little brat…”

You pulled back just enough to speak, your voice smug and sweet against the toy. “Still think I can’t handle it?”

Natasha swallowed hard, chest rising and falling with growing tension. “You’re so in trouble when I get out of these..”

You just grinned, lips brushing the base of the strap as you whispered, “Then maybe I’ll keep you there a while longer.”

And without another word, you took the whole thing in, deep, slow, confident, watching Natasha struggle. She was staring down at you, breathing heavier now, eyes slightly glazed, like she couldn’t decide whether to smirk or moan.

“You look so cute like this..” you murmured, voice low. Your fingers trailed slowly over Natasha’s hips as you moved down again,

Natasha’s free hand curled into the sheets. “You’re proud of yourself, huh?” she rasped, voice rough with tension.

You didn’t answer. You just settled between her thighs, nudging them wider. Your hands slid up, palms smooth against soft skin, and then..Your tongue met her core.

The reaction was instant. Natasha tensed, hips twitching off the bed, a soft gasp escaping before she could stop it. She grit her teeth, chest rising sharply, her arm pulling against the cuff again.

You smiled into her. You started slow, using your tongue with purpose, teasing circles and flicks that made her thighs tremble.

Natasha exhaled harshly through her nose, trying to stay quiet, trying to keep her body still. She bit her bottom lip, eyes locked on the ceiling, muscles taut like a wire about to snap.

But then..You found that spot. You pressed your tongue there, slow and firm, then sucked, just once, deep and focused.

Natasha bucked. “F-Fuck—!” The curse burst from her mouth, sharp and unfiltered. Her head snapped back, eyes fluttering shut as her body jerked. She yanked hard against the cuff, her free hand flying to the headboard like she could tear the whole damn thing apart.

You moaned softly at the reaction, proud and fueled by it. You pulled back just enough to whisper, breath hot against her core, “You love this.”

Natasha panted, teeth clenched. “Y/n, Fuck you.”

You laughed, low and dangerous. “Maybe later..”

And then you dove back in, tongue working faster, deeper, mouth devouring her like you wanted to leave her breathless and wrecked. Every twitch, every shaky breath, every curse spilling from her lips only pushed you further.

She tried to hold back, tried to keep the illusion of control, but it was slipping.. You could feel the tension coiling beneath her skin like a live wire. Her thighs trembled with every flick of your tongue, and her breath came in ragged bursts, sharp, guttural, completely unguarded.

But she still hadn’t said the word. Not the one you wanted to hear. You smirked against her, dragging your tongue in slow, lazy strokes, circling her clit without pressure, just enough to make her need it, not enough to let her fall. You flattened your tongue and licked her again, then pulled away entirely, letting your breath ghost over her skin.

She cursed under her breath, hips jerking up, chasing the contact. “Oh? That close already?” you purred, kissing her inner thigh. “And you haven’t even told me what you want..”

You looked up through your lashes. Natasha’s eyes were dark, lips parted, chest rising and falling fast. She was beautiful. Ruined. Desperate. But still clinging to her pride.

“Hah…” she exhaled through her teeth, free hand gripping the sheets hard. “You think this is new to me, baby? You think I haven’t been edged before?”

You laughed softly. “Yeah, but not by me..Common Nat..”

Then you leaned back in and sucked her clit, deep and wet, just for a second. Natasha cried out, still not a single word, not a plea, just a raw, broken sound. Her hips bucked hard, her body chasing every inch of pressure like it was the only thing grounding her.

You pulled back again. “You gonna ask for it?” you whispered, licking your lips.

Natasha shook her head, breathing hard. “No fucking way.”

You raised a brow. “You sound like you’re about to lose your mind.”

“Y/n.” she hissed.

You kissed the inside of her thigh again, dragged your nails lightly down her skin, then dipped your head once more, letting your tongue work with new intensity, hard, fast, deep.

And she lost it. She rolled her hips, chasing every flick of your tongue. Her head slammed back against the pillow, one arm still restrained, the other clenched in the sheets so tight it might rip them apart.

Still..no begging. Just gasps, groans and curses. You pressed your tongue flat again, relentless, never breaking rhythm. You knew she was there, right there, teetering, and you didn’t plan to let her fall until she was exactly where you wanted her.

“You’re shaking..” you whispered, licking slowly up again. “Please Natasha..let me hear it..”

Natasha grit her teeth, eyes fluttering shut. “I swear t-to god…”

You smiled. “Still not?”

Her only answer was a strangled moan that sounded almost like a yes. And you accepted it.. So you went all in, tongue deep, rhythm perfect, sucking and circling and dragging her right into release.

She screamed..a raw, guttural sound, hips jerking, body writhing, orgasm ripping through her. Her hand pulled at the cuff like she could tear the bed apart, thighs clamped around your head as wave after wave hit her.

Still, no: “please.” Just wild, shattered moans. You didn’t stop until she collapsed, chest heaving, eyes blown wide with aftershock.

Then you crawled up her body, kissed the corner of her mouth, and whispered, “That was better than begging.”

Natasha lay there chest rising and falling, one arm bound, the other limp on the sheets, knuckles white from how hard she’d gripped them. A slow smirk crept across her face, heavy-lidded eyes meeting yours as you leaned up slightly.

“Huh..” she breathed, voice rough and low, “you really went for it..I can’t believe it..” She whispered while brushing a bit of sweat from her forehead.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, flushed and proud, crawling back up her body.

“You did good..” Natasha added, a cocky gleam in her eye despite how wrecked she looked. “I’ll give you that.”

You smiled sweetly…Too sweet. “Thanks.” you said simply, brushing a kiss to her cheek.

Natasha let her eyes fall shut for a moment, until she felt movement. Her eyes fluttered open again…and froze.

You were straddling her again. But this time? You weren’t going down to tease. You were going up.

Natasha’s breath caught as you positioned yourself over the strap still strapped to her hips, slick, already aching. Your hands rested on her stomach for balance, your expression calm…but your eyes burned with intent.

“Wait-” Natasha said, a slow smirk forming. “You’re not-”

You didn’t answer. You just started to lower yourself. Natasha’s pupils snapped wide.

“Y/n-” she grunted, jerking at the cuff instinctively, the chain clanging against the headboard with a force that made your head snap around.

You blinked. That was a strong pull. For a second, your eyes flicked up toward the frame, half-worried the metal might actually snap.

Natasha noticed. Her smirk turned lethal. “Oh?” she purred, voice dripping with danger. “You’re nervous now?”

You looked back at her slowly, a little breathless…but still smiling. “N-No.”

You lowered yourself further. The strap pushed inside you, slick and easy, but thick enough to make you gasp. Your fingers tightened on Natasha’s stomach.

Her jaw tensed, her arm flexing again. You exhaled slowly, rolling your hips downward inch by inch. You took it all the way in.

Seated flush against her. And Natasha groaned loud, helpless, her head falling back against the pillow as her hips instinctively tried to thrust, but had nowhere to go. All she could do was feel it.

“Jesus..” she choked out. “You’re- fuck, you’re soaked..”

You ground your hips in a slow circle, the pressure hitting just right. “I wonder why..”

You straightened again, hands sliding up your own body, down your thighs as you began to ride harder, deeper..slow, grinding, working yourself against the strap like you owned it. Like you owned her.

Natasha cursed under her breath, head tossing against the pillow. Her hips tried to follow, to thrust up, but with one hand chained and you in complete control, she couldn’t do anything but take it.

“Y/n..” she gasped. “You’re gonna make- feel so—!”

Another roll of your hips cut her off. Another deep, wet sound as you slid back down. Natasha’s eyes snapped shut, her chest arching, jaw clenched so hard it looked like it hurt. “I can’t-” she hissed.

You slowed again, pulling back until only the tip remained inside you, teasing the edge. Natasha whimpered..whimpered! And it wasn’t even intentional. You leaned down, your breath brushing over her mouth. “Can’t what, Natty?”

Her eyes fluttered open, dark, desperate, wrecked. She didn’t say the word..She couldn’t. But her eyes were begging. And you saw it.

You kissed her hard, biting, dominant, then sat back up, thighs trembling now from the slow burn as you dropped back down onto the strap, deep and hard, a slick sound filling the space between your bodies.

Natasha moaned, long, loud, involuntary. Her hand pulled at the cuff again, the chain rattling violently. “Y/n! G-God!!” Her voice was wrecked now, breathless, right on the edge. “You’re gonna- drive me fucking insane..”

You grinned, riding with perfect rhythm now, grinding deep against her, back arching as you let yourself chase the high. “That’s the plan.”

And Natasha? Helpless. Breathless. Drenched. Her mind slipping between pleasure and surrender, just barely holding onto that last thread of control.

She was breaking. Every inch of her body was flushed, trembling beneath you, breath ragged, voice reduced to raw, gasping moans. Her cuffed hand was bruised from how hard she’d pulled, and the other, finally reached up, grabbing at your waist, your side, anything she could touch.

“I need to-” Natasha groaned, fingers digging in. “Let me- fuck, I need—”

Your eyes widened slightly at the strength in her grip. Even in this state, she could flip you if she wanted.

But not this time. You grabbed her wrist with both hands, firm, focused, and pushed it back down to the bed.

“No touching..” you whispered, voice trembling with lust. “You don’t get to take tonight, Nat..”

Natasha let out a frustrated, wild noise, somewhere between a growl and a moan. “You’re.. gonna kill me..”

You leaned down, panting into her ear, hips slamming down hard onto the strap. You locked eyes with her, hands pinning her down, both arms restrained, one by cold metal, the other by your strength and sheer desire.

And then..You rode her. No more teasing. No more games. Just fast, filthy, relentless rhythm. Wetness coating everything. The sound of skin on skin filling the room. Your hips slammed down again and again, the strap hitting deep, you grinding hard against it with every bounce, every drop.

Natasha was gone. Her head tossed, mouth wide open, moans choked and broken. Her thighs flexed, her whole body trembling, helpless beneath you.

“Y/n- fuck- I’m..!” And she came.

Harder than before..louder, rawer, her voice breaking on your name. Her hips jolted, back arching off the bed, trembling uncontrollably.

And still..you didn’t stop. You chased your own release, using her body as your anchor. You moaned, breath hitching, the sight of her flushed and ruined pushing you over.

“Fuck..” you gasped, thighs shaking. “I’m gonna..Natasha—oh my G-God!”

You came with a cry, slamming down one last time, your body locking up as the orgasm ripped through you. Your nails dug into her wrists, your whole body trembling as you collapsed forward, grinding softly through the aftershocks.

And when you finally pulled away, the angle shifted. And the tip dragged just right against her again.

“Y-Y/n!” she gasped, body jolting. Her head dropped back, eyes squeezing shut as a choked moan escaped her throat.

You froze, wide-eyed. “s-sorry, I didn’t-”

Natasha let out a breathless laugh, arm flopping over her face. “Careful…” she groaned, voice shaking.

You bit your lip, trying not to smile. “Didn’t think that would still hit…”

Natasha peeked at you from under her arm, eyes glassy, lips parted, utterly wrecked. “It hit.”

You chuckled, spotted the key in the corner of the room, and carefully climbed off her. Your hands were still shaking as you picked it up.

When you turned back, Natasha was watching you. Flat on her back, one arm still cuffed, eyes half-lidded but focused now. That smirk from earlier? Gone. Replaced by something unreadable.

You chewed your bottom lip, key tight in your fingers. “You have to promise..” you said softly.

Natasha tilted her head. “Promise what?”

“That you won’t…” you hesitated, glancing at her body, then back up. “Flip this. Take over. The moment I let you go.”

She raised a brow, eyes gleaming. She said nothing. You narrowed your eyes. “Nat.”

Still nothing. Just that faint smile growing. You stepped back. “I’m not unlocking you.”

That earned a low laugh. “You’re bluffing..”

You didn’t move. And this time…she realized you weren’t. She let out a slow breath. “Fine.”

You waited. “I promise.” she said finally, voice low and warm. “I won’t do anything…without your permission.”

You searched her eyes for a long second. Then, slowly, you moved forward. You climbed onto the bed, into her space, and carefully slid the key into the lock.

With a soft click, the cuff popped open. A second passed. Maybe two- She moved like lightning. Flipping you beneath her in one fluid motion, your wrists immediately caught and pinned above your head.

You gasped, eyes wide. “Y-You promised!”

Natasha leaned down, nose brushing yours, eyes dark with heat.

“I did.” she whispered. “And I’m keeping it.” She didn’t move further. Didn’t dominate. Just held you there. Breathing the same air.

You blinked up at her, stunned. And then she kissed you. When she pulled back, her voice was barely a murmur. “Thank you for tonight.”

You swallowed. “You’re not mad?”

Natasha smiled, brushing her nose against yours. “Are you kidding? I’ve never been more turned on.”

Her grip softened. Her forehead rested gently against yours.

“But next time…” she whispered, lips brushing your ear, “You better run after you unlock me.”

You laughed, heart pounding. “Deal.”

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sabrinasopposite · 3 months ago

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friends or lovers?

pt. 2 of drinks or coffee / college!charlie baker x photographer!reader

summary: stolen kisses, polaroids, photo booths, coffee and a questionable situationship. y/n waits till charlie ask her finally out, or are they just friends?

Autumn folds itself over New York like an old, beloved quilt—warm, golden, frayed at the edges. The air smells of cinnamon and rain-damp pavement, and somewhere between the red-brick college buildings and the quiet hum of late afternoon, y/n finds herself seeing Charlie Baker through a different lens.

They are not together. Not officially. But there are Polaroids of him in a box beneath her bed, tucked between receipts of late-night coffee runs and half-melted red lipsticks he once pressed a kiss against. There are moments—his laughter curling like smoke in the cold air, his hands brushing against hers when he hands her a camera, his eyes catching hers across a room—that make her wonder if she is something more than just a passing season to him.

She never asks. And he never says.

They start hanging out after class, in the spaces between their lives where time stretches slow and golden. She teaches him how to take professional pictures, and he watches her like she is the one worth capturing.

“Like this,” y/n murmurs, adjusting the lens. Her fingers, delicate but sure, guide his hands over the camera. Charlie is a quick learner, but he’s distracted today—his gaze flickering to the way her lashes kiss her cheekbones when she blinks, the way the afternoon light pools against the dip of her collarbone. He wants to tell her she is beautiful, but instead, he just says, “I think I like this.”

y/n only hums in response. Photography. Her. He isn’t sure anymore.

but later, when he isn’t looking, she takes a picture of him—grease-smudged and sun-drenched, working on his car, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A moment preserved. A secret, just for her.

He buys her a camera with his own money.

y/n doesn’t expect it. She unwraps the box with careful fingers, her breath catching when she sees the sleek, familiar frame—the model she had offhandedly mentioned wanting months ago.

“Charlie…”

His hands are stuffed into his pockets, but he shrugs, looking almost sheepish. “Your old one’s been acting up.”

She swallows around the lump in her throat, her heart pressing against her ribs like it wants to escape. This is more than a gift. It is him paying attention. It is him remembering. It is him saying something without saying it at all.

She doesn’t know how to thank him, so she just steps forward and wraps her arms around him, her cheek pressed against his chest. He stiffens for half a second before exhaling, his hands finding the small of her back. He holds her there, warm and solid, and she wonders how she is supposed to go back to being just his friend after this.

Their first kiss happened in a photobooth.

It is supposed to be a joke—crowding into the small space, laughing as they press against each other. The first photo is blurry, their smiles mid-motion. The second, exaggerated faces. The third—something quieter. Softer. A moment where y/n’s breath stutters because she is suddenly aware of how close they are, of the way Charlie’s gaze drops to her red lips, of the way time seems to hold its breath.

The fourth click of the camera catches the moment his mouth brushes hers.

A kiss, caught in black and white, immortalized before either of them fully register it.

Later, y/n keeps the photo strip in her box, between a napkin from the coffee shop where they sat too close and the memory of his hands laced with hers. But they do not talk about it. They never do.

Her friend asks one day, with an arched brow and a knowing smile, “Are you and Charlie dating?”

y/n hesitates. Laughs it off. “No, we’re just friends.” The words taste strange on her tongue. Because in her lenses, they looked like a couple. Like a couple of a movie or a book, simply the good looking guy from college likes the photographer girl. But it was more than that, Charlie was more than that.

He was like a shot of espresso, being bathed in sunlight when he was around y/n. She made him feel like the best version of himself, without even trying. But for y/n, Charlie was her eternal sunshine. He was perfect for her imperfectness.

But then she hears it—Beth’s name, mentioned in passing by one of Charlie’s friends. His ex. The one who texted him after he soft-launched y/n on Instagram, a blurry photo of her in golden light, captioned with nothing but a heart.

It’s nothing, they say. Probably just a casual message. But y/n feels it settle in her stomach like a stone. What if she’s just the in-between? The girl who is there because Charlie is lonely, because it’s easy, because autumn is fleeting, and so is she?

She doesn’t want to be the other woman. The placeholder.

So she pulls away.

Missed messages. Half-hearted smiles. Excuses.

Charlie notices.

It was a Friday afternoon, where the sun was disappearing from its sky and the stars were slowly shining around. Charlie found y/n in Central Park. She had left her phone in her dorm, wandering the city with her camera slung over her shoulder, trying to quiet the thoughts unraveling inside her. She took pictures of golden leaves reflected in puddles when the sun was still there, of strangers lost in laughter, of the sky stretching endlessly above her. She had planned to go to her favorite vintage cinema, lose herself in old film reels and dim lighting, but before she could, Charlie was there—winded, breathless, searching.

“There you are,” he exhales. y/n looks up at him, the weight in her chest pressing deeper.

“Where have you been?” he asks, voice softer now. “We were supposed to meet at our coffee shop.”

Her hands tighten around her camera. And then, before she can stop herself— “What are we?” she blurts. The more she looked at him, the more she felt. That was simple. Thats what she liked when she was around Charlie, he wasn’t an adjustment like in cameras. He was there that she could simply just tell everything, without pulling back or like adjust her camera for its perfectness.

Charlie’s expression shifts, his features caught between surprise and something more careful. “What do you want me to be?”

y/n thinks of the Polaroids, the coffee receipts, the soft-lipped kisses caught in frozen frames. She thinks of the way she feels when he looks at her like she’s something worth capturing. “I want us to be us,” she whispers. “More than just friends.”

Charlie’s face softens, and then— A slow, brilliant smile spreads across his lips, like the first crack of sunlight after a storm. “I was waiting for the right moment to ask you,” he admits. “But it seems you stole my moment or idea.”

Her laugh is a breath of relief, a quiet surrender. And when he kisses her this time, in front of the vintage theater, beneath the endless city sky, it is not something to be tucked away in a box.

It is something to be lived.

Something to be real, which was more worth than a camera pic.

y/n would have never guessed that being stuck in a lame and bad party, would give her the best thing like Charlie.

🍒 ps: I heard that y/n has polaroid pictures of shirtless charlie------ 💌: @blackynsupremacy @alelo23 @angelsgalore @collywobblvs @tvdelrey @tinainaction @seulgi-burgundy @floralscented @artyandink

#charlie baker x fem!reader #charlie baker x reader #cheaper by the dozen #charlie baker #charlie baker au #charlie baker fanfics #charlie baker fluff #drinks or coffee #tom welling #clark kent x reader #smallville x reader #clark kent fics #smallville #tom welling cheaper by the dozen #tom welling x reader

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rottenpumpkin13 · 3 months ago

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ASG go to the mall: what chaos ensues and who comes along for the ride?

Things that happen at the mall, a list

• Genesis drags everyone into a high-end fashion store, loudly proclaiming it's time for "cultural enrichment." Sephiroth is trying to figure out why pants come pre-ripped, holding up a pair of distressed jeans and asking "Is this a defective product?" Angeal doesn't answer because he saw a plain white tee for 12,000 gil and is having a heart attack.

• Sephiroth discovers bubble tea and likes it, but he drinks too fast, and ignores Genesis when he tells Sephiroth to slow down. "I like this, I wonder if they have chocolate—hhhaakkkhh!" <- the choking sounds of a man who has underestimated the power of tapioca pearls.

• Angeal lectures a teenage shoplifter about honor and dignity for so long, the kid hands over the stolen bracelet, his wallet, and a half-eaten sandwich just to escape. "Take it all, man, I swear I'll never sin again."

• Sephiroth stands motionless in front of a pet store window, making intense eye contact with a hamster for concerning periods of time. He's concerned. "This creature's containment seems inadequate for its potential. I've seen it devise seventeen possible escape routes in the last five minutes." Angeal and Genesis then have to drag him away because he wants to purchase the hamster to then free it.

• Angeal clips coupons. So many coupons. He has a special folder for them organized by expiration date and Genesis pretends not to know him at the checkout when he pulls out a meticulously organized binder to save 50 gil on premium shampoo. Sephiroth, noticing Genesis' mortification, helpfully announces "I can confirm this is indeed Angeal Hewley of SOLDIER First Class, and that's his childhood friend, Genesis Rhapsodos hiding his face in his coat" to the entire store.

• Sephiroth gets trapped in a crowd of elderly mall walkers who are completely unafraid of him. They keep pinching his cheeks, calling him "such a nice young man," and insisting he needs to eat more. One particularly bold grandmother tries to set him up with her granddaughter while showing him photos from her wallet

• Sephiroth discovers one of those massage chairs and spends an 20 minutes in it with a completely unchanged expression.

Genesis: Are you enjoying it? Sephiroth: This device's attempt to defeat my muscle tension is admirable but futile. *Genesis cranks up the setting* Sephiroth: *purring* Genesis: ?

• Angeal's trip to a fancy kitchenware store lasts 2 minutes. He finds a 400 gil banana peeler and has a nervous breakdown.

• Genesis and Sephiroth enter a gaming arcade "for posterity."

Genesis: This is where the youth of today come to hone their strategic skills. Sephiroth, watching a person playing DDR aggressively twerk: Oh my god.

• They pass a photo booth, and Genesis insists they need "documentation of this expedition." The resulting photos show:

Photo 1: An awkward photo where all three of these 6-foot-something men built like trees are trying to fit into the booth. Genesis' hand is in Angeal's face. Sephiroth is a ailver blur of motion because he's falling. Chaos. Photo 2: Sephiroth sitting rigidly with his perfect posture, holding a fake mustache above his lip like he's been forced into this at gunpoint, while Genesis and Angeal are yelling at him to smile. Photo 3: A nice, normal photo of them smiling <3 Photo 4: Looks like a renaissance painting. Zack pulled open the curtain because he recognized them from afar. Genesis is dramatically fallen back, draped across Angeal because he fainted from the surprise. Angeal has a bloody nose because as Genesis fell he punched him in the nose. Zack is excitedly waving at them. Sephiroth is looking directly into the camera, eyes screaming "help."

#ff7 #final fantasy 7 #ffvii #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #crisis core

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 11 months ago

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CYOA Chapter 56 Snippet

On Tuesday morning, James awakens to find that Beatrice Booth has followed him on Instagram.

He follows her back immediately.

It's only polite.

Polite and fair, particularly to Remus, who has sent James one or two screen recordings—featuring Lily, of course—from Beatrice's stories over the past couple of weeks. Paranoid about being perceived as one of the (likely millions) of people who viewed her stories and getting rumbled for his obsession with her best friend, James has refused to view them. Remus has been his mole; his man on the inside. He'll never have to compromise his ethics in such a way again.

He peruses her account over his morning coffee, noting (with some surprise) from the bright green ring around her profile photo that he's been added to her close friends list already, but his attention is quickly caught by her latest public post: a slow motion video of Lily Evans, zipping along Oxford Street on an e-scooter with a foot popped behind her and her head thrown back, tongue peeping coyly at the camera, set to the tune of Chamillionaire's Ridin', because why the fuck not? They're all millennials here.

Sexy little whippet is the only comment Beatrice has replied to, with several fire emojis to denote her agreement, and it's Lily's friend Emily who left it.

Too fucking right, she's sexy.

She's had him all hot and bothered more than once over the past few days.

#sarah's choose your own adventure fanfic #snippet

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lesbehonestsstuff · 5 months ago

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Catholic guilt - part 6

Casey Novak has always been the good catholic girl. Always perfect, always trying to meet high expectations. But she doesn't understand why she feels no interested in the boys who flirted with her, why her eyes instead linger on other girls.

Word count: 2371

Chapter 6/7

I was rushing with deadlines but I finally got time to write so here you go

The day had gone by and Casey had barely moved. She lay there barely able to breathe. The motion felt too hard, the pressure hurting her ribs. She was staring up at the ceiling, the tears that were falling catching on the soft brown fur of the bear. The room felt smaller, suffocating, the walls closing in on her. Her father’s words echoed in her head, “I’ll make you normal if it kills me.”

She wasnt broken, she wasnt something he could fix. Her entire life she had been living under their pressure and she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t let them send her away. She couldn’t lose Alex.

The thought of being torn from the only person who truly loved all of her, who understood her—it send another rush of tears down her face. She couldn’t stay, her father would make sure she was gone by tomorrow. They would force her into that camp, try to erase everything she was, make her forget the love she had for Alex.

She couldn’t let that happen.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she sat up, wiping the tears from her eyes. She knew what she had to do. She couldn’t stay here, not with them. Not after she knew what they’d do.

Quietly, Casey got up and grabbed her backpack from the floor. She moved quickly, her hands shaking as she stuffed it with the most important things she could find—some clothes, her favorite sweater, the one she had stolen from Alex months ago, her favorite book filled with images and a photo from the Photo Booth she and Alex had taken, all of it hiding in its pages.

She opened the door to her room and heard them downstairs, dishes clinging and her fathers voice rough and loud as it always was. She took the chance to run to their room, to the box of documents her mother kept under their bed and quickly grabbed what was hers. Everything else she left behind. There wasn’t time. She needed to get out.

Wiping her the rest of her tears with the back of her hand, Casey shoved everything in her bag and crossed the room to the window. She stopped for a second looking back at all the memories, all the things she was leaving behind. It made her ache to know that her life would never be the same, that her parents were so hateful they had pushed her to this point. If she stayed she would be gone, so she would go before they could take her.

Grabbing the bear Alex had won for her and stuffing it at the top of her backpack she went to her window. The latch clicked softly as she unlocked it, the cool night air rushing in as she pushed the glass up. She hesitated for a moment when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, glancing back toward the door. If he heard her, if he caught her leaving, she didn’t know what he’d do. But she wasn’t waiting around to find out.

With a deep breath, Casey climbed out onto the roof, it had gotten dark and she used it to her advantage, her movements quick and careful. She’d done this a dozen times before to sneak out, but tonight it felt different. Tonight she wasn’t sneaking away, she was escaping.

The gravel crunched under her feet as she dropped down onto the driveway below. Without looking back, she ran. The wind whipped through her hair, and the cool night air stung her cheeks, but she didn’t slow down. Her heart pounded in her chest, her pulse racing as she made her way to Alex’s house, each step fueled by desperation and fear.

By the time she reached Alex’s house, her lungs were burning, and her legs felt like lead. She scrambled around to the side, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She could see Alex inside asleep on the couch, the tv illuminating her features. She tapped on the window trying to get her attention.

She could see Alex slowly wake up, looking around confused until their eyes locked together Alex’s came closer rushing to the window, her brows furrowed in confusion at first, but the second she saw Casey’s tear-streaked face, the confusion melted into concern.

Alex pushed the window open, leaning out. “Casey?” Her voice was soft, but Casey could hear the worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Let me in,” Casey choked out, her voice shaking, desperate with sobs that wanted to crawl out her throat. “Please.”

Without hesitation, Alex disappeared for a second, and Casey heard the sound of her unlocking the back door. She rushed to meet her, and as soon as Alex opened the door, Casey crashed into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Alex’s arms tightened around her immediately, holding her close. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Alex murmured, her voice gentle, though panic was creeping into her tone. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Case. What happened?”

Casey couldn’t speak. She just clung to Alex, her fingers digging into her shirt as if letting go would make everything worse. Her body shook with sobs, her face buried against Alex’s neck.

Alex guided her inside, shutting the door softly behind them and leading Casey upstairs to her bed. They sat down, and Alex kept her arms around Casey, rubbing slow circles on her back. “You’re safe here. It’s okay.”

Alex felt helpless, she held tightly to Casey, waiting as sob after sob came out of her. She had never seen her so distressed and not knowing what had caused it had her so worried she felt like she was going mad. Casey was barely breathing between her cries, the desperation in them making Alex’s eye glaze over.

It took what felt like forever, but eventually, Casey’s sobs subsided enough for her to speak. Her words came out in ragged gasps, choked and broken, as she tried to explain what had happened. “My dad…he knows…they both do. He—he called me a pervert. He said—he said I was disgusting. That I’m.. that I’m—”

Alex’s felt her breath knocked out of her at the words, her grip tightening protectively around Casey. She pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing the hair out of her face, her blue eyes full of worry and love. “Casey… they’re wrong,” she whispered, her voice filled with so much conviction that Casey almost believed it. “They’re wrong. You’re not. You’re perfect, just as you are.”

Casey just shook her head, a hollow look in her eyes. She hugged her arms tightly around herself, a faint wince escaping her lips as her hand brushed against a tender spot on her arm.

Alex’s brows furrowed, and her gaze dropped to Casey’s arm. She reached out, gently lifting Casey’s sleeve to reveal a darkening bruise wrapping around her arm, the clear mark of a handprint. Her breath caught, her eyes wide with shock. “Casey… who did this to you?”

Casey swallowed hard, her gaze shifting away. “My dad,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Alex’s hands were gentle, but her voice was filled with barely controlled anger. “Is… is there more?”

Without a word, Casey lifted her shirt slightly, showing Alex the darkening bruise that was starting to form on her ribs. Alex’s face went pale, her jaw tightening as she took it in, her hands shaking as she looked at Casey, barely holding back her tears. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at the bruises, her mind racing. Finally, she took a shaky breath and gently lowered Casey’s shirt.

“Stay right here,” she whispered, her voice tight. She left the room briefly, returning with a small ice pack. She knelt beside Casey, her fingers gentle as she traced them on Caseys side, her touch so careful it made Casey’s chest ache. “This will help a little,” Alex murmured, pressing the ice pack to Casey’s ribs, her hand lingering to hold it in place.

Casey winced at the cold but Alex kept the pack still, she then pulled out a small camera her expression sad, a camera Alex had that Casey knew was filled with their happy moments. “Case, I’m going to take pictures of these, okay?” Her voice was steady, but her eyes were filled with a fury Casey had never seen. “Just in case. In case we ever… in case you need to show someone.”

Casey nodded numbly, letting Alex take the photos. She hated the idea, hated that this moment was now something to remember. Hated that it was now going to be tainted. But as she watched Alex, the determination in her girlfriend’s eyes made her feel safer. She knew Alex would protect her. She trusted her.

With the bruises documented, Alex sat back down beside Casey, her hand resting on her knee. “What happened after that?” she asked softly, her voice gentle but urgent.

Casey shook her head another sniffling “My dad… he… he said they’re sending me to a camp. Tomorrow. He’s taking me tomorrow morning, Lexie—”

Alex’s arms brought her back in, pulling her as close as she could. She felt nauseous at the thought. She had heard, had been threatened by her parents at some point, but the thought of Caseys parents actually following through and sending their daughter to one of those places made Alex feel like she was going to be sick. “No, they can’t… they can’t do that. Casey, we won’t let them. We won’t let them take you.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Casey cried, her voice breaking. “I can’t go back home. I can’t. But if I stay, they’ll find me—”

“We’re not staying,” Alex said firmly, her voice strong despite the fear in her eyes. The decision quickly made. “We’re leaving. Tonight. You and me.”

Casey pulled back, her eyes wide with fear. “No, you can’t… you can’t just leave because of me. I don’t want you to throw everything away.”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Alex said, her voice soft. She cupped Casey’s face gently, wiping away her tears with her thumbs. “I don’t care about any of it if I don’t have you. I’m not letting them take you away.”

“But… your parents—”

“They don’t care about me,” Alex said quickly, pain glazing over that was gone as fast as it came. “They stopped caring years ago. But there’s someone who does. My uncle, Bill. He’s like us, Casey. He understands what we’re feeling. He lives upstate, in New York. He’ll take us in. We can be safe there.”

Casey’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process any of it. Everything was too much. They had been happy the day before, everything had been perfect and now it was all falling apart.

She knew Alex meant it. They were going to run away—leave everything behind, leave the people that hurt them, the awful town they had never felt welcome in. They didn’t have a choice. If they stayed, Casey’s parents would destroy them.

Alex was right. They couldn’t, they had to go.

“Okay,” Casey whispered, her voice shaky. “Okay, let’s go.”

Alex gave her a kiss, a soft kiss that sent a wave of warmth through Casey. They rested their foreheads together as the last of Casey’s tears fell. “Okay” Alex whispered giving her another peck and pulling away.

Alex packed in silence, the weight of what they were doing sinking in with every item she shoved into her bag. Casey had taken only what she needed—the things she couldn’t live without—and left everything else behind. It didn’t matter anymore. She sat there, the ice offering her some relief as she wondered how she had managed to find herself so lucky to have someone like Alex by her side.

When Alex was done she grabbed Casey’s hand giving it a soft squeeze. “You ready?”

Casey squeezed her back with a small nod “Yeah. Im ready”

They went down the stairs, Alex turning all the lights off and grabbing her keys as they walked outside. She locked the house, giving it one last look as they headed out into the night.

The bus station was quiet at this hour, the sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn. Alex bought two tickets, one-way, to upstate New York. Casey stood beside her, still feeling the last waves of shock pass through her, trying to wrap her mind around what they were doing.

They were really leaving. Running away together. It would’ve been romantic had the situation not been so dire.

As they boarded the bus, Alex took Casey’s hand, not leting her go as they made their way to the back, finding seats by the window. The bus was nearly empty, just a few other passengers scattered throughout. It was perfect—no one would notice them. No one would care.

Casey leaned her head on Alex’s shoulder, her body exhausted from the everything that had happened. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving her feeling drained, her emotions overwhelming. But there was one thing she knew for certain—Alex was with her. Alex was always with her.

“I’m sorry,” Casey whispered, her voice chocked up and soft.

“For what?” Alex asked, her fingers gently brushing through Casey’s hair.

“For making you leave. For… everything.”

Alex leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Casey’s forehead. “You didn’t make me do anything. I chose this because I love you, Casey. I don’t care where we are, as long as we’re together.”

Casey felt tears prick at her eyes again, but this time they weren’t tears of fear. She shifted, pressing a soft kiss to Alex’s shoulder, her heart swelling with gratitude and love. She didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve Alex’s kindness, her love. But Alex was here, holding her, refusing to let her go.

They were running, yes. But they were running together.

As the bus rumbled to life, the city disappearing behind them, Casey let her eyes drift shut, exhaustion pulling her under. She felt safe here, next to Alex, wrapped in her warmth. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t afraid, she didn’t feel guilty anymore.

#law and order svu #alex cabot #casey novak #casey novak x alex cabot #calex #probably could’ve done better at proofreading but it is what it is

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keopix · 1 year ago

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princesspae · 2 years ago

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lover | calum hood.

calum hood x reader.

summary: calum takes his girl to the eras tour.

calum was always private when it came to his relationships. although he loved and appreciated each and every single one of his adoring fans, he never liked to be bombarded with taking pictures while out with his love. he never wanted to put her in a position to receive heavy amounts of hate just for being with him. when going out, he liked being low-key just for her protection. but tonight, he had high driven anxiety. tonight, he would be taking his beloved girlfriend to the eras tour.

calum knew how much his girlfriend loved taylor swift and her music. he knew it was a dream of hers to see taylor live. so, being the great boyfriend he is, he surprised her with tickets for her birthday and now the day had finally come. calum knew without a doubt that he and his love would be spotted by fans and that made him nervous. he didn’t want anyone to be mean to his girl or give her dirty looks as some had in the past. he just wanted her to enjoy this long awaited night and all he could do was hope for the best.

when the two arrived at the venue, they were lead to an open tent by security. the tent was mainly for celebrities and taylor’s family. calum was more than happy for his girl when she got to take a photo with taylor’s mother who also handed her, her first friendship bracelet of the night. a few minutes later, calum was enjoying drinks with his love and listening to the opening act, gracie abrams, another one of her favorite artists. he noticed how a few fans noticed them and tried coming over to the booth. “calum! I made these for you guys!” a girl yelled.

calum walked over to the fan, keeping a smile on his face. the girl handed him two bracelets. one with his initials and one with his girlfriend’s initials. “these are very nice, thank you so much!” calum smiled. he took a look back, checking on his girl who was simply singing along to the song that gracie was performing. “can i take a photo with the two of you, please?” the girl asked. that simple question made calum smile, it was the first time a fan wanted to take a photo with y/n as well. “of course” he smiled at the fan as he motioned for y/n to come over to him.

he didn’t miss the nervous expression on her face. “oh my god! you’re so gorgeous!!” the fan squealed towards y/n. a smile instantly crept upon her face as she thanked the fan. calum took the photo of them three and handed one of the bracelets to y/n. “that made my entire night, she was so kind” y/n spoke. calum smiled and kissed his love’s forehead. by the time taylor was on stage, y/n had both arms filled with friendship bracelets that fans had given to her. fans were so kind to her, begging for photos with both her and calum.

calum was more than relieved at the positive attention his girl was getting after being given nothing but hate for so long. it was definitely the best night he’s had in a long time. he sang along to songs with his girl, held her as she cried to different songs, danced with her, and carried her back to the car when she was so exhausted. as the two were back home in bed, calum scrolled through his twitter timeline and saw that fans had filmed them holding each other and slow dancing as taylor performed lover.

he smiled at the videos, watching his love look at him with so much admiration and love. slow dancing with him so carefree in a room full of so many people. he looked over at her exhausted figure, holding his hand as she was falling asleep. “i love you, cal” she mumbled before fully falling asleep. oh yeah, he was definitely marrying her.

#calum hood #calum hood x reader #calum hood fluff #calum hood x fem!reader #calum hood fic #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood x y/n #5sos #5sos x reader #5 seconds of summer #5sos x fem!reader #5sos imagine #5sos fic #5sos blurb

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gcphotobooth · 2 years ago

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#props for wedding photo booth los angeles #slow motion booth las vegas #slow motion booth los angeles #props for wedding photo booth #slow motion booth

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84reedsy · 1 year ago

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The Mentorship, Part 7

The Mentorship

Characters: Curt Hennig/FemOC , Scott Hall/FemOC

Part 7 of ? (Parts not chapters, parts length varies)

Word Count: 6418

-----Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6----

Warnings/Considerations: Smut, Age Gap, Power Dynamics, Dirty Talk, swearing

The bouncer only looked at her long enough to know he would be getting a kickback, taking a small stack of bills from Curt, subtly.

“You can pay me back,” Curt mumbled in her ear as they walked into a dimly lit hallway. She was hyper aware of everything, feeling on edge in an unfamiliar environment. It didn't help that Scott was right behind her. She knew everyone else was either already there or would be on their way. She hoped she wouldn't still be a target of ridicule for Kevin.

She knew it might have looked odd, but she stuck closely to Curt. He ordered himself a double shot of Jack Daniels and a single for her as her inaugural drink.

It set her throat afire and stalled her breath as she swallowed it in one gulp with immediate regret.

“Oh my god, that tasted like ass and fire and every bad decision I've ever made,” she blurted out. Those in her close vicinity laughed and clapped, “Don't ever do that again,”

Curt downed his double easily and motioned for another. Scott also had a double of something similarly amber.

She looked at the bartender pathetically. He was cute, hopefully she could flirt her way into a better drink.

“Help,” she leaned on the bar, pleading.

“Don't worry honey, I got you. This one's on me.” His dimples deepened when he smiled as he pulled out a short glass, filled it with ice cubes. She watched as he picked up a bottle labeled Knob Creek and a bottle of some sort of juice. He poured them over The ice in equal amounts and stuck in a tiny straw, “If you don't like this, I'll make you something else,”

She was reticent, but stirred the drink before taking a gentle sip.

“Oh my god,” she took a bigger sip, “This is amazing,” another long drink until it was nothing but ice.

“Damn,” Scott ordered himself another, “get her another one, on my tab. Make this one a triple,”

She met his eyes, trying to determine his intentions. He still didn't seem as friendly as they had been, but he wasn't giving her the cold shoulder.

“Thank you,” she took the drink and sipped it through the straw still maintaining his gaze. She coughed slightly at the stronger notes of whiskey, but did not set it down, heeding Scott's warning.

Luckily, she wasn't much of the focus, pinned in the back of a circular booth by bodies on either side of her. She was entertained by road and personal stories, learning more about her coworkers tonight than she had in the previous months. She saw their kids’ photos, even. She was so entertained, that she had forgotten that Scott was on one side of her, their legs occasionally touching.

She also hadn't needed to worry about paying for a drink all night, but only accepted them if delivered by a server. She was stuck for the evening as long as Curt and Scott wanted to drink, which by their stature and tolerance, afforded them a lot more time.

Brinkley finished the most recent of what she learned were whiskey sours. She felt a slight haze of dizziness, but couldn't land on how many she'd had. She didn't think it was that many, but couldn’t seem to count past four.

“Probably oughta cut you off,” Scott said. Curt was up shooting darts with Bret, beating him as easily as he had everyone else. His Mr. Perfect gimmick didn't seem that far-fetched.

“Why?” She looked up at him squinting even though the bar was quite dim, “I've only had a couple,”

“Three alone are on my tab, Curt bought you one, one was on the house, and at least one of the guys bought you one,” he recounted, “No, two, Kev bought you that one,” he pointed at her glass of only ice.

“He did?” She looked shocked, “but he was mean to me,” she looked around for him, her head moving unusually slow.

“Was he?” Scott knew what she was referring to and tried to forget what he'd heard her say, “That's probably why it doesn't have alcohol in it.” He laughed at her shocked reaction.

“Yes, he was really mean. I can't really…remember how but I KNOW he was,” she tried slurping more from the glass, only managing to find melted ice, “And I'm really nice,” she defended. She looked around again and noticed they were the only two left in the booth. Everyone had left for pool, darts, local talent, or were at the bar.

“Is that so?” Scott sipped beer from a bottle.

“Yes, I am,” she found herself remembering why he might believe something opposite, “I didn't mean what you heard, by the way,” she was only slightly dizzy. She wondered how many of her drinks had been virgins.

“Doesn't make any difference to me,” he tried to shrug off the subject.

“I didn't mean what I said how you thought I said it, though. It makes a difference to me.” her brain struggled to connect the right words with what she wanted to say. She instinctively placed a hand on his forearm as if trying to impart her sincerity.

“How did you mean it then? What else is there to regret,” he sounded angry, but he didn't pull away.

“The ring. How I was in the ring.” She said quickly, “Russo just wanted me to kiss Dally tonight because I did the stripping thing with you last night.” Her own clarity came back to her, “To be really honest, I don't regret doing the strip tease at all, but I just didn't like how the suits took it,”

Scott was quiet for a moment processing her words and deciding if she was indeed, being sincere. She was looking at him, her eyes didn't shift or falter.

“I'd never regret kissing you,” she said now, plainly.

“Alright, I believe you,” he knew she'd harp on about it if he didn't give her something, “but, you have to make it up to me,” he countered. He noticed a sultry flash in her eyes and now had to wonder how far she'd actually go to make it up to him.

“What- what do you want?” She asked, scooting slightly closer to him, “What do you want me to do?”

“You're the one apologizing,” he took a long swig of beer, not taking his eyes off of her, “What are you gonna do for me?” He was careful in how he worded the vollied question.

With how long she was quiet, Scott could tell a number of things were running through her mind.

“Well…” she swallowed the lump in her throat, “You could do anything you wanted. To me,” she wished she had another drink, hard or soft. Her mouth felt as dry as a desert.

Scott’s eyes widened a little, but he managed not to spit out his beer at the surprise of such an open ended invitation.

“Anything I want, huh?” He tried to think of something that would make him feel better AND put her in her place, but her green doe eyes looking at him made any fiendish scheming difficult.

“Well…to start, you're getting a real drink,” he motioned for the server and ordered two double top shelf Scotches, neat.

Brinkley remembered the whiskey from earlier and was timid to say the least about something that Scott considered strong.

“Drink up,” he took a big sip of his own, but did not down it.

She looked nervously at the placid amber liquid.

“Half?” She asked hopefully.

“If you meant ‘anything’, then all of it. And that ain't the end of it either,” he took the glass and pushed it closer to her.

“1, 2, 3” She counted in her head before grabbing it tossing it back like had before. If there was ever something to regret, it would have been this. She slapped the table, feeling her body want to reject all of what she just ingested.

She coughed through the fiery burn, her eyes watering.

“Oh my GOD,” she managed out in response, “You actually like that stuff?”

Scott snickered.

“Yeah, that's a real man's drink. Puts hair on your chest.” he sipped more of his.

“Well I'll leave that to you. You rock that look better than anyone,” she turned her glass upside down so there was no chance it would be refilled.

“I do, do I?” He questioned, noting her delayed embarrassment.

“I mean…yeah. But you know that already, don't you? Isn't that why you only wear the small trunks? To show off?” She tried to defend herself only to dig a deeper hole.

“Not really. Was the cheapest gear when I started out. But good to know it's appreciated,”

“What else?” She asked him, receiving a confused look, “What else do you want me to do?” She reiterated.

“Give Kev a lap dance,” he smirked with a wicked gleam in his eye. He saw the panic cross her face as she looked at Kevin for a moment, the center of attention at the bar.

“I…I meant…I meant like, for you,” she stumbled, her head was swimming more now, the scotch working quickly.

“You said anything,” he wanted her to earn that apology. He didn't want to hurt her, but his deviousness outplayed him.

“She probably needs to head on back to the car,” Curt stopped by the table between rounds, noticing her glassy eyes, “I got one more game,” he set the car keys on the table.

Scott was disappointed for his own game to be interrupted, but there were no time limits on her apology.

“I'll get her back to the car,” Scott downed the rest of his beer, “but I'm not babysitting,”

Sliding out of the booth, she felt like she was moving very fast. But as she stood, she realized she'd forgotten how to. She grabbed Scott's arm to keep from collapsing.

“Scott, something is wrong with my legs,” she panicked, “they don't work, oh god, I'm paralyzed.” She tried to move her feet and they did, but not cooperatively.

“Jesus, you're not paralyzed,” he moved her arm to his shoulder, “hang on to me,” he might have still been haunted by her words of regret, but he couldn't leave her unattended in this state. He flipped off the hecklers as he helped her stumble out into the dark night.

“Scott, my legs, something is wrong,” she repeated, forgetting she had already said so.

“I know, I know, you're paralyzed,” Scott braced her against him while opening the door to the backseat.

“I am?!” She gasped, poking her thighs.

“Good god,” Scott grumbled, trying to position her in the seat. She held onto his shirt with tight fists and tripping over her own feet she fell into the floorboard. She nearly took Scott with her. He lifted her at least to the seat, his body positioned over her as she still held onto him.

Though drunk, she still was startled by the position she found herself in. It sobered her slightly as even in the dim parking lot, she could still make out his strikingly handsome features.

“I thought you were still mad at me,” she said softly. He didn't answer, but she could see his jaw clench.

“I should be. I didn't get my full apology,” he said cooly.

“I told you, “ She said earnestly, “I didn't regret anything with you! I wanted that, I really did,” she fervently continued, looking at his lips,” and I want it again,” she lowered her voice, hoping to see a receptive glint in his eye.

“I'm not sure you really do, you're drunk, girl,” his voice rumbled like thunder.

“Not that drunk,” her hands released his shirt, instead laying flat against his chest. One slid upwards, running her finger tips over his stubble. Her thumb brushed over his lips,”maybe just drunk enough to be honest. Don't you want to kiss me again?”

“I don't know. Who knows what you'll go around telling people this time,” he couldn't help his insulting tone.

“I never regretted kissing you. I've wanted to for a long, long time,” her eyes didn't betray her tone, looking up at him with an expectant want.

“Don't be mad at me in the morning,” he mumbled, leaning down. She lifted up to meet his lips, snaking her arms around his neck.

“I could never be mad at someone as hot as you,” she mumbled against his lips, letting him deepen it quickly. He punished her with the kiss. An insistent, demanding kiss, his tongue probing hers with dominating force. She gasped and whimpered as she tried to maintain, but did not pull away.

Scott felt her legs clamp around his hips and he couldn't help grinding between her legs a bit. He wasn't completely hard, thanks to the alcohol, but if she kept rubbing against him, that would change.

“I want you so bad,” she whispered as he dipped to her neck. She nearly writhed under him, gasping his name. The graze of his stubble burned her skin, but his lips and tongue sent a fiery tingle through her. She moved against him, feeling desperate.

“I've wanted to fuck you since the first time I laid eyes on you,” he admitted, looking down into her eyes. He shouldn't take it there. Making out was one thing. But fucking her half hanging out of a rental car in a seedy parking lot was not exactly what he'd pictured. And definitely not having to get her drunk to do it.

He had to catch her hands from pawing lower, much against his own wishes. He pinned her wrists on either side of her head, but kissed her again before she could protest. He still moved along with the motion of her body, swallowing up her whimpers with groans of pleasure of his own.

Brinkley felt her body tingling, the heat emanated from between her legs. She could feel his growing lump pressing into her and before she realized what was happening, she came, moaning into his lips. Her body stiffened as she did.

Scott paused, looking down at her listless gaze. Her mouth parted slightly, she looked beautiful when she came, like she was surprised her body could elicit such a response.

“Did you just,” he started, feeling her tremor a little beneath him. He couldn’t believe she had cum that easily for him. He fought the urge to slip his fingers in her pants to feel just how wet she got.

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly, feeling a sluggish embarrassment creeping in, “I…I'm sorry,” she stammered.

“Don't be,” he fought with himself over moving forward. If he let himself just go, it might be over quickly from just the heat of the moment. Looking down at her he couldn’t stop his hand from lowering to his belt.

Within a few moments, he felt her hands pushing on him, hard. He nearly toppled over as she scrambled out from underneath him and barely made it to the edge of the trunk before she threw up.

Brinkley coughed, sinking to her knees as she leaned her forehead against the tail light. She felt suddenly tired as she tried to recover. It wasn't any more pleasant on the way out as it was in.

Scott sat on the edge of the backseat, running a hand over his head. What was he thinking with this girl?

“Glad to see you're not babysitting,” Curt said in jest, noticing her slumped against the rear quarter panel.

“I should be charging you by the hour for this,” he stood and walked behind Brinkley, grabbing her under her arms and lifting her into the backseat. She was not long from passing out, groaning as she was moved.

Brinkley tried to sit up, but decided against it as gravity fought her. She was hit by a sudden sleepiness and gave in to it.

Curt peered around the door to see her passed out, he glanced at Scott who was already walking around to the front passenger door.

“These new kids just can't keep up,” He said. climbing in the driver’s seat. He probably shouldn’t have been driving, but he felt clear headed enough and the hotel was just around the corner.

“Yeah, gonna take a while to get that one up to speed,” Scott tried to ignore the ache in the crotch of his jeans. It would only get worse unless he took care of it himself. He couldn’t help but think any self satisfaction would be disappointing. He tried not to feel guilty keeping what had happened from Curt.

“Did you guys make up at least,” Curt teased, seeing Scott turn into his inward sulking mood that he often did when embarrassed.

“We’re straight,” He left it at that. But he couldn’t deny part of him was relieved that she didn’t in fact regret kissing him.

Curt carried her to their room; Scott assisted but quickly left. Curt was curious as to what happened in the backseat, but the only other witness was passed out and would likely have a blurry memory of the events tomorrow at best.

He resisted undressing her for bed. He didn’t need to make any poor decisions tonight either.

---------------------------------------------------------

Brinkley woke with a pressure in her head that she was sure was from a literal vice screwed onto her skull. The room was dark but somehow too bright. She groaned as she sat up, feeling like she had been beaten and left for dead.

“Curt?” She called out, but regretted a second later, holding her temple.

He came out of the bathroom in just a towel, combing through his damp hair.

“It’s about time you got up, lazy bones,” He chuckled at her pale, pitiful appearance, “Might want to start making your way to the toilet now.” He suggested.

“Why don’t you look like shit,” She found it incredibly unfair that she was the only one suffering.

“Well, I would recommend that as soon as possible you take those pills on the table,” He motioned to her bedside where a pile of pills sat, “It’s just tylenol. But a lot of it. It's gonna be the best option,” He knew from years of experience on the road what worked and what didn’t. There might have been something better in more of the narcotic line, but she had rejected those in the past. He couldn’t blame her.

“If anything goes in my mouth, I’m gonna throw up,” She rubbed her hand across her forehead.

“Anything?” Curt placed his hand on his towel as if he were going to remove it, laughing when he received only a middle finger in response.

She did make it to the bathroom and she did get the pills down as recommended, but was mortified when told next it was important to put food on top of it. She was not looking forward to that part. Slowly the night before was coming back to her.

“Did…did Scott bring me back?” She started to recall ‘walking’ out of the bar with him. She recalled she was still in the clothes from last night when she first woke. That brought some relief (with its own disappointment).

“He took you to the car, bent you over the hood and went at it. Rest of the guys ran a train on you.” Curt spun a tale.

Brinkley looked at him, unamused as they left the room.

“What, no sense of humor when you're hungover?” He nudged her and she groaned.

“No. Nothing good exists right now,” she whined as they walked into the diner next door. The smells that greeted her were not exactly welcome.

“Well…you made out with him in the back of the car,” Curt said, acknowledging the group in the back at a large table.

“What-” she hissed, seeing Scott drinking coffee at the table. She remembered him talking to her. She had a feeling in her gut that it was friendly. And with the way he was looking at her now, she doubted Curt was pulling her leg.

“Nah, just fucking with you,” Curt's teasing just left her more unsure.

They took two seats at the busy table. Brinkley drank the black coffee at Steve's suggestion, slowly. It seemed to help, but she paced herself.

The egg whites and toast Curt had ordered for her stared her down as if they were a threat.

“I'd eat pretty quick if you took the ‘road remedy’,” Kevin nodded towards her plate. She tried not to complain too much and picked up her fork. Scott didn't say anything, but he never took his eyes off of her.

She managed enough to placate Curt, leaning on her hand as she finished.

“Can't I just go back to bed?” She managed barely above a wine, “we have today off,” she followed up. It was met with stilted laughter.

“We don't have a show…but there's still work. We are doing a radio show this afternoon. Gym time, usually go to a couple sites and let fans get photo ops, cop a few feels,” Curt slid an itinerary over to her.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” she laid her head on the table, “Just for a little bit? It says 4pm…we can do the gym right before. I can get at least a couple hours,” she tried to convince Curt.

He looked at her as if mulling it over.

“I don't know, you might need some extra gym time, the road is making you soft.” Curt went to pinch her ribs, but she slapped his hand away.

“No I'm not!” She hotly contested his remark, “Kevin, am I getting soft?” She stood and turned to either side. He sipped coffee but looked her over.

“Nah, pretty hard little body,” he glanced at Scott to see if it would elicit a response. Scott looked at him immediately.

“See? And he doesn't even like me,” she countered smugly.

“Well I'm headed out, so it's now.” Curt left money for his check on the table.

“I'm not going until later,” Scott spoke up, “She can ride with us,”

Brinkley looked up at Scott to Kevin and back to Scott. What a double edged sword that option was. She paused to think before speaking.

“I’m fine with that,” She looked back at Curt, “I’ll just meet you there,”

Curt looked at her for a moment before shrugging, “Doesn’t matter to me,” though he found himself a little irritated that she wouldn’t be in tow. He’d wanted to get some one on one workout time with her.

“Thank. God.” She said standing, “I’m going back to bed. Please come get me before you leave. If I’m not down here, I’m in 417,”

Curt stood as well, handing his keycard to Scott, “She’ll sleep through an earthquake.”

Brinkley looked down at the keycard and then to Scott. At that moment, more of the previous night returned to her. Including him grinding on top of her.

----------------------

She lay in bed, but now of course, sleep eluded her. She was still exhausted, but she couldn’t stop replaying the reel of the night before, over and over. It had actually happened. The attraction went both ways. She felt some relief that she’d been able to explain to him that he’d misheard her. She wondered if she should revisit the subject now that her mind was a little more clear.

She tried to close her eyes, but she couldn’t shut off her mind. She hoped a shower would help. She let the steaming water flow over her, taking advantage of her extended free time. She couldn’t keep from feeling flustered that she had cum with him like that. She wondered what had gone through his mind. Probably not a lot since immediately after she’d gotten sick. She was sure that was a mood killer.

She grabbed a towel and dried herself, wrapping it around her chest as she walked back into the room.

She was startled by a figure sitting on the edge of one bed, cursing out loud in surprise.

“Dammit! What are you doing,” her hand flew to her chest as a spike of adrenaline coursed through her.

Scott stood looking at her in only a short, thin hotel towel.

“I, uh…I thought you might have wanted me to come by,” He looked her up and down without shame for doing so. She was still somewhat wet from the shower, her dark, damp curls clinging to each shoulder, “You had the room to yourself, took a shot,” He exuded confidence now.

Brinkley had half a mind to just drop her towel to see what he’d do next. She held it on her though, the knot weak.

“What exactly are you getting at?” she walked around him, not taking her eyes off of him as she headed to her bag.

“Well, now that you’re sober, I wouldn’t feel bad about finding out what the rest of you tastes like.” He took a couple steps toward her.

She felt as if the breath had been knocked from her chest and she braced herself against the table her bag laid on. She didn’t retreat as he took a couple more steps toward her.

“Unless you want me to leave,” He followed up, making no move to do so.

She shook her head slowly biting her lip, but struggling to speak.

Scott felt an intense arousal spread through him.

“And as long as you don’t think you’ll regret it,” He couldn’t help saying so, his pride still recovering from the damage.

“I told you I didn’t regret anything with you. Maybe, just that we were interrupted.” She found her voice as her hand loosened on the towel.

“Would you have fucked me in the pool,” He said with a direct crassness that made Brinkley’s sex throb.

She looked down, noticing a sizable lump below his belt. She nodded slowly as his hand lifted to the top edge of her towel.

He yanked his hand away as several clicks came from the door and it opened. Scott was only able to take a half step back before Curt walked in.

Curt could tell he had walked in on more than just a conversation. He looked between both of them, quickly noticing how little was covering his protege.

“Gym was closed, didn't open until 2, grabbed another key from the front desk,” He held up the card, “What, uh, what exactly is going on in here?”

“Just talking about the match tomorrow,” Scott lied through his teeth, “Brink here had a good idea for interference. Just working it out,”

She looked between both men and nodded in agreement with Scott’s lie. She knew Curt knew better though. They were not getting anything past him.

“I see. And? What’d you come up with?” He walked in the room now, nonchalant.

“She needs to use her training. She said she could work in a drop toe hold and take a fallaway slam from me,” He said, obviously not the first time he’d thought about it.

“I think she’s capable of that,” Curt crossed his arms looking at her.

She nodded after a moment, wetting her dry mouth the best she could.

“Yeah…I could. I’d want to practice first.” She looked at Scott.

“Sure, there’s a couple of rings around town. Let me make some calls, we can probably use their gym, too.” Scott’s hands were on his hips, again left in frustration. He reluctantly walked away from her.

“Yeah, just let us know, man,” Curt said, watching Scott leave. Once they were alone again, he looked back at Brinkley with a knowing but questioning look, “So…what did I walk in on. And I don’t believe his bullshit story-, even though it's a good idea,”

“I was in the shower. When I got out, he was just in here,” She shrugged, holding her towel up still.

Curt looked her up and down as well. It would be a shame not to take advantage of the situation before him. Just because Scott missed out didn’t mean he had to. He knew if he just waited though, she would likely initiate.

“Did something happen last night that I don't know about?” He knew immediately from her sheepish expression that something happened in the car.

“Just…a kiss,” She shifted awkwardly, but looking at Curt in a tank top as his workout shorts was shifting her arousal to a new target. Her eyes must’ve said as much, as Curt smirked.

“That’s it?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“Then I got sick,” She shrugged.

“Well from the looks of it he was about to pounce on you,” He motioned toward the door, “Like he was about to eat you alive,”

“No…” She fibbed, “Just business,” She turned to her bag and picked out an outfit to wear to the gym. She tried to ignore the toy tucked in the corner. She could definitely use some alone time to sit on that for a while.

As she turned back around, Curt stood directly in front of her. His sudden proximity startled her a bit, but her mood instantly changed as she was flooded with his scent.

“Just business huh?” He placed his hands on his hips, looking down at the top of the towel, “So you mean to tell me, if I reach under that towel, that pussy isn’t going to be wet?”

“Well,” She gulped again, feeling odd about wanting another man just moments after nearly bedding another, “it might be now…,” “Can’t be from me,” He scoffed.

“I think you underestimate how you affect me,” She said, her lax grip allowing the towel to fall. She tried not to blush as his eyes looked her up and down.

“Are you asking to use your pass?” He questioned, resisting the impulse to reach out and touch her, “Or are you just really hard up for Scott and trying to use me in place of him,”

“I don’t need to pretend it's anyone else with you,” She reached out and pulled him gently by the shirt towards her, “But if you want to use me, I don’t mind,” Her statement reminded him that he couldn’t be too upset without skirting hypocrisy being a married man.

“I want you to wait, one more day,” He asked, chuckling at the pouty disappointment on her face. He let down his restraint and let his hands slide along her body, cupping a breast and twisting a nipple gently between his fingers, “At least for my dick, can you do that for me?” He continued to roam her body, looking down at her needy face.

“Yes, Daddy,” She sulked, “I can wait,”

“That’s my good girl,” He leaned down to kiss her, rough against her lips with his. He knelt in front of her, letting his lips slide down her skin. He parted her legs, propping one of them over his shoulder before letting his broad tongue lick up her pussy. Her sweetness was welcome and she was indeed plentifully wet. He flicked past her clit repeatedly, making her whimper with each pass.

She threaded her fingers into his hair, her hips rolling along with the pace of his tongue. Looking down at his delicious lips exploring her sex evoked a surge of desire. She already felt the tingle of her orgasm building and she willed it forward. Her legs nearly buckled when he sunk two fingers in her primed entrance, working in time with his experienced mouth.

“Fuck….Daddy…I’m gonna cum,” She groaned, her eyes locked on his actions. His response was to thrash his tongue over her, suckling on her sensitive clit and punishing her pussy with the strokes of his fingers.

Brinkley covered her mouth with her own hand to keep from crying out in pleasure as she came, his oral assault continued. He wasn’t satisfied with one. Or with two. And the third he forced with such a demand that he did have to prop her up as her legs gave way.

Her legs quivered even as Curt helped her lie down. Quickly, she found the sleep that had earlier eluded her. She slept well, waking up again feeling much more rested as Curt stirred her.

“Scott found a ring,” He said softly, “Gotta go now though,”

She nodded, yawning, grabbing the outfit she’d set out earlier. Meeting in the lobby, Scott and Kevin waited for them. Once at the car, she realized they would have an extra passenger. Kevin quickly took the front seat. Being the tallest, he felt entitled to it. As she got into the backseat, Scott slid in next to her.

“Have a good nap, Brink?” He asked, taking a moment to look her up and down again.

“Um, yeah…I feel a lot better now,” She timidly responded, remembering how close Scott had been to ripping her towel off.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

She was not uncomfortable in the ring. She asked Curt to warm up with her, out of habit she was just more comfortable with him. She knew that would need to change if she ever wanted to have legitimate matches. But for today, she got her jitters out and tried to get into work mode as Scott stepped through the ropes, Kevin stepping over the top rope.

“Why do you do that?” She asked him, pulling up her elbow sleeves, “How does that not smash the goods? Everybody will still know you're tall if you step through like a normal person.”

Scott failed in his attempt to restrain a laugh, turning away from Kevin.

“It doesn't smash anything. I barely touch it,” he defended, looking back at the rope.

Brinkley looked at him skeptically, “I have eyes,” she reminded him, “ I can see,”

“Can we add a powerbomb to her schedule?” Kevin asked, not a fan of being called out.

“She gets what she gets,” Curt shrugged, “Only way she'll learn to watch that mouth,” he warmed up his joints by circling his arms and pulling on the ropes. Brinkley mimicked him as everyone else stood outside on the edge of the apron.

“Funny that you think I'd ever stop being mouthy,” she quipped right before they locked up. She let him take the lead, taking a few bumps and running some rope drills. Once she was warmed up, Curt tagged Scott in. She reminded herself that this was work. Anything inside the ring was work and everything on the outside stayed there.

Her nerves didn’t get to her as she practiced sliding under the bottom rope and safely tripping up Scott. She scrambled away, being caught by her ankle and Scott would drag her back to the middle. She placed a foot in his gut and he sold it, but grabbed her again as she tried to get away. He threw her into the ropes and caught her in a front body carry.

“Tuck your arms and try to fall on your side and roll to the back,” he coached her. “Kev will pull you out after that. Curt goes to check on you and I roll him up for a 2 count.”

She tried to stay relaxed as he held on to her, one arm under her shoulder, the other between her thighs. She did her own part of helping hold herself up on him. She felt a tingle in her stomach as he fell backwards and hoisted her over his head. The bump didn't hurt, but it was hard. The ring mat made an awful smack.

The rest of the spot worked well, but she asked to practice it a few more times. Scott was more than willing, each pass was more and more natural. She still got that flutter in the stomach when she was thrown over his head, but there was something so thrilling about being manhandled.

Once she was satisfied, she and Kev headed towards the gym as Scott and Curt volunteered to wipe down the ring.

“You did a good job with that one,” Scott complimented as he started with the turnbuckles, “Considering she had very little ring experience at all. You'd never know it looking at her now.”

“Yeah, training her wasn't really too hard. She would keep at something until it was perfect. She was pickier than I was. She probably ran a marathon trying to get her rope runs down. Kept getting tangled up in her own feet,” Curt laughed, remembering what would have made a fantastic blooper reel,”But she's got a lot of potential if they'll use her right,”

“Yeah…that's a big ‘if’,” Scott knew women didn't get many chances to not just be eye candy these days. Some were starting to blaze a trail, but it wouldn't be without its pushbacks, “She'll be okay if she just speaks up for herself,”

“Don't think that's going to be a problem for her,” Curt looked up a she told Kevin to ‘hold his fucking horses’ in the background, “Hey, I've been meaning to talk to you about,” Curt looked back over his shoulder, “our plan,”

“Kinda wondered if that was off the table,” Scott said, lowering his voice, “hadn't said anything about it for a while,”

“Nah, still on if you're still interested,” Curt said. He wasn't stupid, he knew Scott was more than interested. He knew there was no work talk going on in that room earlier.

“Yeah, man, sounds like a good time to me,” Scott said cooly, acting as if he could take or leave the opportunity. His inner voice betrayed that coolness. It continued to bring up every encounter, every touch, every longing glance from across the room.

“Was thinking about tomorrow night. After the show we only have to drive a couple hours. Would have plenty of time, especially if we snuck out of the show early.” Curt had been working the plan out on his own, “gonna try and figure out where everyone else plans to go, then head somewhere different.”

“Sounds like a plan, I think we go on second to last though. Steve and Bill have the main event.” Scott tried to remember tomorrow's card.

“That'll give us time to leave. I think it still works,” Curt looked back at her as she laughed at something the gym owner said.

“I'm there,” Scott confirmed. If anything at least that would be a guarantee. He could hangout tonight with the boys and drown all his thoughts until they ceased. At least for one night.

#wrestling fan fic #wrestling fic #wrestling fanfiction #curt hennig #wcw #wwe #wrestling #fanfiction #pro wrestling #1999 #Scott hall #kevin nash #The Mentorship #wrestling smut #a bunch of other wrestlers from this time period

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