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spine-buster · 1 year

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portofino ft. kenny omega

gif credit @/stukky

Length: 23k Summary: You and Tyson have history. Lots of it. When you met, you could have never envisioned he would be in your life the way he still is. But things get complicated, and tricky, and complex. Things hurt – lots of things hurt. And things can only get worse before they can get better, right? A/N: my first wrestling fic since 2017. The formatting and spacing on this is super fucked up and not idea and I apologize for that, but Tumblr's new and "improved" text editor is literally the fucking worst and glitches SO much that the most I could do was this. This will also be posted on my AO3 (@/spinebuster) if you prefer there!

10th May 2023

it only hurts this much right now was what i was thinking the whole time

You were crying again.

At this point, you were basically just leaking.

You didn’t want Tyson to find out, so you tried with all your might to stop yourself, rubbing away your tears with the back of your hand and trying to steady your breathing. You breathed in and out, in and out, in and out. You hoped no-one else around noticed. But it was hard when there were so many people, hard when you were friends with practically all of them, hard when any little hint of water or redness of your eye could cause someone like Austin or Hikaru or Dustin to speak up and ask you what was wrong. You almost wanted to hide in a closet until you calmed down, but that was childish.

You went into one of the washrooms backstage anyway, not bothering to go into a stall but checking them all quickly anyway to ensure nobody else was with you. When you knew you were clear, you stood in front of the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were red, your eyes were watery. You sighed.

“Get it together, Hazel,” you mumbled to yourself. You so desperately needed to get it the fuck together. “Stop crying. You’re such a baby.”

The pep talk didn’t help much.

***

“Have you seen Hazel anywhere?” Tyson asked Nick as he unraveled the tape around his wrists.

“Nah,” he answered, shaking his head. “Probably went back to the hotel a bit early.”

“Why would she do that?” Tyson asked. Matt, from behind his brother, gave one of his best friends a look. “Oh. Right,” Tyson realized.

“Don’t think she wants to hang out here anymore than she needs to,” Nick commented.

“Can you blame her?” Matt asked his brother.

“Not in the slightest.”

***

You had the TV on for background noise as you went about your routines and wandered aimlessly around the hotel room. It was pitch black outside in Detroit; you couldn’t even see anything out the window besides the lights from the hotel parking lot. What a view. You tried to distract yourself with the TV, sitting down on the suite’s couch, but you couldn’t even do that. Your legs pushed you back up to wander more. You’d check your phone and texted your mom back. You texted Hikaru that maybe brunch would be a better idea tomorrow instead of meeting her in the lobby for the continental breakfast, knowing what tomorrow morning would probably look like.

At some point, you heard some noise and voices from outside your room. Not long after, the sounds of a key card swiping, and finally the turn of the doorknob. You were greeted with Tyson – or, more so, Tyson was greeted with you, since you were the one in his room. It wasn’t a surprise that you were there, but it was still a welcome sight. It was better than being alone.

“Hey,” you greeted him. It had been about an hour since you stopped crying, so you hoped your eyes and face had stopped showing it.

“Hazel, hey,” he said, smiling at you, despite what he had just been through. He wheeled his bag in behind him before the door shut on its own. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” he shrugged. He’d been saying that a lot lately. You hated when he did. “You left early.”

You nodded quickly, apologetically. “I didn’t want to stick around. Knowing that he’s lurking around, you know…I just didn’t want to have to deal with it.”

“I didn’t even see him, for what it’s worth. If you stayed in our locker room you would��ve been good.”

The two of you didn’t even have to say his name for you to understand. In some ways, you were glad he acted as a buffer, an excuse you could pull, that way you could hide why you really left early. “I watched most of the match, I swear. Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“When was that?”

“When you guys broke the cage,” you were finally honest, just slightly.

“So you didn’t see Don stab me with a screwdriver.”

You winced. “No. But you at least told me about that. You didn’t tell me the cage was going to break.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice solemn. “You know how these matches get put together. Things get added. Things get taken out.”

Did you ever. But you still couldn’t get used to how…well, violent Tyson’s matches were getting. Unnecessary violence. Unnecessary risk. There was no reason for Tyson to bleed, and now you felt he was bleeding every week. You didn’t know how much longer you’d last. “How’s your knee?” you asked, since you saw it get caught up in the cage when it broke, causing you to cry in the first place. He’d just taken time off for double knee surgery; you were scared he was taking it too far.

“Knees are fine. As good as they can be,” he assured you. “Can you…can you help me with something else, though?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“There’s, umm, there’s some scratches on my back. I need someone to take off the big bandage, apply this cream the doctor gave me, and tape on a new bandage.”

“Okay,” you nodded slightly. You’d done a version of this countless times before but it never got easier. Just like watching him do these kinds of matches never got easier. “Do you want to sit on the bed?”

He changed out of his gym shorts and into his pyjama shorts first so he could sleep right afterwards. You watched as he sat on the bed, handing you the ointment. When you unravelled the bandage, your stomach was in knots about how big it was. “Ty…”

“It’s going to look worse than it feels,” he warned. “It doesn’t feel that bad, Hazel. I promise.” He took off his shirt then, slowly, grunting slightly. The bandage covered nearly half his back. You held your breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. “The tape that’s holding the bandage in place – it doesn’t hurt. You can just peel it off,” he instructed. “I have more for when you put the new one on.”

You started peeling away the tape, discarding it beside you as you. When it was fully peeled, the bandage still stayed in place, which only meant to you it was sticking onto his skin because of the blood. You held your breath again as you took the bandage off, but fully gasped loudly in horror, your breath taken away when you saw the state of his back. “Oh Ty…” you cried.

“Hazel—”

“Tyson, what did you do? What did you do?” you begged from him. You brought your hand up, tracing the scratches and cuts delicately with your fingertips. “Tyson…” he had to hear the pain in your voice.

“I’m sorry, Hazel. I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

And that’s when it began again: the tears. You grabbed the ointment and unscrewed the cap, taking in the full picture of his back. You cried silently, tears falling down your face as you would apply small bits of ointment to your fingers before rubbing it along all the scratches. You would do this for Tyson until the day you died, but you hated that it had to be like this. The two of you had always looked out for one another – Tyson more so, for obvious reasons, but that was a whole other story – but seeing his body mutilated like this twisted something in you that you couldn’t kick. It was one thing to see Kenny after a 60-minute match with Okada, body bruised and banged up but all in one piece; it was another thing to see barbed wire and nail scratches, cuts, and footprints on his face.

He winced in pain every so often and you’d keel, hating yourself for hurting him when you were supposed to be helping him. You tried not to let him hear you cry, but you were sure the couple of sniffles gave it away. When you finally asked for the tape for the bandage and your voice cracked, you were positive.

Tyson handed you the tape, but turned around slightly to see you. “You’re crying. Why are you crying?” he asked.

You shook your head to ignore him. You unravelled the tape and began ripping strips to use. “Turn around.”

“Hazel—”

“Sit still.”

Tyson stayed silent. You positioned the bandage to cover all the scratches before taping it into place. When you were done, you tossed the tape to the side, the rest of his back looking fairly normal besides the scars you already knew about. Unable to control yourself, you leaned forward and pressed your cheek to his skin on his back between his shoulder blades, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Tyson felt what you were doing, the skin-to-skin contact an instantaneous feeling, and breathed in and out along with you. You savoured the feeling of the Tyson you knew on your skin. Not mutilated Tyson. Not banged up Tyson. Just the Tyson you knew for twelve years, the Tyson who looked out for you, the Tyson who was your mentor.

“I’m sorry, Hazel,” he whispered, his words sincere. He hated seeing, feeling you so upset.

“Can I stick around tonight?” you asked.

“You never have to ask. You just can.”

When you crawled to step off the bed, Tyson grabbed your arm to prevent you from going anywhere momentarily. You wanted to get the feeling of tears off your face, but he had other plans. You were right at his side, so so close. “I really am sorry,” he told you. “I hate seeing you like this.”

Tears were coming again. You didn’t try to stop them this time. You still shook your head and tried to wipe them away. “It’s just getting harder and harder for me to watch you put your body through these hardcore matches,” you admitted. “Sometimes I just wish you’d stick to what you’re good at. And that’s not to say you’re not good at the hardcore stuff, because you are – you’re good at everything. I just wish I didn’t have to see your body be mutilated for the sake of spectacle. I hate—I hate seeing what you have to do. You, more than anyone, know how to put on a spectacle without having to do that shit. I hate seeing you destroy your body, Ty. I just hate it. I’m sorry.”

He nodded his head in understanding. “I know it’s hard. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” was all he could say.

Tyson waited for you to wash your face and put on one of his t-shirts before the both of you got into bed. You wondered if you should get close at all, possibly even touch him, and you were about to decide against him until he winced again, trying to get into a comfortable position. It was at that point that your body physically moved towards his before your mind knew what it was doing. It was like a fight-or-flight response. He found a comfortable position sleeping on his side, and you curled up right against his back like the big spoon, despite being two-thirds his size.

In the quietness of the room, with the low hum of the air conditioner the only noise, you placed a kiss on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he felt it.

***

The next morning, you woke up still snuggled into Tyson. You both had inevitably shifted throughout the night: Tyson was lying on his back, apparently able to do so without pain, while you were sleeping right up against him. When you opened your eyes, you saw that he was still sound asleep, one arm draped over his chest.

“Haze?” you heard him mumble in a groggy voice.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t fully asleep. “Hmm?”

“Thank you for last night,” he said.

You didn’t answer right away. “I’ll always be there to help you, Tyson. You know that.”

He moved so that the arm that had been squished against you was now around you, pulling you into his body even more than you already were. The usual smell of him filled your airways; it practically made you drunk. Drunk enough to fall back asleep, his body bringing you peace as much as it did pain.

***

11th May 2023

time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it i'd like to be my old self again, but i'm still trying to find it

When you were back in Orlando, you settled into the solace of your apartment, unpacking immediately and throwing your clothes in the washing machine. You were called a psychopath more than once by Stephen for being that type of person – especially after it became a meme on the internet – but you couldn’t help it. You had even packed Tyson’s shirt that you’d slept in last night, seeing it mixed in with your other clothes before you threw in a Tide Pod and closed the door.

After unpacking, you set your suitcase in your closet and resolved to have a bowl of lime tortilla chips as you sat on the couch and scrolled through Instagram and cuddled with your ragdoll cat, Zadie. You needed to disconnect from wrestling for a bit, from flashbacks of seeing Tyson’s scratched-up back whipping through your mind every other minute. But as you sat down on your couch, bowl or tortilla chips in hand, you couldn’t help but notice your most prized belongings: your wrestling accolades you had organized neatly on the wall and in the media unit that surrounded your TV. Your Match of the Year plaques from 2014 and 2015. Your Woman of the Year awards. A women’s belt. Framed photographs of you wrestling. Frame photographs of you with your friends. With your family. With Tyson.

Sometimes it felt like a lifetime ago and sometimes it felt like you had to retire yesterday. You had enjoyed an amazing but short career. You’d had a lot of ups, a lot of downs, a lot of heartbreaks, a lot of memorable moments. There was the time you’d gone 20-minutes with Toni Storm in a match that ended up getting over a million views on YouTube. You’d performed in infamous Reseda, in the PWG arena, to the most raucous crowd you’d ever performed in front of. You had travelled to America, Japan, the UK, Germany, Italy, France, Mexico, and Ireland to wrestle. You had hype. You had respect. People wrote about you. People paid to see you. People lined up for you at meet and greets. People wanted your autograph and your t-shirts at shows, handing you wads of cash for two medium and two kids’ t-shirts so the whole family could match. While you had made a name for yourself, you’d racked up the injuries too. There was the broken wrist early on, which wasn’t that bad – from a show in Toronto where you just landed awkwardly. You were able to finish the match, and thanks to the Canadian health care system you held so dear, it was in a cast just a few hours later. There was a broken ankle that actually forced you to stay back from a tour of Ireland that many of your friends went on.

At one point in 2014, you were booked to wrestle against a women’s wrestler, fairly new to the scene, named Bea Priestley. The both of you had gone over the match beforehand, but once in the ring, she did nothing you two spoke about. That was fine – you were a professional – but Bea was wrestling stiff, and you were getting angrier every passing moment in the ring, even warning her to cool it. When she actually did one of the sequences you’d called beforehand, she ended up breaking your sternum. You had to be out for twelve weeks. You never heard from Bea. It was fine. Whatever.

But the next time Bea Priestley wrestled you, she broke your neck.

You told her you didn’t want to take anything too risky. “Why? You don’t trust me?” she had the audacity to ask you. During the match, when she picked you up and flipped you upside down, you knew what was coming, so you tried to get into a safe position. But none of that mattered. Nothing would have saved you.

You remembered dropping on you head, and you remember seeing a light, and you remember your whole body going limp. It felt like you weight a million pounds; you were completely paralyzed from the neck down. You couldn’t move, and it was the scariest seconds of your life. Rick Knox immediately noticed. You closed your eyes and willed your brain to wiggle your fingers, and after about five or six seconds, you felt them rubbing against each other, even just slightly. You remembered seeing Bea try to kick you, but Rick Knox earnestly holding her back. When he pushed her far enough away, he knelt down by your head. “Haze, what happened?” he asked. You knew your body. You knew what this was. You told Rick not to touch you, that you had broken your neck.

You remember him throwing up one of the most emphatic X’s you’d ever seen and the whole crowd going silent. Rick was screaming something, but you were focused on the worst pain you’d ever felt in your neck as you began feeling again in your extremities. After that, so much was a blur. You remember Austin somehow being beside your face too, telling you everything was going to be okay – you later learned he was watching from the back and ran out the second Rick threw up the X. You remember Dustin being there too, doing much of what Austin was doing, giving Bea dirty looks – you later learned he was the one who called the ambulance. Austin and Dustin were very likely the reasons things weren’t worse, the reason why you were still walking.

At the hospital they ran x-rays and MRIs and other tests, as usual, and they put a neck brace on you. Dustin had followed you to the hospital to explain everything to the emergency doctors, Austin and Kyle and Candice following close behind in a car. When the results finally came back, it was even worse than you – than everybody – thought.

“Your disc hit your spinal cord, which is why you saw the white light,” the doctor explained. “That’s what caused the temporary paralysis.”

“So I broke it, like I thought,” you wanted the confirmation. People had recovered from broken necks before. So many had been able to get back into the ring.

The doctor sighed. “Miss Fiore…” she began. “Your disc hit your spinal cord. You didn’t fracture your neck. You didn’t break it. What you suffered is what we refer to as a spinal cord concussion. You don’t have to sever your spinal cord to be paralyzed for life, you could just touch it and be paralyzed for life. This…what happened to you…is technically worse.”

You remember feeling as if the blood drained from your body. “Paralyzed?”

She sighed again. “Miss Fiore…you have a very, very similar injury to Christopher Reeve. Your C2 is what controls your breathing. The truth is, when it hit your spinal cord, you should have suffocated to death in the ring. Out of the five percent of people that survive this injury, ninety-nine percent are paralyzed. It’s quite literally a miracle that you are still able to walk.”

You had emergency spinal fusion surgery less than 24 hours later. Four screws, a rod, and sixteen staples created a gnarly, awful scar on your neck that was still visible whenever you had your hair up.

Your wrestling career was over.

Your phone buzzed loudly from your coffee table, breaking your train of thought. At least it kept you from crying. When you picked it up, you noticed Tyson’s name flash across the screen.

Want to come up and watch some Netflix or something? We can even keep watching that German duchess show you like. Promise.

He lived in one of the penthouses on the 34th floor, while you lived in a two bedroom on the 18th. How embarrassing was that? Even your living situations were inextricably linked. You swiped your phone open and texted him back quickly.

It’s okay. I need some time alone. Let’s go for coffee tomorrow or something.

It was Dustin who had to make the call to Tyson when you were in the hospital. He was in Japan on a tour, and word hadn’t gotten to him. Dustin told you he had freaked out on the phone, like completely freaked out. After your surgery and after all your visitors had left, your room surrounded by flowers and get well soon cards, you FaceTimed him. He picked up on barely the second ring. It was the first time you’d ever seen him tear up, though you later learned he didn’t completely break down until after he hung up. You tried to cheer him up, telling him the first thing you were going to do when you were cleared was go to Japan to see him. He made you promise not to fly unless a doctor said it was okay. He had two weeks off in about a month’s time and resolved to stay with you for the duration to help you. You told him it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted.

Those two weeks were when you realized Tyson would be in your life forever.

You’d still done well for yourself since then. You ended up starting a variety of projects – a podcast, becoming a semi-influencer on Instagram. But perhaps most successful, and what kept your memory alive in the hearts and minds of wrestling fans worldwide despite not fighting in the ring anymore, was your YouTube series. Kick Out in the Kitchen. A series you started, inspired by the memory of your dad who was a chef, where you invited wrestlers to help you cook increasingly complex dishes. You’d interview them along the way, teach them how to properly cut an onion, and make sure they didn’t slice off a finger in the process. It was hysterical, and it was a hit.

Your life was good. It really was. You had amazing friends, you had your career, you had your mom in Winnipeg, you had an apartment, you had Tyson. But sometimes you ached for the past; sometimes you wanted to still be in the ring, winning championships and changing the wrestling landscape just like your close friends were doing. That just wasn’t in the cards for you, and that’s okay. But it still hurt sometimes.

Your phone buzzed again, the badge rolling down from the top of your screen.

Are you sure? Need to talk?

I’m good. Thanks Ty <3 see you tomorrow.

***

It all began with Portofino.

Well, it all really began with Tyson making a remark about how you always carried a book around in your gym bag. You were in Winnipeg then, training to become a wrestler, and he’d visited the school on a trip home from Japan in 2011. “I promised my mom I’d graduate university before pursuing wrestling full-time,” you had explained to him. “She wants me to have a degree. It’s a non-negotiable.”

The book in question that he saw that day was An Artist of the Floating World by Kazuo Ishiguro. He was intrigued by the Japanese name of the author more than anything, although when you told him the synopsis, he perked up quite considerably.

He was 28 at the time. You were 20.

You were so, so young, but you were the only one that had spoken to him at length about your vision of what pro wrestling is and what pro wrestling could be. You listened to him more intently than anyone else in your class when he spoke of his time in Japan. You’d seen the match he had at his cottage. You saw his match against nine-year-old Haruka and against Yoshihiko the blow-up doll. Some of your fellow trainees looked at you weird. You were the only one who had expressed any interest in travelling somewhere other than the United States for pro wrestling – maybe go to the UK, or do a tour of Europe, or, if you were lucky enough, do a tour of Japan.

By the end of the week, Tyson gave you his number and said if you were ever in Japan to contact him.

You did more than that. You didn’t just wait the two years between meeting him and graduating to speak to him again. You actively kept in touch with him. You became friends as you learned more about each other. So much so that after local shows on weekends, travelling to Toronto, Calgary, Vancouver, and Pasadena in the summers to wrestle, and graduation, when you arrived in Japan for the first time he picked you up from the airport.

He looked out for you. He always did.

He always would.

***

PORTOFINO, 2014

i'd live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time

You found yourself squished in the backseat of a tiny Italian car between Matt Jackson and Kenny Omega, Tommaso Ciampa in the driver’s seat and Nick Jackson in the passenger’s seat. That’s who they were last night, anyway, participating in matches and stealing the show in Genoa, Italy. Today, you were just Matt, Tyson, Tommaso, Nick, and Hazel going to Portofino.

The promoter who had lured you all (and more) to Italy for a mini tour had mentioned the famous Italian Riviera town was only an hour away, so on the two days off you had between shows, you all decided to go. Nick had found the hotel and booked the rooms. Tommaso volunteered to drive. A car with Austin, Kyle, Johnny, Candice, and Bobby were following close behind you.

“You’re not squished, are you? D’you have enough room?” Tyson asked as he looked down at your frame, tiny in comparison to the bulk that surrounded you.

“I’ll live,” you assured him. “Besides, you’re the one with your knees up to your chin. Why didn’t you demand the front seat?”

“I couldn’t leave you in the middle between Matt and Nick,” he said, as if it was his moral obligation to protect you from two of the nicest guys on earth. “Besides, Nick wants to learn more Italian.”

“Nick can barely speak English.”

“Whatja just say about me?” he hissed playfully from the backseat. A smile spread across Tyson’s face. “You’re gonna pay for that, Hazel.”

“I’m terrified.”

“You’re fearless, huh?” Tommaso joked from the front seat, looking at you through his rearview mirror.

“Not fearless. I’m scared of a lot of things,” you clarified, being honest. “But Matt and Nick aren’t one of ‘em.”

When you all got into town, you checked into the hotel. It was obvious that Matt and Nick would share a room together, just like it was obvious Johnny and Candice would, too. After Austin paired up with Kyle (they were, technically, the other couple on the trip), and Tomasso paired up with Bobby, you and Tyson were inevitably the only pair left. Was it normal for a young female wrestler to sleep in a room with her mentor during a trip to Italy? Who knows. You (and Candice) were used to being the only girls in the room a lot. This was no different. All you knew was that it didn’t matter to you: you knew Tyson, and everybody else, and it was the last thing on your mind because what really mattered was that you were in Italy.

Tyson unlocked the hotel room, the both of you pulling your bags in behind you. There were two single beds placed together in the room, a window and a door out to the balcony providing the perfect cross breeze.

“Okay, we’re not in a university dorm,” you commented, scoffing at the setup of the beds before pushing them together. Tyson just watched. You looked up at him. “You need sunscreen?”

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded his head.

You found it in your bag and tossed it over to him. You walked over to the small balcony and stepped out, taking in the view of the harbour from the room. You guys got lucky, the way that this hotel was even available on such short notice – and five rooms at that. The sun was shining, there was a slight breeze, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. That alone told you that it was going to be a great day.

You had been admiring the view of the harbour so much that you almost didn’t hear Tyson step out and join you on the balcony. It was so small that between your bodies and the two chairs, it was full. “Matt and Nick texted to meet in the lobby in fifteen,” he said. “Are you good with that?”

Your bathing suit was already on underneath your sun dress, so you nodded your head. “Just need the sunscreen,” you mentioned, and he handed it to you. You perched your leg up on one of the chairs to slather the sunscreen on your leg, bringing it all the way up to the tops of your thighs. Tyson couldn’t help but stare at your legs and not the view of the harbour. You tried not to smile about it and looked away instead. “Do we know where we’re going, by the way? Portofino doesn’t exactly have a beach.”

Tyson furrowed his brows. “How do you know?”

“My dad was from around here, remember?”

Tyson nodded at your reminder. “That’s right. Sorry, I forgot.”

You’d told Tyson a lot of stories about your dad since you met him, and every time you told a story, mentioned a characteristic, an odd quirk your dad used to do, he’d always listened intently. You’d lost your dad to cancer at fifteen years old, and you missed him every day since. It left a hole in you. Understanding how close you and your dad were, Tyson always made sure to remember the details. You mentioned to him once how you actually liked speaking about him because it meant you were keeping his memory alive, and Tyson told you he thought that was the most touching thing he’d ever heard.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you said, moving on to your other leg. “I remember coming here as a kid. The beaches are really rocky. Either we get lucky and there’s nobody, or we have to find our own private place.”

He watched your hands travel up your thighs. “You should take the reins on that, then,” he said. You could see his Adam’s apple bob in his neck. “Tommaso’s Italian is shit.”

You did. Eventually, when you and the group made it down to the harbour, you asked in your broken Italian where the best place was – you probably sounded like a caveman – and some delightful locals pointed you in the right direction. Like you remembered, it was rocky, but you found enough spots on huge flat rocks for towels and bags. The best part was you were right beside a climbable cliff, so you knew all the guys would be doing crazy jumps. The entire afternoon was spent between tanning on the rocks and cooling off in the water. You had jumped off the cliff with Candice, with Tyson, and with Austin. You swam in the water and got your hair wet and let the sunlight hit your face. You’d caught Tyson’s eye so many times you lost count. You felt pure happiness.

There was a moment after you jumped off the cliff for the second time with Tyson – a good photo op, according to Matt taking them – where you held hands as your ran and plummeted into the water. Even underwater, despite the pressure, your hands stayed clasped. It was only when you got back to the surface that your hands separated. You could see Tyson’s smile. “You alright?” he asked.

You only nodded. You paddled the small distance over to him and attached your whole body to his. You don’t know what came over you, but you wrapped your legs around his torso underwater, and as you did you could feel his hands go to your thighs. Your arms wrapping around his shoulders, attaching yourself to him piggy-back style. He looked behind his shoulder to see you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded again. “I just feel like being close to you,” you admitted. “Is that okay?”

There was a slight pause. “Of course,” he said. “You want to stay out here for a bit?”

“Yeah. Just you and me for a little bit,” you said. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m having the time of my life.”

“It sucks that we only get one day. This area of Italy is so beautiful. Have you ever been?”

“No. This is my first time,” he revealed. “I’m just happy I’m getting to spend it with you.”

You smiled, giving him as much of a hug as you could by squeezing your limbs around him tighter. “You’re going to have to come back and spend a decent amount of time here. I remember coming here when I was nine to visit my dad’s family, and, Ty—Portofino isn’t even the most beautiful town on the water. And the food – the food!”

He smiled. “We’re going to have to find a place tonight. You’ll have to use your Italian again. Find us the best restaurant in the town.”

There was silence between the two of you, the noise from the waves and from your friends and the other tourists filling the air instead. You leaned your head forward so it was settled right into his shoulder. “Hey Ty?” your voice was low this time.

“Hmm?”

“I’m happy I get to spend it with you, too. Sometimes I feel like all I want to do is spend time with you.”

Tyson felt the same. His breath caught in his throat. All he could do was nod. “Yeah…yeah.”

That night, after showering the salt water off and changing into another flowy dress, you all went out for dinner and had the best pasta and fish and wine you’d ever had in your life. The waiter fell in love with your group and kept bringing you goodies: glasses of wine from the cellar, shots from the bar, extra plates of tiramisu or bombe. Your stomach was full but your heart was fuller, and you didn’t want the day to end.

Retiring back to the hotel meant you and Tyson would be alone again. After the both of you packed away your things so you were already packed for tomorrow morning, you changed into pyjamas and got in to your pushed together beds. Tyson browsed through his phone a bit before setting it on his beside and turning over to his side to sleep.

You, on the other hand, could not.

You kept thinking of the feeling of his hands on your body. It wasn’t like it was a new sensation – you trained with him constantly. But there was something about the way he touched it when you were both in the water, the way nobody could see how his arms wrapped around you or how his hands went to your thighs to wrap your legs around his body as he gave you a piggy-back ride. Even at dinner, sitting beside you at the table on the patio overlooking the water, his forearm rubbing up against yours underneath the table since your group was so squished together.

It was electric. And now, all that electricity was in you with nowhere to go.

So much time had passed that you were 95% sure he was asleep. If you were to say anything, you’d definitely be waking him up from his beauty sleep. “Ty…” you mumbled out, still unsure if you even should as you stared up at the ceiling.

“Hazel?”

Well, at least you felt less bad about it now. “Can you sleep?”

“Nah,” he said. “Can you?”

“I think the sun today energized my body to the point where I can re-enact Shawn and Bret’s iron man match.”

You could hear Tyson giggle from his side of the bed. “Are you Bret or Shawn in that scenario?”

“Both.”

He snorted. You could feel him shift positions so that he could look at you now. You turned over to your side as well. “I’m dead serious. I feel, like, buzzed.”

“I’m sure one of the guys has melatonin if you’re really worried,” he said.

You shook your head. “I’ll be fine,” you assured him. “Can I see all the pictures you took today?”

Tyson had learned a long time ago from his good friend Rami Sebei that he should be taking pictures of all the places he went and everything he saw and did (just as Rami did), so he made it a point since then to do just that. He leaned over and unplugged his phone from the nightstand, and when he began to set back into his spot in bed, you didn’t let him until you had fit yourself into his side. He didn’t even think twice as you did so, wrapping his arm around your body as you nestled your head against his chest. You were so close he could smell the product you’d put into your hair. You giggled through all the photos, at Austin’s terrified face the first time he jumped, versus Matt and Nick contemplating whether they could do a shooting star press into the water. You saw the pictures he took of you and Candice hugging each other, and the pictures Bobby took of you and Tyson together on the rocks and posing in the shallow part of the water. The more you laughed and smiled, the more he did too.

When you’d seen all the photos, Tyson put his phone back on the nightstand but you stayed right where you were. He laid back, savouring the feeling of your head on his chest, of your arm draped across him, how your fingertips had tip-toed and glided along his skin every time you laughed at a picture.

“Can I ask you a question?” you asked, moving to look at him.

“Of course.”

“How lame did you think I was the first time you met me?”

He giggled again. So distinct in its sound; you’d be able to hear it from a mile away. “I didn’t think you were lame at all,” he was smiling at you. “I was actually shocked at how mature you were for your age, and how much you could talk about pro wrestling – more than anyone else in that class, that’s for sure. You were a bit of a freak, but I liked you. I don’t think you’re lame, or were lame.”

“I feel like you’re lying to me.”

“I’m not lying,” he assured you. “I’d never lie to you. Trust me on that one.”

“I’d never lie to you, either,” you said, butterflies in your stomach.

You were looking right in Tyson’s blue eyes then, hyperaware of the feeling of his fingertips grazing over the skin on your arm. His sunkissed skin, his eye crinkles, the scruff of his beard – it all added up in making you push yourself up so you could kiss him. It was very soft at first, but not hesitant, and when you pulled away you looked into his eyes, only to kiss him again.

He kissed back, moving his lips in perfect sync with yours as you continued, kiss after kiss after kiss. You don’t know how long you’d been kissing for, but eventually, it was your tongue that grazed his lips first, and soon you were tasting each other. After more time, he pushed back slightly so you were on your back, and gently, gently he got on top of you.

“Is this okay?” was the only thing he mumbled between when you started kissing and that moment.

“Please, Ty,” you nodded your head slightly and quickly. “We’ve been waiting all day.”

You both took it slow, surprisingly, despite all the pent up energy from the day. You wanted to make it last. Tyson’s body loomed over yours for a while, kissing your lips and your neck with such expertise you hadn’t experienced from anywhere else. You remembered cradling his face and running your fingers through his curly hair and thinking to yourself how lucky you were to be under him, to be with him like this so intimately. It wasn’t just that he’d been kind to you from the beginning, or that he’d taken you under his wing and acted as your mentor, especially in Japan, or that he’d looked out for you anywhere you found yourselves. It was that he was so considerate in his everyday life, so wise and so funny – God, did he ever make you laugh – and so passionate about his dreams and goals. A translation of that was happening right now, on a twin bed in a hotel room in Portofino, Italy.

Tyson had already been shirtless in bed, so all you really had to do was push down his boxers. You could feel the length and size of him against your body then, and your breath could only hitch in your throat in anticipation of what was to happen very soon. Your breathing got heavier as he helped you pull off your pyjama top, and you didn’t feel an ounce of self-consciousness as he looked down at your nearly naked body. He brought his kisses down your chest and along both your breasts before pulling down your bottoms.

He kissed you as he entered you, but you broke it as you let out a soft “Oh Jesus” at the feeling. His lips left yours and looked into your eyes then, making sure everything was okay without even saying anything. He grabbed each of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers before pushing them above your head, looking deep in to your eyes without looking away. You began moaning softly, involuntarily, at the pressure you felt of him holding you in that position as he moved in and out of you, your hips crashing together with every one of his thrusts. His eyes were blue – so blue – but you knew they were filled with fire. You were sure that your moans got slightly louder as the time passed, mixed in with your pants of his name every time he hit just the right spot.

At some point he let go of your hands and they immediately went to cup his face, pulling him down to kiss you so you could stick your tongue down his throat again. You didn’t stop kissing after that, your hands making their way up and down his torso, gripping on to his sides before moving up and settling underneath his arms and scratching at his shoulders and back. You were in heaven. Everything felt like pure bliss. The endless kisses, the moans from you and the moans from him. You had never felt anything so incredible in your life.

You noticed when Tyson’s breathing became more laboured, and you knew he was close. You were too. You dug your nails into his shoulders and tried to arch your hips just right. Hearing him grunt and let out a string of expletives under his breath was all you needed to do it again. “I’m so close,” you whispered, looking right into his eyes.

“Hazel…fuck…” was all he could let out.

“I want you to come inside me, Tyson.”

He didn’t last much longer after that, but he made sure you got there first. He looked into your eyes the whole time as he watched your orgasm overcome you, coursing through your body and making you moan out his name and dig your nails into his biceps. Only then did he allow himself his release, coming inside you, a series of grunts and moans of your name leaving him as he had his head buried in the crook of your neck.

You stayed together for a while, relishing in every last bit of what had just happened between you before Tyson couldn’t hold himself up on his forearms anymore. There was one last, long kiss before he pulled out of you. He lay by your side, still so close to your body. You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, and when you turned your head to look at him, he had an identical smile on his face, too.

Despite earlier complaints from the both of you of being unable to fall asleep, you had no trouble doing so now, your eyes feeling heavy and fluttering until you fell into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning was quiet except for the sound of birds chirping outside your window. The light was shining through from the morning sun, and when you opened your eyes and finally came to at least semi-consciousness, you saw and felt Tyson’s body underneath yours. He had an arm wrapped around you and were using him as a pillow.

Memories of what happened last night flooded your mind as you waited for him to wake up. From looking at the photos of the day to kissing him and then being under him, you remembered everything in vivid detail. You hadn’t been part of something so passionate in your life. It could have only happened with Tyson, too – you couldn’t picture it being with anyone else.

After a while, you felt him shift underneath you and groan, bringing his free hand up to rub his eyes. You began to trace shapes on his chest so he knew you were awake too. When he looked at you, a small, tired smile played on his lips. “Mornin’,” he whispered. “You good?”

“I’m good,” you nodded. “You sleep okay?”

“It was perfect.”

You smiled. “Even with me hogging the covers?”

“You actually didn’t this time. I was surprised,” he said, pulling your body so you were anchored right on top of his. He wiggled a bit to get comfortable, shifting the beds. “You were right about what you said last night, by the way. We’d been waiting for a while.”

You bit your bottom lip, nodding slightly. “You felt it too then, huh?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Of course I did.”

There was silence between you. Suddenly, a feeling came over you like lightning, seizing your whole body. You never used to be like this, but once you lost your dad, your emotions sometimes came in quick rushes – tsunamis, you sometimes referred to them – and you could never stop it from happening. You just had to learn how to deal with it, how to verbalize the emotion to solve it so you could go back to normal. This time, it wasn’t one of self-consciousness, or full-blown anxiety, or fear of the unknown, or anything major. It wasn’t even hesitation. It was just a nervousness; a nervousness of the soul. “This isn’t gonna change anything between us, is it?” you asked, verbalizing the first thing you became nervous about. Not having Tyson in your life wasn’t an option at this point.

“No,” he shook his head. “No it won’t.”

“And this won’t – I mean, you’re not gonna think differently about me, are you?” you continued. “Because I don’t – I know what it’s like for women in this business. I don’t want anybody thinking of me differently because of what we did—”

“Hey hey hey, shhhhh,” Tyson cooed. “Nobody’s going to think differently about you. Don’t think that. Nobody’s gonna know. It’ll stay between you and me, Hazel. I mean it.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. Not having the career you worked so hard to build also wasn’t an option at this point. People not respecting you wasn’t an option in general. You knew that respect would be gone if people knew you’d slept with your mentor. You could already imagine the things that would be said. You’d never earn anything on your own merit anymore; it would always be because you slept with Kenny Omega.

“Hazel, I would never,” he shook his head. “Like I said, we’d been waiting for a while. It happened. I don’t—I mean, I don’t think either of us regrets it—”

“—I don’t.”

“—Neither of us regrets it, but I don’t want anybody to know either. Nobody has to know, anyway. It’s nobody’s business but our own.”

That had calmed you down considerably. You were thankful he was so level-headed, thankful that he was so private in his dealings and personal life that you honestly didn’t have to worry. He wasn’t like so many others who would say one thing and do another; lead you on and then get with another girl. You had no worries that any of your friends or fellow wrestlers would ever know. You were able to keep your mouth shut. So was Tyson. “This is like Take This to Your Grave. You know, like the Fall Out Boy album?” you couldn’t help but quip.

Tyson snorted, rolling his eyes. “Hazel, were you even alive when that album came out?”

“HEY!” you jolted up, causing the beds to wiggle again. “I’ll have you know that was a seminal album in my life. “I was twelve and—”

“Oh my God, please stop talking right there,” he stressed. “Do not say another word.”

You smirked. “Did I just make you feel really o—”

“—Oh shit.”

You paused. “What?”

“—ohshitohshitohshit—”

“—What?!—”

“—Hold on!”

Tyson wrapped both his arms around you protectively, and before you knew it, you both had fallen through the beds. You yelped during the drop, but once you realized what had happened, you couldn’t stop laughing. Tears were falling from your eyes, rolling off of Tyson as he groaned from the impact – he took the brunt of it after all.

“Christ Almighty,” he grumbled through your hysterical laughs. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “That was worse than some bumps I’ve taken in the ring.”

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you managed to get out in a high-pitched voice between your hysterical laughter. “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this hard in my life.”

“Yeah, funny for you because I saved you!”

You propped yourself up on your forearm. Your cheeks were red from laughing, wet from the tears. “Let me kiss you one last time to make it better.” Except you didn’t wait. You just lowered your face and planted your lips on his. You didn’t know what you meant the kiss to be, but it lasted longer than anticipated, only stopping when the alert from Tyson’s phone went off. Only then did you pull away. “That must be Nick or Matt texting about breakfast. We should clean ourselves up and go.”

Tyson didn’t say anything as he watched you rise from the floor, not bothering to wrap the top sheet or comforter around your naked body. He stayed on the floor in between the beds as he heard the shower turn on, closing his eyes.

***

28th May 2023

criticize the way you fly when you're soaring through the sky shoot you down and then they sigh and say, "she looks like she's been through it"

You always found Las Vegas to be way too hot. It was a decent enough city, and you’d had some fun there, but the heat was always something you could never get over. Double or Nothing meant that there were so many people and personalities at T-Mobile Arena. You hung out mostly in the women’s locker room. At least there, you knew you were safe.

“You haven’t run into him, have you?” Hikaru asked discreetly, chomping down on a baby carrot.

You shook your head. “Nah. But I’ve kinda just been laying low in here. I hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.”

“That’s impossible,” Hikaru said. “You can stay in here the whole night if you have to. I mean, he’s gotta talk to Tyson about what’s happening in a few weeks, right?”

“Yeah. Worst case scenario I walk in on them during that.”

“Well, if you do, you call me so I can whoop his ass for you. It’s been a long time coming for that punk ass bitch.”

You couldn’t help but snort at her words. She had obviously been informed well about the transgressions that had been committed and she was firmly Team Hazel. Not that it was ever any doubt – you and Hikaru had been great friends ever since your days in Japan. But the main different between you was that Hikaru would follow through – if she said she was going to whoop someone’s ass, she’d whoop someone’s ass. You’d mostly just cry about it in an abandoned washroom and in a hotel room afterwards. It was your specialty.

“You’ve always been my girl, Hikaru. What would I do without you?” you quipped with a smile.

Hikaru smirked. “Don’t even go there, girl. It all comes from here, by the way,” she said, pounding lightly on her chest where her heart was. “I got you, Hazel. You want me to grab you something from catering?”

You shook your head, standing up from your chair. “I shouldn’t be afraid to go get food,” you said. “You want more carrots?”

Your walk to catering was eventful, having a chat with Christopher Daniels along the way. Once you got there, you grabbed a plate of food, some Gatorade, and a Greek salad. You didn’t see Tony Schiavone creep up behind you, but he was a welcome partner to chat with as he picked up some dinner too. The two of you walked through the halls together, chatting like old friends as your food got cold. You didn’t really care, because every chat with Tony was so lively, and he expressed serious interest in appearing on Kick Out in the Kitchen. When you said goodbye as Tony disappeared into one of the guys’ locker rooms, Greg left the one across the way. The door was slow to close. You’d think for all the money Las Vegas had, doors would close properly in their arena.

“Right, and so many people shat on her even though it wasn’t her fault,” you heard an all-too-familiar voice from the locker room. “She got heat for it for months. She’d be crying every night because all the shitty girls didn’t want to wrestle her. And when she got to Japan, she already had a reputation. Took a lot of convincing to get her into promotions. Bea knew what she was doing in the ring but she got such a bad rap.”

“But you guys broke up a while ago, no?” said another voice.

“Mistakes happen in the ring all the time,” you heard one more voice.

“All the time,” the familiar voice said. Then a giggle. “It’d be much harder now to pick her up and drop her on her head, if you know what I mean.”

Everyone in the room, whoever they were, were giggling. Snickering, even, at his comment about your body. You froze in place, and by the time their conversation started up again, the door had finally closed, their voices gone.

Your body had inevitably gone through a change after you were forced to stop wrestling. You had been in such great shape – you had to be, for heaven’s sake – and had worked out often. But once you broke your neck and had to get the fusion surgery, most of it had to stop. It might put too much stress on your neck in ways you never thought possible, your doctor said. And truth be told, you were too scared to do anything too tenuous, because like the doctor told you, you should have suffocated to death in the ring and it was a miracle you were even walking in the first place. This meant that you had gained weight – about thirty pounds, when all was said and done. But because of your physique beforehand, it was noticeable. You didn’t look like a wrestler with muscles and abs anymore, but you still looked like, well, a normal woman with some meat on her bones. You weren’t unrecognizable. Nobody cared, nobody commented on it.

Except, apparently, Will Ospreay.

You don’t know what came over you, but you dropped everything but the Gatorade into the next trashcan you saw. You felt that if you ate anything, it would just come back up. That’s how much your stomach was in knots at his comment. And the laughs. God, you wished you had just barged in to see who was laughing at the comment, at your body. Nobody had any idea what you went through, and how bad you took the news that you could never wrestle again. It ate away at you for months, years even, and now these men were laughing about how your body had changed because of that life-altering event? Fuck them. And fuck Will Ospreay.

The same Will Ospreay that had endeared you when you were younger. The same Will Ospreay that you fancied, that kissed you and made out with you and strung you along for months, always saying no to firm commitment but always calling you late at night to hook up or have fun. The same Will Ospreay who told you that you could be clingy and overbearing despite not being clingy or overbearing. The same Will Ospreay that led you on, letting you believe you were the only one. The same Will Ospreay that sent you a simple text when you had broken your neck and never paid you a visit. The same Will Ospreay that began hooking up with Bea so soon afterwards that you were sure there was overlap. The same Will Ospreay that began to date her only a few weeks after your surgery, her smug smile on every uploaded picture only a reminder to you of what had happened in your personal and professional life. The same Will Ospreay that you fucking hated with everything in you.

You escaped into a washroom, again, and checked every stall to ensure it was empty, again. God, you felt like you were going to do this every show now. You didn’t cry this time. Instead, you began rubbing at your tattoo on the inside of your right wrist: a chef’s knife that you got in memory of you dad. You made sure to breathe in and out, in and out, in and out. Closing your eyes, you thought back to the first few months after your neck surgery. The first few weeks were hard. You had cried a lot, and you hated your neck brace. You remember finding out the news about Will and Bea and basically becoming a vegetable in your bed. The two weeks that Tyson came to stay with you made everything better, but there was one moment that stuck out, that you remembered so vividly.

Tyson had made lunch one day, some chicken thighs and vegetables and he plated some old pasta salad in your fridge. You were excited to eat, but when you tried gripping on to your fork and knife, you couldn’t. A common side effect after neck surgery, especially neck surgery like yours, but it hadn’t happened to you yet. You thought you were over that hurdle, that it would have happened right after your surgery. You tried again. You couldn’t. You tried just the fork, in your right hand, and you managed to keep it in your hand instead of having it fall on the table. But when you tried to fork a piece of pasta, you couldn’t at all, and your fork fell loudly into your plate. You started sobbing like a baby. Tyson rushed over to you – he had been preparing drinks – and asked what was wrong. You explained through tears and he could barely understand you. You had lost your appetite you were so distraught. But then Tyson – bless him – got you to calm down enough that you weren’t a sobbing mess. He picked up your fork, got a couple of vegetables on it, and held it up near your mouth to feed you.

“Tys…” you remember being on the verge of tears again. You felt like a fucking baby having somebody feed you.

“Eat, Hazel. I got you.”

You almost didn’t, because you were too proud. But when you saw the look on his face, and how he was looking at you, you opened your mouth and ate the food. You chewed it slowly, embarrassed that it had come to this. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“You’re feeding me like I’m a baby. This is embarrassing.”

Tyson shook his head. “This is not embarrassing at all,” he said before forking some chicken. “What would be embarrassing is if you made me do an airplane to get you to eat.”

He always knew how to get you to smile, even at your lowest point. You opened your mouth again to eat the chicken. “Hey Tyson?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. I mean it.”

Tyson cut up and fed you your entire meal, even gripping your glass for you to drink, before eating himself. And a few days later, when it happened again, he did it all again without hesitation. That’s what Tyson had done for you. That’s what made you realize he would be in your life forever. And those men in that locker room were laughing.

***

Tyson always made decisions for the good of his company – the company that he helped create and build from the ground up. Whatever was good for the company was good for him. Whatever made his friends money and got fans in seats. That meant that despite his personal feelings towards Will Ospreay, he was working him again at Forbidden Door in Toronto. They had faced each other earlier in the year at Wrestle Kingdom, for the good of New Japan Pro Wrestling. Now he’d be facing him for the good of All Elite Wrestling. Tyson was able to keep his feelings quite personal, never letting anybody know what he really thought or felt.

Everybody except the two guys who could read him like a book.

Matt and Nick looked on as he spoke with Will about their match in Toronto. Tyson would be dropping the title – he knew that already – but they were going over spots, storyline, and emotion. Will focused on spots, but Tyson was focusing on emotion. What was the story? What story did Tyson want to tell?

“What do you think about a big spot, like—”

“Another big spot? Haven’t we got enough big spots?” Tyson quipped.

“Listen, I was thinking of a Tiger Driver—”

“—Oh fuck—” a female voice exclaimed.

Everybody’s heads turned to the doorway to see Hazel popping in her head. Tyson, Will, Matt, Nick, Austin, Chris Daniels – everyone looked at her. Tyson noticed her stare fixed on Will before looking at him. He knew that this was the one thing she didn’t want to happen. Running into Will. “Um, I’m sorry to interrupt—”

“—It’s okay sweetcheeks—” Matt offered.

“—I’m gonna, um, bring Hikaru back to the hotel when everything is over, so don’t worry. Bye.”

She shut the door abruptly. The men in the room stayed silent for a few moments before stealing quick glances at each other. Austin looked over at Tyson first, but wasn’t able to read the emotion on his face. Nick and Matt looked at Tyson too, but he was as stoic as a rock. Will had already shrugged his shoulders and discounted the experience. “Anyone else see how her eyes were watery?” Chris Daniels commented.

“Probably emotional because she knows we’re losing tonight,” Nick tried to cover quickly. He didn’t want to speculate in a room full of men why Hazel Fiore looked like she was tearing up. It was nobody’s business. Especially not with Will in the room.

“She’s always been emotional,” Will commented, as if he was an authority on the issue. Like he had the right to speak about her in any capacity. “It’s like, you kinda feel bad, but you also understand why, y’know? She’s got major daddy issues.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tyson’s response was literally automatic upon hearing the words come out of Will’s mouth, his tone scathing and unlike anything any of the other men had ever heard before. Will looked at him, shocked, as if he hadn’t said anything wrong, even though Matt and Nick had also voiced their displeasure with words Tyson couldn’t hear through his anger and disgust. “Seriously, what’s your fucking problem?” he followed up on a dumbfounded Will.

“What?” he asked incredulously.

“Who the fuck says that about a girl who lost her dad at fifteen to cancer,” Tyson’s voice was still calm but full of disgust. “It’s so fucking insensitive. How could you even say that?”

“Ty, come on—”

“—Just fuck off, Will. Seriously, fuck off,” he stood up from his seat and waved Will off, shaking his head. “Get out of my fucking locker room. I swear to God. I know a lot of dumb fucks, Will, but you just might be the dumbest.”

“Ty—”

“You’re winning the belt in Toronto, so do however many spots you fuckin’ like. Maybe now at least one of your five star matches will be memorable because I’m in it. Now get out,” his tone was angrier and threatening.

Will left with a scowl on his face. All the men in the room watched Tyson as he paced back and forth. When he noticed Chris look at him, he stopped abruptly. “What?”

“Nothing. You did the right thing.”

***

“Please go away. You’re going to think I’m a big baby. That I’m still as lame as I was when you first met me,” you bemoaned, Tyson refusing to move from his heat on the edge of the bed. “I’m serious. Go to Wendy’s with the Bucks. Get me a Frosty. Be anywhere but here so you don’t have to see me like this.”

“Why? Because I haven’t seen you like this before?” he countered, making you fall silent. He had seen you like this many times before, but it was still unnerving, still a bit embarrassing to be a 31-year-old woman still emotional about something that happened seven years ago. And to be like this over a guy you had actively – and successfully – avoided seeing for those seven years? “C’mon, Haze. Give me a little bit of credit.”

You sighed, taking a deep breath as you looked him in the eye. “I don’t mean it like that,” your voice was small. “I don’t mean to make you mad—”

“—You’re not making me mad—”

“—I just don’t want my problems becoming your problems. You deal with enough shit already. You got bit by an adult human male, Tyson.”

The both of you couldn’t help but snort. The situation had to be lightened slightly. “Come on. Tell me.”

You sighed again. “Something happened earlier in the night, before I walked in on you guys in the locker room. I had gone to catering and was speaking with Tony and then when he went into his locker room, Greg was leaving the one across. And while the door was open, I just…you know, heard some stuff.”

Tyson furrowed his brows. “Stuff? What stuff?”

“I kinda just overheard him talking. I don’t know what his breakup with Bea was like, and I really don’t care, but uhhh, he was telling them some sob story about how much heat she got for what she did to me and how it affected their relationship, and he just made this comment, like, ‘It’d be much harder now to pick her up and drop her on her head, if you know what I mean’, and—”

Tyson didn’t even say anything, but you had to stop talking because he stood up at lightning speed and began making his way towards the door. “Tyson—”

“—Do not stop me.”

Tyson was fast, but you were faster. You slipped right by him and barricaded the door dramatically, like you were holding him hostage. You kind of feel like you had to now, based on what you’d just told him. “Nope. You’re not leaving this hotel room—”

“—Yes I fucking am—”

“—No, you’re not, because that’s not even the worst part.”

He stepped back. It was like he couldn’t comprehend what you’d just said. “What do you mean that’s not even the worst part?” his voice got high pitched.

“Go back to the bed—”

“—Hazel—”

“Go back to the bed, now, or else,” you threatened. You had nothing to threaten him with at all, but you were serious. You didn’t want drama, or commotion, or anything of the sort. Tyson had been through enough over the last year that you thought he should be done for the rest of his life. There was no reason for him to take this on as his own, to defend whatever honour you had left – if you had any at all.

You laid one of your hands on his forearm to calm him down. “It got worse because once he said it, I heard people laughing,” you explained. You felt him shift, his arm twitching in anger, but it was subtle. “And I know you’re going to ask who it was, but I don’t know. I didn’t go in there to see or to yell at them or whatever else. I just took my dinner and chucked it into the closest garbage can and just…” you trailed off. “You just…you can’t imagine how awful it feels to be a woman and have your colleagues, your supposed friends, whoever they were, laughing at a joke about your body. It’s soul-crushing. And I just…you know,” you shrugged, unable to find the words. “After everything I’ve been through, I still let this bullshit get to me.”

Tyson pulled you into him to hug you, wrapping his giant arms around you just like he used to during your first visit to Japan, just like he used to after big matches after his shower, just like he always did, really. Tyson gave the best hugs. When he engulfed you, it was like all your problems just washed away and you were cleansed. It was like you were back in the waters of Portofino holding on to him, not wanting to let go. “D’you remember when I stayed with you those two weeks after your neck surgery and I had to feed you?”

“Of course, Ty. I actually thought about it after I heard the laughing. I’d never forget that.”

“Just remember that,” he encouraged. “Just remember everything I’d do for you before you let anyone of those fuckers get in your head.”

You waited for Tyson to wash his face to put on your pyjamas before the both of you got into bed. You wondered if he’d get close at all, possibly even touch you, but the second you were both laying down, your question was answered. His body moved towards yours like a fight-or-flight response, one of his arm draping over your body. He curled up right against your back, like the big spoon, your body nestling perfectly into his. Memories flooded his mind. Memories of the G1 Climax Tournament he won.

In the quietness of the room, with the low hum of the air conditioner the only noise, Tyson placed a kiss on your shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but he knew you felt it.

For him, it was getting harder and harder to control.

***

TOKYO 2016

i said remember this moment in the back of my mind the time we stood with our shaking hands, the crowds in stands went wild

You know you will remember the moment vividly as you watch it happen. You will remember the finished move and how Tyson pinned his opponent. You will remember the bell ringing after the referee’s hand hit the mat three times. You will remember the roar of the crowd and the excitement in everybody’s eyes to see the first ever gaijin win the G1 Climax. You will remember how gruelling of a month it was for Tyson, how emotionally draining it had been. You will remember it all culminating in this moment. Of him winning. Of him making history.

You weren’t able to see him right away. There were in-ring celebrations and post-match press conferences to be had, and various people from New Japan saw him first. You had to be on standby, and you could have chewed your nails off waiting. Even when the suits finished, the handler from New Japan made you wait an additional ten minutes just to see him.

You knocked lightly on his door before peeping your head in. He was sitting on a giant production case, the tournament trophy beside him. His legs were dangling off the edge, not touching the floor. Not many things could make him look small. He looked your way and when he saw you, the most tired of smiles appeared on his face.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” he nodded quickly, and you slipped in before shutting the door behind you. “What did you think?”

“I think you’re incredible,” you said, approaching him and standing in front of him. Your eyes scanned over the trophy briefly before you focused your attention back on him. “Has it sunk in yet for you? That you just made history?”

He took a few breaths, shaking his head slightly. “No. I guess I did, didn’t I? First gaijin to win the G1. I can say that now.”

“Doesn’t it feel amazing?” you asked.

“I’m so tired and drained that I don’t know what amazing feels like right now,” he said, causing you both to laugh slightly. “I think tomorrow morning as I’m eating breakfast it’s gonna hit me like a ton of bricks.”

You couldn’t help but smile, stepping closer to him so you were standing between his spread legs. You don’t know what came over you, but seeing him the way he was – in his gear, beside the giant G1 Climax trophy, still trying to catch his breath, the weight of what just happened and what it meant looming over the both of you…you really don’t know what came over you.

You kissed him. You held his big, sweaty head in your hands and you kissed him. Only a couple of seconds after it began, you realized what you were doing and you pulled away. “Shitsorry—sorry—” you began mumbling and apologizing quickly.

“—It’s okay—”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry Tys—”

“—Hazel, it’s alright. It’s okay.”

You put your fingers over your lips, as if that would stop it from happening again. A physical barrier is what you needed, apparently. Not a mental one. You looked in each other’s eyes before one of his characteristic close-lipped smiles spread across his face. “I’m very happy you’re here,” he whispered. “I really—I really like you being here.”

“I think you’re just saying that because I act like an idiot and provide you entertainment,” you said, trying to make light of what just happened.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot at all,” he shook his head only slightly, not able to do much else with his body after what had just transpired in the ring. “Please stop thinking that.”

“I bet you do secretly.”

“No,” he was firmer in his tone this time. “I know a lot of dumb people, and you’re not one of them.”

Before you could say anything else, there was another knock at the door. You stepped away from being so close to Tyson. He looked extremely annoyed. A man began speaking in Japanese from the other side of the door, and Tyson answered back while rolling his eyes. The door closed before you even understood what was going on. “Sorry.”

“What was that about?”

“Driver wanted to know how much longer. I told him fifteen minutes so I could shower.”

“It’s okay,” you said, nodding your head once. “Go shower. We—I’ll meet you in the car. I know you’re tired, so we’ll celebrate tomorrow.”

The driver drove you both to a local hotel near Ryogoku Kokugikan, the company deciding to put everybody up in the hotel since they wanted to film a press conference tomorrow afternoon. You checked into your respective rooms, which were only down the hall from each other. But as you were getting ready for bed, your phone buzzed on your bathroom vanity.

Neck hurts like a motherfucker.

Colour me shocked, Ty. Are you okay?Do you want me to drop by? I have some Rub A535.

What are you, my dad?

You rolled your eyes at his response. He was the geriatric one.

Has neck pain, still acts like a pain in the ass.

You threw on a robe and made sure to grab your key card before making your way over to his room. You knocked quietly and he opened not long after. You let yourself in. “Seriously, Rub A535? You’re an old man.”

“I bet it’s like looking into a mirror then, eh?” you countered.

Tyson’s jaw dropped. “You jezebel!”

You both broke out into laughter, making your way further into his room. You threw your robe onto the extra bed. He was wearing an old, stupid pair of shorts to sleep in. “Sit,” you said as you got on his bed. “Show me where it’s hurting. I can try to massage it.”

“Are you licensed? Can I claim you on my insurance?”

You gave him a look. “Do you want my help or not!”

He giggled, sitting himself on the edge of the bed. “Right up over here,” he showed you with his hand, “and over here. Just be careful though, okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” both of your voices were calm at this point. There was no room for joking around. “You have to tell me if I’m hurting you,” you warned, with Tyson nodding his head.

You began massaging the first place he showed you, and almost the second you applied pressure, Tyson groaned. He encouraged you to keep going, that it felt good. “You know, this wouldn’t be happening to you if you didn’t keep landing on your neck all the time,” you whispered.

“What fun would that be?” he asked. You shook your head.

Your continued massaging, being as careful as you could, moving on to the other areas that he pointed out to you. You could hear his little satisfied exhales, the little groans he let out when you hit a spot well. You switched back and forth between the spots for a while, Tyson appreciating every minute. You didn’t know if he could feel how close you got once you really got into it, or if he could feel your breath on his neck. But you were happy you were making him feel better, happy you were with him and his beautiful soul on the biggest night of his career thus far.

“Ah shit,” you almost didn’t hear him swear under his breath.

You pulled your hands back towards your chest. “Fuck, did I hurt you?”

“No no, it’s okay, keep going,” he urged.

“Tys—”

“It wasn’t you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You stayed silent, exhaling slightly before continuing to massage over near his shoulder as you had been, being a little more careful. You would never be able to forgive yourself if you had hurt him somehow. He winced at some points and groaned in others, like he had been when you focused on his neck, but you could still tell something was up. When you looked over his shoulder, you could see him trying discreetly to adjust his shorts, pulling some of the fabric forward as if he was trying to hide or cover something.

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you kept massaging, garnering another groan from him. You took your time getting closer and closer to him until you were positive he could feel your breath on his skin. “Don’t worry about it, Ty,” you whispered in his ear in a knowing tone. “It’s okay.”

He shook his head slightly. You were positive the redness you saw in his cheeks wasn’t from the increased blood flow to his neck and shoulders. “No it’s not. It’s embarrassing. This is, like, what happens with pervs.”

“It’s not embarrassing. It happens. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize about,” you assured him. By this point, you had stopped paying attention to your massaging and had no idea if what you were doing even helped. You were too busy looking over his shoulder, trying to see through his shorts. You inhaled quietly. “D’you want me to take care of it?”

Tyson shook his head, still embarrassed. “No no no. Gosh Hazel, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’ll do it, Ty. I don’t mi—”

“—Hazel…” there was a hesitation in his voice.

There was a pause as your back and forth hung in the air. “Is it cause you don’t want me to?”

He shook his head. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” you asked, bringing your lips down to kiss his shoulder.

He stayed silent. He was almost ashamed because he couldn’t say anything out loud. How could he? He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn’t say it. He couldn’t let you know; it had to stay inside him. For his good. For your good. He felt you kiss his shoulder again and he inhaled. “Hazel…”

“Remember Portofino?”

He couldn’t help the small smile that spread on his lips. “Of course.”

You kissed your way from his shoulder to where it met his neck. “Do you really not want to? Cause I’ll stop,” you whispered in his ear.

Tyson shook his head. He could do many things, but he couldn’t deny this right now. “I just…I can barely move.”

“You don’t have to,” you assured him. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Haze…”

“Shhhh…” you cooed, kissing his neck. “Lie down.”

“Haze—you don’t—I don’t want you to think you have to do that.”

“I want to, Tyson. I feel safest with you.”

He didn’t lie down just yet. Instead, he pulled you on to his lap and began kissing you. You straddled him as you kissed him back, feeling his hands go to your thighs and travel around to your ass, squeezing the flesh there. You could barely let go of him as his tongue entered your mouth. Your hands wandered between his toned body and his hair, gripping it at the nape of his neck. He was so much bigger now, so much bigger than you remember him being. You didn’t know how long you just sat there making out for, but your lips felt swollen when you stopped, even if it just was momentarily. “Ty?” you breathed out, feeling his length between your legs.

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to be inside me or in my mouth?”

“Shit Hazel,” he swore underneath his breath. The way you worded the question almost made him come right then and there. “In—inside you.”

You gave him a quick kiss. “Lie down.”

He listened this time, and you both moved to better positions on the bed, him lying down like you demanded. You helped him out of his shorts, freeing his hard cock. You took off your own pyjama bottoms, but Tyson raised his arms so he could slide your panties down your legs. You kissed a trail down his chest before straddling him again. You reached down between you and positioned his cock so he could enter you, and you lowered on to him slowly, having to adjust to his size. “Fuck Ty,” you couldn’t help but breath out along the way. When you bottomed out, a shiver ran up your spine.

“Jesus, Hazel,” he breathed out. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

You knew he could barely move, and you knew you’d be the one putting in most of the work here, so you took a few more moments to adjust before you began rolling your hips back and forth slowly. Tyson watched and his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the visual.

You took your time getting into a rhythm, wanting this to last as long as it could. The last time, in Portofino, your body had been buzzed from being out in the sun all day. This time around, the both of you were exhausted, but that didn’t mean there was any less energy between you two, or any less love. You would do anything for Tyson, and Tyson would do anything for you. So you were taking it gently, and you were taking it slowly, but you knew it would feel just as good as Portofino did two years ago, just as perfect as it did then too, despite nothing happening since.

Tyson’s hands were placed firmly on your thighs at first, before they moved to your hips and followed your movements loosely. You placed your hands over his, intertwining your fingers slightly. “Y’okay, Ty?”

“You feel fucking incredible,” he whispered.

“You want me to take my top off?”

“Yes please.”

You giggled at his request of please. So polite. You could take the boy out of Canada, but you couldn’t take Canada out of the boy. You led his hands from your hips all the way up your body, dragging your shirt long with it, before he pulled it off entirely and tossed it to the side. Your breasts were exposed then, and all it took was the sight of them to give Tyson a burst of energy, moving to sit up. One arm wrapped around your waist to hold you down on his cock as he attacked your lips with his. He cupped your breast, which overflowed even in his big hands. You moaned into his kisses, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck again. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulder blades where you had been massaging earlier. “Ty…” you whispered out as he moved from your lips to your neck. “Ty, lie down. I got you. I told you I’d take care of you.”

“You’re so beautiful, Hazel.”

A shiver ran up your spine hearing those words. You pushed him back down before placing your hands on his chest for leverage as you began to roll your hips again. Your breathing got heavier; so did his. You savoured every moment of being on top of him, having his amazing body underneath you as you worked to pleasure the both of you. You were completely drunk on him, willing that this exact feeling could last forever.

Tyson had gotten more vocal the longer you two went on. Between the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of him inside you, he was close. It didn’t help that he’d gotten a head start during the massage. “You’re gonna make me come.”

You were desperate – you could admit that. You didn’t want it to end. He felt too good inside of you. You felt too connected to him to have it be over, regardless of how long you’d been riding him. You couldn’t even keep track or have any idea because you were so wrapped up in the feeling of him. “No,” you shook your head, biting your bottom lip. “No, not yet.”

Tyson couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “What?”

“Not yet,” you repeated more emphatically. “Want more. Need more.”

A shiver ran up his spine hearing those words. It took everything in him not to come then and there. Instead, he began to move his hips along with yours, and you could automatically feel the difference. Your moaning got louder. Tyson almost couldn’t take it. “You’re getting so deep, Ty.”

“Keep going, baby.”

You clenched when the words left his mouth. Your hips kept rolling, your clit rubbing against his body as his cock was hitting you so deep and at the perfect angle. After a while longer, you found yourself getting closer, as you were sure he was hitting your G-spot. “Ty…oh fuck Ty—I—I—”

You couldn’t say anything else as the most intense orgasm you’d ever felt washed over your entire body. Your entire body shook with pleasure – you could even feel it in your fucking toes. You had never felt anything like it before and oh my God, was it glorious. You swore you could see stars as you clenched around him, repeating his name over and over like a prayer. At some point, it was all too much for you, and you felt yourself collapsing on to him. Your breasts were between your bodies, pressing against him as he held you down with his arms. As he pumped in and out of you, you could feel his release too, his groans and how you felt full from him.

You felt empty when he slipped out of you, but you kissed him to make up for it, kiss after kiss after kiss. Were you being sappy? Both times this had ended up happening, it was truly spur of the moment. But during both times, there had been so much pent up energy between you that it could only culminate in something like this. And during both times, you didn’t want them to end. You knew you’d remember every detail.

In between kisses, you couldn’t help yourself. “Love you, Ty.”

“Love you too, Hazel,” he responded right after. It was only then that you heard the true fatigue in his voice.

He didn’t let go of you as you rolled off him and onto his side. You were both on your sides now, and he pulled you up against his chest. All of his muscles, tired and overused as they were, pressed into your back as he tucked his head against your shoulder. Before the fatigue finally consumed him, he placed a kiss on your shoulder; you brought his hand up and kissed it too, finally drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, Tyson could barely move. He’d need help getting out of bed. But that was typical. What really mattered wasn’t his pain or how stiff some of his joints were. What really mattered was that he was still in bed, with you, looking into your eyes. One of your hands was playing with his hair. One of his hands was drawing circles along the skin on your arm. You were both quiet. You were both in the moment, since you didn’t have to be anywhere else for a while.

“You’re career’s about to take off in ways we never would have thought,” you barely whispered. You wondered if the weight of what he had accomplished last night had finally hit him. “Are you gonna remember little ol’ me when you’re rich and famous?”

The smallest of smiles cracked on his lips. “Duh. You’re unforgettable.”

“A lot of things are gonna change you, and I want you to know that I think you deserve all the good things coming to you. Whatever they are,” you continued. “You know that, right?”

“I do,” he said. “But it’s not all about me. You’re going to do some pretty big things too. Stardom’s gonna shoot you to the moon because you deserve it. And what’s happening in California when you go back?”

“I’ve got a match with Candice, and a match with Bea Priestley again. Let’s hope I don’t walk out with another broken sternum.”

“You’re gonna knock both out of the park, because you always do. Then everybody’s gonna be clamouring for you. There’s going to be bidding wars over you,” he assured you. “You’re just as good as I am. If not better.”

“Oh stop,” you said, blushing and embarrassed at his words. You buried your face into the pillow so you didn’t have to look at him. You could feel him move, sticking his face into the crook of your neck as he kissed along it.

“I mean it, Haze,” he mumbled against your temple between kisses.

When you raised your head back up, he peppered your face with light pecks before giving you quick kisses on your lips. When you stopped kissing, you took in the silence between you. “Hey Tys…”

“Hmm?”

Your hand moved to caress his face along his beard. “I wasn’t—I didn’t just, like, blurt out the words last night and didn’t mean them,” you stuttered out. “I do love you. In my own way.”

“I know,” he said. “I meant what I said last night too. That I’m very happy you’re here. That I like you being here with me. And that I love you.”

“But you don’t…even after what happened in Portofino, we can’t do much more than this, can we?” you asked. Secret little love affairs. One-off passionate nights after emotionally charged moments that brought you closer together, closer than you ever thought you’d ever get with your mentor, your best friend, your person.

His heart broke. Again, he was ashamed because he couldn’t say anything out loud. He couldn’t let you know; it had to stay inside him. For his good and for your good. “It’s not the right time,” he said instead.

Your heart didn’t break. It had no reason to. He was right, but you didn’t want to admit it. “Not—not that anything would change but if—if—do you think it ever will be the right time in the future?”

He felt his stomach in knots. He answered with the only answer he could give.

“I don’t know.”

A few weeks later, when Matt and Nick were back in Japan, they would watch intently as Tyson was glued to his phone. They’d give each other a look that Tyson wouldn’t see, and then they’d go about their business, eating their ice cream or searching for directions to a coffee shop. But one night, after they walked into Tyson’s hotel room at the tail end of an hour-long phone call, Nick made the executive decision.

“Sorry. It was Hazel,” Tyson said once he hung up.

“Figured as much. You don’t talk to anyone else on the phone that long but us and her,” Nick smirked.

Tyson shrugged. “Yeah, well…”

“She doing okay?”

“She’s fine.”

“How was it when she was over here?” Matt piped in.

Tyson was avoiding eye contact. “It was nice,” he kept his answers simple. “Nice that I had someone here with me for winning the G1, you know.” Despite being some of his best friends, they didn’t know what had happened in Italy, and they weren’t going to know about what happened after the G1.

“Mmmhhhmmm,” Nick nodded. “Must’ve been.”

“Are you gonna tell her how you feel?” Matt asked, getting straight to the point. “She’s gottta know, Ty.”

Tyson shook his head. Those observant little fuckers. “No.”

Nick grimaced. “Why not?”

Tyson took a deep breath, sighing afterwards. “It’s just easier if she doesn’t. Even if it rips me apart.”

***

25th June 2023

you say, "i don't understand," and i say, "i know you don't" we thought a cure would come through in time, now, i fear it won't

You watched with tears in your eyes as the trainer attended to Tyson after his match with Will, going through concussion protocol and range of motion exercises to ensure everything was okay and that nothing was broken. Tyson sat their quietly, complying with everything, moving his shoulders and legs, blinking once and then twice, maintaining focus then following a light, stretching his neck back and forth and side to side. That was the most important exercise of all, after what had happened in the ring. After he didn’t tell you one of the most important spots in the match.

“Everything looks completely fine, Mr. Smith,” the head trainer said, finally, much to everybody’s relief. Everybody except you.

“God Ty, that Tiger Driver looked brutal,” Nick said. “Helluva spot, but brutal nonetheless.” Of course he would say that.

“I thought it looked incredible,” Matt pitched in. “If anybody could have done it and taken it correctly, it was you.” Of course he would say that.

“That’ll grab the headlines,” Christopher Daniels said. Of course he would say that.

“Leave the really big spots for a Canada, huh?” Stephen joked. Of course he would say that.

It was then that Tyson locked eyes with you – you, staying completely silent across the way of the room, though you knew by now your face was probably beet red with emotion. You had so much emotion stored inside of you, from the beginning of the match until now, and you didn’t know when it was going to burst. Forty minutes of your heart being in the pit of your stomach.

Tyson finally noticed.

“Can everyone just…” he began, sighing and trailing off before recollecting his thoughts. “Just give me a couple of minutes – alone, please,” he ordered, albeit politely. Everybody stood silent, awkwardly. “Now guys. Come on. Everyone out.”

You didn’t move, but everyone else did. When they were all out, and you were all alone with Tyson, that’s when all the emotion stored inside of you came out. One of your tsunamis. Now. Of all times it could happen.

“What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

His tone meant that the first few tears escaped. You shook your head vehemently. “No—no—no—”

“—Hazel—”

“—No—”

“Hazel, c’mere…c’mere,” he cooed. Even reluctantly, you went over to him, sitting across from him on the medical table. He grabbed your hands in his. You weren’t expecting that, but you were shaking, and he probably wanted to stop that. “What’s the matter?”

“Your neck, your neck,” you kept repeating through your tears.

“My neck is fine—”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing this fucking shit, Tyson?” you demanded, tears fully streaming down your face now. “Do you think I like seeing your body torn up by a cage? That I like seeing you be dropped on your fucking head? And by him?”

“Haze, I’m sor—”

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it this time!” you exclaimed, pulling your hands away from his. You wiped the tears from your eyes. “You’re Kenny fucking Omega. Your worst match is still ninety five percent better than everybody else’s best matches yet you still think you have to do this—this—this absolutely insane shit. For what? What’s it all for, Tyson? You’re already the best in the world. You’re already a legend.”

“I’m perfecting my craft, Hazel. You know that. We talk about it all the time. This is everything to me. I left my family, my friends – I moved to a foreign country and was fucking alone for years so I could be at the top. Every sacrifice I’ve made has been in the name of pro-wrestling because there can’t be a question about whether or not I’m the best. That’s it, Hazel. That’s it.”

You absorbed his words, each one of them hitting you like a dagger. You sat there silently, looking deep into his eyes. “Is that really all that matters to you? Is that it?”

You could see the look in his eyes. You could see the change in his face. He wanted to say something. He was so close to saying something. He was going to say something. But you couldn’t hear how he would respond to your question – at least not right now. The door handle being jerked loudly from the outside interrupted your conversation, and when you both looked the way of the door, you saw one person walking through it.

Will fucking Ospreay.

Okay, now you were livid.

“Don’t you know how to fucking knock?” you demanded, not caring how rude you sounded. You stood up from where you were sitting across from Tyson.

Will’s face scrunched up. “Who pissed in your cereal?”

“YOU!” you screamed. “You, you fucking idiot!”

“What the hell is wrong with you? I came in to see Tyson, not you—”

“Well you’re going to see me anyway!”

“Will you calm down—”

“—Do not tell me to calm down,” you warned. “What is it? Huh? You want to do the same thing to his neck that your ex-girlfriend did to mine?” Will’s brows furrowed with that rhetorical question. You didn’t even bother to wait for him to retort. You just kept going. “You know what, actually? This is a perfect opportunity. Finally you can see it in the flesh,” you turned around, gathered your hair in your hand, and lifted it up. Your scar was on full display for Will, who diverted his eyes the second he saw it. “Four screws, one rod, and sixteen staples fixed your girlfriend’s mistake. I should have suffocated and died in that ring and you didn’t even have the decency to check in on me. And you want to know why I’m so upset?”

Will clenched his jaw. “Listen, I’m sorry that happened, but—”

“You’re not sorry it happened,” you interrupted him. “You want me to believe you’re sorry when you were joking with your friends in the locker room in Vegas about how it would be much harder now to pick me up and drop me on my head?”

It was the first time during your spat that you saw Will’s face drop – that he looked legitimately taken aback, almost even frightened, by what you said. You had been stepping closer to him with every word, and had backed him up against the wall at this point. “It must be so empowering to be a man…that you can just exist and be you whereas a woman has to apologize for her existence,” you said. “If I ever hear that you’ve talked about me or my body again, I will kill you with my bare hands. I fucking hate your guts.”

“I can feel it,” was all he could reply with.

You took one final step closer, looking at him with all the venom in the world in your eyes. “You can hurt me, Will, and you already have, but if you hurt any one of my friends, it’s over for you, and I mean that entirely. I will fucking end you. That’s a promise.”

He stayed silent then, looking down at you, because there was nothing for him to say. You felt like kneeing him in the groin, but that would have been too much pleasure for one night after what you’d just said to him. It would have been an indulgence. As the words hung in the air, you backed up slightly before walking out of the room. Only then had you noticed the door had been held open by Matt, who was watching you intently as you made your exit.

***

Just knocked on your room door and you didn’t answer. Are you in the shower or something?

I went to the airport early Catching a red eye to Winnipeg

Hazel

Gonna spend some extra time with my mom

I need to talk to you

I know. I’m sorry I blew up at Will in your room. That wasn’t very nice of me and it put you in an awkward position of having to hear me yell seven years of pent up shit at him.

I couldn’t care less about that He deserved it

Am I still allowed to come to the cottage?

Obviously Hazel What makes you think you wouldn’t?

I don’t know The way I spoke to you

***

30th June 2023

all of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation my hands are shaking from holding back from you

You bought Timbits. It was the quintessential Canadian road trip item, and you couldn’t show up empty-handed, even though the drive to the cottage was only just over an hour. With your suitcase loaded in the trunk, you hauled the bag of groceries into the backseat. Tyson always insisted he had food, but protein bars and chocolate milk didn’t count. When you slipped into the front seat, you held them up near your face.

“You wanna make me fat?” he asked as he shut the door behind them. “Seriously, woman. I have a strict diet to maintain this body.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, right. I forgot about that. Your diet of energy drinks and Dave’s Doubles and junior cheeseburger deluxes is sooooo healthy.”

“You know it,” he winked. “What’s with all the food, by the way?”

“You never have food.”

“I have food!”

“I also may have watched The Bear with my mom.”

Tyson giggled. He put the gear in drive and signalled. “Yeah. That’ll do it. What’re you gonna make?”

“Scallopini al funghi,” you said, eyeing him. He stayed silent. “You know, like a chicken marsala.”

“Oh, you mean like from the Cheesecake Factory?”

You chopped him across the chest. As always he was overdramatic in his response, though he knew exactly what he was doing when he brought up the Cheesecake Factory. “You take that back right now, Tyson.”

“Man, you still got it,” he rubbed at his chest where you chopped him. “You been practicing without me or something?”

“Apologize!”

The smirk hadn’t left his face. “I’m sorry I brought up the Cheesecake Factory when you mentioned making a fancy shmancy Italian dish,” irony dripped with every word that came out of his mouth.

“Thank you,” you smiled just as ironically. “How was the rest of the time in Toronto?”

He shrugged. “Just the usual. Lots of media. Nothing out of the ordinary. I was able to go to a few places and get some gaming stuff, which was nice.”

You almost didn’t want to ask, but there was something in your chest that was making you. “How’s your neck?”

“Neck’s fine,” he said, looking over at you quickly. “And I’m not just saying that, okay?”

You nodded in understanding. “I’m excited for this, you know,” you tried to lighten the mood back to where it was. You didn’t want to talk about what had happened just yet. It was the first time seeing Tyson in almost five days and you wanted to see him smile. “I can’t wait to do a 630 splash off the dock. The water will be warm, right?”

“We’ll see,” he said. “I’m excited, too. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

***

Groceries were put away. Scallopini were made. Dishes were put in the dishwasher.

And then…

“BAH GAWD ALMIGHTY!” you could hear Tyson scream in a bang-on Jim Ross impression before you hit the water. The cold temperature hit your skin like icicles, but you knew it would be only momentary. You swam a bit underwater before you emerged back up, hearing Tyson finishing his yelling. “Somebody stop the damn match! That man has a family!”

You watched as he got a running start and completed a flawless tope con hilo from the edge of his dock right into the water. You began to backstroke so you could get further into the lake as you watched him come up for air. “Show off!” you yelled at him, a smile on your face.

He smiled and shook his head. He began swimming over to you. “I do that all the time!” he called out after you. When he caught up to you, easily, he could see the playful scowl on your face.

“Now you’re just bragging,” you said. You turned away from him and looked out onto the lake. Streaks covered the sky, the sunset starting showing its beauty over the lake. Whenever you came here with Tyson – not that it was often, but whenever it did happen – you always managed to get a beautiful sunset. You didn’t know if it was the time of year, or the weather, or some other force of nature you had no power over. Regardless, you were very lucky. You could feel him behind you. “You get the best sunsets out here,” you commented, your voice no longer yelling.

“I know,” he said.

You were both quiet for quite a while, just letting the sound of the waves take precedent. The lake wasn’t particularly lively – at least not at this time of day – but there were some boats still driving around the lake, some families down the coast clearly having their own Canada Day weekend celebrations. You treaded water easily to stay afloat, but the cold water wasn’t getting any warmer. You plugged your nose and dunked your head into the water to see if it would help, but when you came back up, it hadn’t. “Think the water will be warmer tomorrow?”

“Just dunk your head a few more times,” Tyson suggested playfully. You chuckled, but what you weren’t expecting was to feel his giant hand atop your head. “Tyson!” you screamed, because you knew exactly what he was going to do.

It didn’t stop him. He pushed you down and dunked you into the water. He let you come back up quickly, but by the time you caught your breath, he pushed you back down again. It was like he was baptizing you, for heaven’s sake. Under the water, you kicked and punched at him. If you were being honest, you were aiming for his dick, but when you were above water once more catching your breath, he wasn’t grovelling in pain, so it meant you missed.

“You asshole!” you half-yelled, half-giggled. “You are seriously the worst, Tyson Smith.”

“Wow, using my full name?”

“You deserve it.”

“Nobody ever deserves that. You were the one trying to hit me.”

“I was trying to punch your dick.”

“You were what?!” his voice raised three octaves. “Hazel Ila—”

“—do not say my middle name—”

“—Ilaaarrrrria,” Tyson put on an extremely strong and dramatic Italian accent.

Big mistake. You splashed a ton of water into his face, discombobulating him. You couldn’t help but laugh as you kept splashing him, getting closer to him with each one. When you were close enough, and with whatever vision he had left with tons of lake water flooding his eyes, he reached out and grabbed your arm to stop you. He pulled you into his body, holding you against him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“You really are a jezebel, eh?” he said, using one hand to wipe the water off his eyes.

“I always knew you stealing my passport in Japan would come back to haunt me one day,” you said.

“You’re lucky I’ve never told anyone. Do you have any idea how long and hard Austin has begged?”

You both giggled. Then silence. You were close.

Tyson kissed you. He leaned his head forward and in one swift movement he kissed you. You kissed him back for as long as you could. It had been seven years. Tyson kissed you for as long as he could before he realized what he was doing and pulled away, turning his head to the side. “Fucksorry—sorry—” he began mumbling and apologizing quickly.

“—It’s okay—”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry Haz—”

“—Tys, it’s alright. It’s okay.”

Your hands were cradling his face by this point, and despite his tone and his apologies you continued to look deep into each other’s eyes. You wondered what was next. You always wondered what was next with Tyson. You could feel lightning running through you, running deep in your damn bones. And when you were sure Tyson would lean in again, a scream across the lake broke the moment. You both whipped your heads to see a boat pass by, teenagers hanging on to a tube with every inch of their life responsible for the screaming. The both of you watched as it sped across the lake, taking your moment with it.

“You’re shivering,” Tyson finally said, filling the silence.

Considering your body was pressed up to his, you weren’t surprised he felt something. But considering what had just happened, you hadn’t even noticed yourself. “Guess I’m not used to the water just yet.”

“Let’s go inside.”

“No no, if you want to stay out we can stay out.”

“No way,” he shook his head. “I’m not gonna make you stay out here shivering. We’ll come back out tomorrow when the sun’s out.”

You made your way inside. Tyson gave you space to change into comfortable clothes, and you went into the master bathroom to do something with your hair. It would inevitably develop a curl, so you decided to brush through it and try to calm your bangs as much as possible before tying it back into a French braid. The electricity that was in your body hadn’t left, and the moment between you and Tyson in the lake kept playing in your mind. His blue eyes. His stupid little giggle. His voice raising three octaves. You tried breathing in and out, tried thinking of something else, but nothing could get rid of the electricity or the thoughts.

When you made your way back out, Tyson was already in the kitchen putting a bag of popcorn into the microwave. When he saw you, he couldn’t help but smile.

You noticed right away. You thought you looked like a witch. “What?” you asked him. “Gosh, I bet my hair looks awful after the lake water,” you grimaced, playing with your bangs and pulling them down to frame your face at least somewhat.

“Nah,” Tyson said softly. “You look beautiful.”

The electricity that never left had just been amped up to a higher voltage. It was the electricity that made you act; the second you were close to him in the kitchen, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him, a reciprocal from what happened in the lake. He immediately kissed back, his arms wrapping around your waist. His hands went to your ass and he lifted you in his arms and set you down on the countertop, getting in between your legs. But when you tried slipping your tongue in his mouth, he pulled away. As if he were ashamed. “Shitshitshit…” he muttered.

“Ty—”

“—I can’t do this.”

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. “Why not?”

He was breathing heavily. He shook his head. “I can’t—I promised myself I couldn’t do anything until we talked about what happened in Toronto, and I’ve already broken that promise.”

Your sanity somewhat recovered. “Can I ask you something first?”

“What’s that?”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s gonna happen in the ring anymore?”

Tyson paused. He knew he’d have to answer for that one day, and it was apparently going to be now. He knew they wouldn’t be able to have this conversation without his answer. “I see how worked up you get, and how much it affects you and gets you worried. I don’t want to put you in that position to, you know, worry about me.”

He was such an idiot. Literally the dumbest boy alive. You brought your hands up, your thumbs rubbing over the stubble of his beard. “You’d think by now you’d realize it’s been having the opposite effect,” you said. “When I told you that it’s getting harder and harder for me to watch your more hardcore stuff I meant it. Leaving me in the dark is just doing more harm. I’d rather know about it. I’d rather be prepared. It would make me less nervous for what’s coming.”

“But I can’t stand to see you cry,” he whispered. “Every time I do I know it’s because of me and I can’t handle it.”

“Please, Ty. Just tell me,” you said, pausing afterwards. “What are you gonna do at Blood and Guts?”

Fuck. You could see Tyson visibly grimace, his eyes fluttering closed. “There’s gonna be thumbtacks,” he began. Your stomach was already in knots. “And uh, there’s this thing…it’s a nail bed—”

“—a nail bed?!—”

“—and I’m going to take a body slam on to it.”

Your tears began almost instantaneously. “Tyson—”

“—I know, I know—”

“Tyson,” you buried your head into the crook of his neck, resting it on his shoulder. “Tyson, please,” you were desperate, desperate for him to listen to you.

“Hazel, Hazel, don’t cry,” he cooed, rubbing your back. “It’s gonna be okay. Look at me, look at me,” he gently pulled away before placing a finger underneath your chin so you could look at him. “You’re breaking my heart by making me see you cry.”

“I hope I am!” you said with more emphasis than normal. “I get that you want to be the master of your craft but this isn’t it. Say you’re injured. Say you can’t do it. Please. I don’t want to see you ripped to shreds.”

“Hazel,” you could hear the heaviness in his voice, “you know as well as I do I can’t be the only guy not taking a spot during the match.”

You knew that, but your judgement was clouded right now. If you had your way, none of the guys would be taking any spots on any damn nail bed, but it wasn’t like you could control these things. You wished you could. You knew you would have to suffer through it and there was nothing you could do about it. You knew it would result in waiting for him to return to gorilla afterwards and having to see him aching. You knew you’d be in the locker room with him as he got patched up, holding everything in (or, maybe this time, you’d let everything out, in front of everyone).

You sighed, feeling Tyson wipe away the tears that had fallen from your eyes with the pads of his thumbs. “You’re so adamant about this. Why?” he asked.

“Because I’m selfish, Tyson. I want you around for a very long time. I’m selfish and I want you with me for a very long time.”

You finally verbalized, praying to God that it would finally get through to him as to why you were the way you were. He looked into your eyes for any hint of uncertainty or ambiguity, but there wasn’t any. “Hazel…”

“Don’t you want the same?”

You watched as he gulped, and you could feel his hands grab yours and hold them gently in his. “You know before Will came in…and you asked me ‘Is that really all that matters to you? Is that it?’ when we were alone in my room?” he asked.

“Yeah…”

“I didn’t get to…what I wanted to say was…” he trailed off. “You matter to me, Hazel, a lot. You’ve mattered to me for years. I just—I should have—back in Portofino, and back in Japan, I should have said something, and I didn’t because I was too focused on wrestling, too focused on being the best. And I thought I was old, and there you were, and you were so young and so good, and I just couldn’t do that to you. But you do matter to me Hazel. You do. More than anyone.”

“Tell me what you want, Ty,” you were desperate to hear the words.

“I want it to be the right time.”

Memories of your time in bed together after the G1 Climax in Tokyo together flooded your mind like a tsunami. You felt a shiver run up your spine, the electricity from deep within you igniting again. You nodded slightly. “It is the right time,” you assured him.

He kissed you again, just like he did in the lake earlier, and you responded right away to the feeling of his lips on yours. Your hands escaped his hold so you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders; his own arms wrapping around your waist. You sat there on the counter with Tyson between your legs for what felt like hours, the taste of him so intoxicating you were running out of breath. You didn’t know how to describe his kisses any other way except full – full of emotion, of passion, of love, of seven years of waiting and all the pent-up feelings that came with that. So you took every moment and cherished it, burning it into the back of your mind. Every feel of his curls as you ran your hands through them, every feel of the stubble of his beard rubbing against the bare skin of your face and your neck, every feel of his muscles tightening the more you squeezed your legs around his torso to bring his body even closer to yours.

You found your hands creeping underneath his shirt, his skin of his back so delicate underneath your fingertips. He still had some scratches on his back from the cage match with Jon, and the scar from the gash he got at the G1 Climax tournament in 2016.

Tyson pulled away slightly, quickly. “Do you still feel safest with me?” he asked.

You nodded quickly. “Yes, God yes,” you rushed so your lips could be back on his. “Always, Ty.”

His kisses travelled to your neck and clavicle. His hands were squeezing at your thighs. You were sure he was going to leave a mark somewhere, his kisses and bites becoming insatiable. You were sure your breaths and moans were only fuelling him, but you knew you wanted more. The slight impatience got the best of you. You grabbed his hands before widening your legs. “Touch me Ty,” you breathed out, placing his hand on your hot core over your leggings. “I want you to touch me.”

That apparently flipped a switch in him, because he picked you up in one swoop and began carrying you through the cottage until he got to his bedroom, setting you down on the bed. “Touch me, touch me,” you begged absent-mindedly, so desperate to feel him that you pulled off his shirt.

His hand finally went where you wanted it to go. Your hips immediately bucked at his touch, even though it was above fabric. He moved his body to hover over yours as he did so, making sure he could keep eye contact you and watch all your reactions as he did what you wanted him to do. “Does that feel good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“You gonna let me taste you?”

Your breath got caught in your throat. You wanted it, you wanted it so bad, but the possibility of it actually happening made you slip up. He obviously hadn’t done it previously, with the two of you being the way you were getting in the way of it happening in Portofino and Tokyo. “Y-Yeah,” you stuttered out, nodding.

Tyson gave you a few more kisses as his fingers drew circles and ran up and down the fabric over your core before he pushed himself back on his knees. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your tights before pulling them off in one full swoop. Next, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulled them off too, exposing your whole bottom half. He could hear your intake of breath, could see how you were watching his every move. “You okay?”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled out. “Just nerves.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why are you nervous?”

“I don’t know. Just am,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he moved over your body to kiss you. “I want to make you feel good, but if you’re nervous, I don’t have to.”

“No no, I really want you to.”

The two of you couldn’t help but giggle at your response, Tyson kissing you again – quick, little kisses on your lips – before pulling away. “Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay? I’ll stop the second you want me to.”

You nodded in agreement. Not that you’d have to tell him to stop. If he was going to go down on you, there was no way in hell you’d ask him to stop. There wasn’t a force on God’s green earth that would make you ask him to stop. You closed your eyes as Tyson began slowly kissing his way down your body, pulling up your shirt to just underneath your breasts so he could kiss your soft tummy, dragging his tongue and lips along your skin before he got below your belly button. His hands went to your thighs, spreading your legs apart for him.

“You’re so beautiful, Hazel.”

A warmth washed over your body at the words. You watched as he got between your legs, bringing his finger up to feel you. You flinched slightly, already so sensitive. You could see a smirk on Tyson’s face as he brought an arm around to keep your keep your hips down.

There was no precursor for Tyson – no tentative licks or little flicks of the tongue first to ease you into it. He just went right in. He’d waited long enough. It made your jaw drop, a mewl leaving your mouth almost instantly. And he didn’t stop from there. He lapped at you like you were his last meal on earth the entire time he was down there, making you bunch the bed sheets into your fists, your knuckles white. As your moans got louder, you couldn’t help but start writhing in bed. But his arm across your hips was limiting your ability to move, which just made it all the better. You reached down to grab on to some of his curls. He looked up at you with his blue eyes and you almost came right then and there.

“You alright?” he asked quickly.

You nodded. “I’m almost embarrassed to tell you how long I’ve dreamt of you doing this to me.”

You watched as the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Am I better or worse than your little fantasies?”

“Better,” you said automatically. “So much better.”

The vibration from his proud little chuckle just made the experience even more pleasurable. After a short while, you could feel a warmth take over your body, and you knew you were close. You verbalized this to Tyson, who kept doing what he was doing and didn’t change his rhythm at all – thank God. Eventually, you felt your orgasm overcome you, your body writhing at the feeling. You tried to stop your legs from coming together and squeezing Tyson’s head between your thighs, but he didn’t seem to mind when you couldn’t control it anymore. He moved in tune with each buck of the hips, each squirm, never taking his mouth off your pussy, even for a second.

When your orgasm subsided, and you tried to catch your breath after all the moaning and calling out of his name, Tyson kissed the inside of your thighs before moving back up your body. You were desperate to kiss him and crashed your lips onto his when he was close enough. “So sweet,” he mumbled against your lips.

“Christ almighty, Ty.”

He continued kissing you, slow and steady and full just like before, moving to pull your top off. You played with the waistband of his sweatpants for a bit, just to tease him, before pushing them and his underwear down all in one go. You could feel how hard he was then, his cock resting between you. “What other little fantasies have you had about me?” he asked.

You were not prepared for that question. And you were not prepared for having to think about answering as he was kissing his way down your chest. “How much time do we have?” you tried to joke.

“Tell me,” his voice was firm, right before he took a nipple into his mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of it all, Ty,” you admitted, closing your eyes to savour the feeling of what he was doing. “I’ve been dreaming about you since I was, like, twenty-one. That’s a lot of time. What about you?”

He stopped what he was doing, coming back up and bringing one of his hands up to move some hair out of your face. “D’you know how many times I’ve replayed Portofino and Tokyo in my head?” he asked.

So you weren’t the only one. What a feeling it was to know. “Yeah?”

“When we fell between the two beds…” he began, his thumb gliding over your lips. “You don’t forget things like that.”

You nodded because you understood. You had never forgotten that moment either, mostly because it was one of the few moments in your life when you felt pure, genuine happiness. “I love you, Tyson.”

He kissed you. “I love you too, Hazel.”

You kissed each other for a while again, your nails digging into the skin on his arms and back. It was only when he was biting down at the skin near your collarbone that he spoke again. “Will you let me make love to you?”

“No.”

Tyson stopped everything. He looked up at you. “No?”

“I know you can go harder than that,” you said. “I haven’t felt you in seven years, Ty. I need it.”

He was like a man possessed after you said those words, his hands and lips all over you with zero abandon. In one swift movement, he grabbed onto your hips and flipped you over on to your stomach. You got excited at the new position. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“You bet,” the excited grin grew on your face as you got on our hand and knees.

You positioned yourself and purposely crashed your ass into his hips, causing a groan to escape him before you could feel his hand between your bodies, stroking himself several times before using his head to tease your pussy. You gripped onto the sheets, arching your back and biting your lip. When he finally pushed inside you, you let out a cry. He felt just as good as you remembered, if not better. “Jesus fuck, Ty,” you couldn’t help but swear as you felt him fully in you. He was giving you a few moments – you knew that – but you were so desperate to feel him pump in and out of you that you almost resented the fact he wasn’t moving yet. “Fuck me, Tyson. It’s been seven years. Let me feel all of you.”

With every thrust, you could feel every inch of your body igniting on fire. His moans and grunts, the way his hands were gripping on to your hips, the movement of your bodies, the song of the sounds you were making – it all came together in the most pleasurable experience. You got louder and louder as he pounded into you just as you wanted. “God Ty, you feel so fucking good,” you said, flipping your hair over your shoulder to be able to look at him.

“Was this one of your little fantasies too?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

You sighed out, unable to form coherent thoughts. You knew this was only the beginning of the night. If you knew Tyson – and you did – he’d be asking you about all of them, and you wouldn’t be able to get out of it. Not that you wanted to. “We were doing exactly this, but…”

“But?”

“But you pulled me up by my hair,” you said.

To your surprise, you could feel him wrap some of your hair around his hand before tugging on it and pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. He was gentle but still purposeful with his movements, knowing what he was doing to you. “Then what?”

You gulped. He had slowed his pace moving in and out of you, but the way you were positioned already made it feel so good. Your body shivered at what it would feel like when he lost all control. “You…you had one hand here to hold me up,” you said, grabbing on to his left hand and putting it at the base of your neck. “Just don’t squeeze,” you added quickly.

“I won’t,” he gave you a quick kiss on your shoulder. “What else?”

“Your…your other hand was here,” you grabbed on to his right hand, placing it on your pussy so his fingers were directly on your clit. “You were fucking me so good I was seeing stars, Ty. I woke up and started touching myself.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Was there anything else?”

You nodded. You took another deep breath. “You were…you were leaving marks,” you admitted. “All here…and here…” your hand moved over your neck and shoulders on both sides before settling back on top of his hand that was on the base of your neck. “When I woke up, after I touched myself, I went to the mirror to see if the marks were real. I was so sad I didn’t have them.”

Tyson’s lips began kissing at your neck and shoulder. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

“Yes please.”

Tyson’s lips went back to your neck and you could immediately feel him sucking at the skin there, no doubt leaving one of the marks you so wanted. Without warning, he began pumping harder and quicker too, building up a rhythm that hit the most perfect spot in you and made you cry out in pleasure over and over again. His fingers began massaging your clit, too, and it all truly felt like a dream, a dream you had dreamed for seven, eight, nine – maybe ten years now.

You could feel your throat dry up from how long Tyson had been fucking you. You knew you were close to your second orgasm of the night – but it definitely wouldn’t be the last. “Harder, Ty. I’m so close.”

You cried out when you felt just how hard he started to go, and soon enough, you saw those stars you had once dreamed of. The feeling was so intense, and just like the previous times with Tyson, you could feel the pleasure rush through your body from your head all the way to your toes, and down deep in your bones. He was still holding you up, but you felt yourself collapsing, on account of your legs feeling like complete jelly. But then you heard Tyson moan and felt him come inside you, and another rush coursed through your body – so intense that you had to put your hand over his and get him to stop teasing your clit or else you were sure you would explode and cease to exist. Whatever you had ever dreamed previously wasn’t as good as this – it was impossible to compare.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You hung on to every last feeling of your orgasm until it passed, slowly. “Shit,” you could hear Tyson curse behind you, his head still on your shoulder. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”

“God, Ty,” you breathed out. His one hand left your neck, and the other hand left your pussy, and when they did, you felt yourself collapse onto the bed. Apparently your legs were still non-functioning. You began to giggle at just how fucked out you were, shifting yourself over to your back.

Tyson smiled too, albeit nervously. “I don’t know if giggling is the best reaction here.”

“It’s a good thing,” you let out as he sunk down beside you. You turned your head to look at him, so he could see it in your eyes. “Trust me.”

Tyson giggled too then. “I’ll take it.”

“You’re gonna have to start getting used to it. Especially tonight,” you said. You rolled yourself on top of his chest, looking down on his face. “I mean, I’ve had so many other little fantasies…”

“Baby, I’m just getting warmed up.”

***

19th July 2023

and if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow and it's alright now

The nail bed wasn’t supposed to fall down Tyson’s back and arms, but of course Tyson couldn’t take the spot lightly. And because Tyson couldn’t ever take a spot lightly, his back was now all scratched, gashes and little holes down his entire left side – the same side you’d had to bandage and put ointment on just seven weeks ago. At least there were no thumbtacks.

Once he had finished pulling said thumbtacks out of Kota’s back, he hauled himself onto a training table and a trainer began assisting him. Cotton swabs, disinfectant – there was even a stitching kit ready to go. Matt was on the phone with Dana, Nick was Facetiming with Ellen, and Kota was in his own world. It was a good a time as ever to stand next to Tyson.

You weren’t crying this time. This was already a huge success.

The trainer had cleaned his hands first, bloody from the wreckage in the ring. You watched as the trainer wiped away the blood on his face, disinfecting the area and making him wince. When the trainer moved to his back, Tyson looked at you.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “I’m not crying, so we’re leaps and bounds better than where we were several weeks ago.”

“Does it look bad?”

“It looks like you got into a fight with a bear at the cottage. But somehow, you won the fight.”

Tyson’s laugh was interrupted by a wince. It was obvious the trainer was disinfecting an area. He grabbed onto your hands, squeezing them at the next sting. You squeezed back. “I love you,” he said quietly.

“I love you too.”

As quick as a lightning flash, he brought your hands up to his lips to kiss them. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Matt watching, his eyes bulging out of their sockets with his eyebrows raised in shock. When he saw you looking at him, he smirked and mouthed only one word to you. Finally.

Everything was okay. Everything was alright.

#kenny omega #aew #kenny omega imagine #kenny omega fic #kenny omega fan fic #kenny omega x reader #aew imagine #aew fic #aew fan fic #kenny omega x oc #kenny omega x ofc #kenny omega x original character #kenny omega x original female character

191 notes · View notes

majesticwren · 7 months

Text

this took me weeks to complete. I am now exhausted. don't come at me, it might be poorly executed. it is 10k of plotless, self-indulging, poly smut and I am not ashamed, thank you, bye. it is a stand-alone one-shot for now but there might be more coming, I am not done with Fletch and Will at the moment I'm afraid. I'm unhinged. edit: it now has a part II and a part III a/n: hi :) me again back at it. I didn't like the first draft of this so I finally went back in and made it a little extra poly/gay with some more chemistry between kyle and will because I needed it. thank you bye 💕

Trigger Warning/s: threesome, smut, poly, unprotected sex (kids, don't follow the fics exaples), everyone is a little bit top and a little bit bottom, a whole lot of consent, chocking, swearing, everyone has a praise kink :)

part II -> | part III -> prequel part I -> | part II -> | part III -> | part IV -> Masterlist

The apartment was now quiet save it for some still playing background music and some low chattering of the last remaining people. The party just ended was to be considered a success, but it had finally died out. However, none of the three remaining seemed to be overly worried about the time or the tidying up just yet.

“One of you should be dancing with me,” Erika teased, only pretending not to be paying any attention to the two boys sitting on the floor just a few feet from her.

“Why?” Kyle stretched his long arms across the edge of the sofa he was leaning on, “The view is so much better from here.” The way he looked at her, with his chin slightly raised, lips bent in a satisfied smile and pale eyes twinkling with a not-so-hidden desire somehow reminded her of something forbidden. A shiver crossed her spine, only prompting Kyle to wink at her.

That’s how it had been between them forever. Endless flirting. Endless teasing. The way she felt for him always made her feel like she could do anything. He was her home. For him she would have fought the world, heck she would have broken it in half if needed. It was a strong feeling nesting into her chest and stomach, always feeding her with extreme confidence.

“And what about you?” She wondered as her eyes slid on the man sprawled on the carpet next to Kyle.

His head rested on the sofa as he lazily looked at her. A small, confident but dumb smile crossed his lips. He didn’t seem at all bothered to be looking with interest at someone else’s woman. On the contrary, she would have bet he was intrigued. She dared a cheeky smile, hoping it would be enough to fish his interest.

“Yeah, Billy,” Kyle started, leaning closer to him, though none of the two lifted their eyes from her, which prompted her to keep dancing under their eyes. “What do you think, mate?”

“I think she is gorgeous, bruv.” Will raised his bottle of beer first to her and then to Kyle, who clinked his bottle with it. “And she knows it all too well,” They both chuckled.

“If you are both so smitten by me, why am I all alone here?”

Both the guys smiled widely, but it was Kyle who pushed himself forward. “Why don’t you come chill here with us instead?” He even offered her a helping hand.

As soon as he got a hold of her, Kyle pulled her down on his lap.

The moment she realised she may have just fallen into his carefully woven trap was too late. She thought she was the one trying to tempt and tease them, but she was wrong. She wasn’t the only one fishing, clearly. And now she was in the wolves’ den. Not that she had anything against it, of course.

“You think you are so smart, Fletch?” She wondered crossing her fingers behind his neck and hanging off his shoulders.

His smile grew cocky. “I got you, don’t I?”

“That you do.” She bit her lower lip trying to hide a smile as she grabbed his bottle of beer off his hand, stealing a sip.

With his now free hands, Kyle loosely wrapped an arm around her waist and with the other he fixed a strand of her hair behind her ear, studying her features with the sweetest look.

Sometimes Erika found herself so used to being by his side she would be immune to his prettiness. Other times his charm hit her so violently it made her stupid. And feral. Somehow, it made her want to smother and bite him. Not violently. Only to nibble on his cheeks, down his jawline, following his neck.

Her mouth was watering.

They looked into each other's eyes for a long couple of seconds. No words needed to be said to express the feelings connecting them. Erika was an open book to him, and Kyle had accepted for a long time to share his heart with her. Sometimes they pretended it didn't matter. Erika was used to replying “whatever” anytime he said he loved her. They brushed their love off like it was a joke. But they both knew it was endgame.

Will, next to them, finished up his beer in one single gulp and then he moved. “Right,” he began, “I better be on my way. Thanks for the party, bruv,” Will landed a heavy hand on Kyle's shoulder, giving him a strong shake, though his attention slipped on Erika, “You lucky bastard.”

His deep hoarse voice and thick British accent brushed on her skin. She felt it just as she felt his eyes burning on her. And she did nothing to stop it.

She liked Will. Always had.

He had been a good friend to her, but especially to Kyle and her brother Mark. Effectively, Will had led them through their leap into pro wrestling and she would have always been grateful to him for making the dream of the two people she cared about the most in the world become reality.

But now it wasn't only polite gratefulness or kindness that pulled her towards him anymore. She wanted his attention. There had been some harmless flirting between Kyle, her and Will for some time now. And it just made her hungrier and hungrier for something she never had before. A real craving she felt in her stomach and under her skin for something prohibited and so damn sweet.

She turned over facing Will, still hanging onto Kyle. Her smile was a tempting curve that only grew when she stole the glance Will was sending at Kyle’s lips. “Why are you leaving so early?” She wondered, purring softly, “We aren't done.”

“You two might not be-”

“Don’t be a party pooper,” Erika wined, cutting through his words, “Stay a little longer. Do it for me,” she then poked Kyle’s chin, “Kyle gets so upset when you aren’t around. Don’t you baby?”

Will smiled softly, his unfocused eyes jumping from one to the other. “God,” a chuckle cut through his breath, “how do you manage to ever contradict her?”

“I never do.” Explained Kyle simply, “She gets everything she wants.”

“I bet she does,”

“And I do get upset when you aren’t around,” now it was Kyle who was purring, sending Will a just as tempting look. His free hand dared to venture on Will’s knee as the Aussie synched with Erika’s intentions without needing her to speak a word.

Will held his breath, looking dazed for a moment as he looked at Kyle. However, his hesitation quickly melted away, leaving space for a warmer curiosity.

Will’s mile widened from amused to teasing. “And what do you suggest we do then, loves?” His attention lazily dragged back to Erika.

She had a few ideas in mind. A cheeky smile popped on her face, making her blushing cheeks pop.

“Well,” Erika played with Kyle’s shirt collar, pretending to be distracted and not at all with an end goal to reach. “We could play truth or dare.”

“What, like bloody teenagers?”

She nodded hopefully, “Yeah. It’s still fun.”

Both Will and Kyle exchanged a quick look. There was a silent interaction between the two, to which Kyle simply shrugged, prompting Will to chuckle. “Why don’t you just ask me something you want to know?” He wondered looking back at her. “Or tell me something you’d like me to do. To you or to Kyle.”

The way he looked at her made her stomach tremble even more than his words.

“Ok,” Erika exchanged a quick complicit look with Kyle, before turning to Will once again, this time she dared to slide a hand on his leg, just above where Kyle rested his. “Do you like me, Will?” Her smile was now a weapon. Erika brushed her hand on Will’s strong thigh and would have stopped anytime if he had hinted at her to do so. But he didn't.

If her words hadn't been clear, the dark desire sparkling in her eyes should have been hint enough. Will awkwardly hesitated turning over to Kyle.

In response, Kyle shrugged, “Don't look at me, mate. She asked you a question.” He had a cocky, proud smile printed on his lips as he directed Will’s attention back to her.

Kyle was always her partner in crime. That was what he had signed up for. She was a wild card, always been since the day they met. There was no stopping her when she put her head on something. And he was always ready to support her. No need to keep secrets from him. No need to lie. She had her fill and learned her lesson when she almost lost him for good at the beginning of their relationship and then promised “never again”. And had never once let her down. Kyle was always in her corner, willing to give her anything she wanted. And now they were both looking at what she wanted. What they both wanted.

“C’mon mate, don't leave the lady hanging,” Kyle continued.

Will’s eyes fell on their hands on his leg first and then he finally seemed to gather enough courage to look back at her. “I do,” a small smile finally broke on his lips. He hadn’t entirely defrosted yet, but he was surely game.

“And,” she gently propped Kyle’s chin so he’d move to face Will, “Do you like my pretty boyfriend, Willy?” She pressed her hungry smile on Kyle’s temple, waiting to see Will’s attention move on the Aussie’s face.

When it did, Erika ate up the way Will studied Kyle’s features. She watched avidly as his big eyes eventually landed on her boyfriend’s full lips.

“I do,” he finally admitted. Not that it was news to anyone. Kyle still offered a massive victorious smile, blushing ever so sweetly.

“So, I could dare you to do anything,” Erika looked at both boys biting on her lower lip.

“It all depends on how far you are willing to go, love.” Will teased her following with a quick wink.

Erika was shaken by a heat wave that crossed her skin, into her flesh, gathering through her body just to nest into her abdomen. What has been a fantasy for years was becoming reality all too quickly.

She licked her lips, “I don’t know,” she didn’t lift her eyes from Will as she slid her hands over Kyle’s chest, playing with his shirt. Black was a colour that suited him so well. Not quite as good as green though. “How does all the way sound to you?”

Will’s attention moved on Kyle. He was serious now. “Are you fine with this, bruv?”

The Aussie met him with a cocky, compliant smirk. He hadn’t lifted his attention from Erika. On the contrary, if possible, his pride and affection seemed only to increase. “She does what she wants, mate. I don’t control her.” His eyes crossed her figure, “But I do enjoy the ride.” Once again, Kyle stretched on the sofa, opening his arms up, implying the freedom she had. “And if the ride involves you, that’s just the cherry.”

This time it was the Brit who blushed. The way Kyle winked at Will, meaning all the things always hidden in between their shameless flirting, made Erika’s chest tremble with anticipation.

Erika's attention slid back to Kyle. She melted into a soft smile. Gratitude and affection poured out of her gaze, right into his. She relaxed, sitting back on his thighs as her hands raised confidently across Kyle's neck and to his face. Erika cupped his cheeks and pulled him closer. Kyle was hanging into her touch and welcomed her kiss with a smile. He slid his big hands distractedly over her thighs, establishing contact but still not caging her into a hug.

This time Will looked at them closely. He was still slightly awkward, but his gaze burned with interest that he didn't bother to hide anymore.

Erika let go of Kyle only to turn back to Will, meeting his focused gaze with a teasing smile. Just because she liked to play under his attention, she licked her lips, tasting Kyle's kiss.

“Kiss me.” She finally said, inviting him to move closer.

Before he even dared to breathe, Will looked back at Kyle to check his reaction, only to find complete relaxation from the Aussie. Kyle was still smiling and just nodded at the Brit, laying back on the edge of the sofa. Now, he was the one watching.

Will was still hesitant in the way he crawled closer to her, though she was ready to catch him. Erika slid a hand on his chest, enjoying pressing her palm against his solid flesh. It was the first time she was directly touching him to feel him and they all seemed to react to it. She moved softly, never breaking eye contact with him, somehow afraid she would scare him away. Erika brushed her palm up to the collar of his tee, her fingers toyed with the feeling of its material for a moment before she decided to keep moving up and around the solid column of his neck.

Will didn't oppose her.

He may be frozen into hesitation, with his breath shaking and all, but it didn't mean he didn't want it. She could see it in his eyes.

Erika pulled him closer. Her hand moved to his jaw. “Hey,” she whispered, the closest she had ever been to his lips. Their noses were touching.

“Hey,” he replied just as softly.

For a second it was only them.

Erika smiled. She tasted his breath on her tongue and shivered in anticipation. Her body ached under the need to be touched, even when Will didn’t seem comfortable enough with that just yet.

She was done waiting. She had decided she needed to take things into her own hands and be the one breaking that last small distance between them. So, she did, sealing it with a kiss. It was soft at first, she wanted to leave him the chance to back off. Will barely reacted as they both took a moment to feel each other's lips. She let them all get acquainted with that new dynamic all the while just enjoying feeling Will’s full lips pressed on hers.

The desire Erika was feeling was undiscovered ground. There was something ravaging in the idea of wanting a man. Another man. Feeling her interest in Will becoming not so dormant anymore and rising, taking over her. But it wasn’t only about Will. It was also being aware that her own man was watching it happen. She wasn’t alone, Kyle was part of it and the freedom and trust he was offering her made her feel all-powerful.

Just after a good second into that timid, tepid contact, Will seemed to finally defrost. He inhaled deeply her scent and moved forward, embracing her. He grabbed her side, filling his palm up with the material of her top as he clawed at her soft hip. His fingers dug into her flesh as he pulled her closer.

To the brush of his tongue over her lips, Erika felt her stomach tremble and she was more than happy to oblige. As soon as their tongues crossed, she released a soft sigh. She crossed her arm around his wide shoulders, curiously sliding her fingers into his curly hair. Will’s flavour went straight to her head, whereas for their kiss, she felt it in her lower abdomen.

Her other hand stayed firm on Kyle’s chest. She needed to keep solid contact with him, not willing to cut him out. And he seemed of the same idea. His hands were stroking her thighs, he had pushed his fingers under the edge of her skirt and was teasing her following the rhythm of her kiss with Will. Erika’s fingers fiddled with the edge of his shirt, loosening up a button just so she could slide her hand under its soft material and feel Kyle’s hot skin burn directly on her palm.

Will was quick to gain confidence. He caged her into his arms, pushing his other arm around her figure. At first, his fingers only brushed on her chest, studying her skin, then his hand wrapped gently around her neck, holding her. The way his thumb crossed her throat in a soft caress made her quiver. He then pushed his entire hand into her loose hair, grabbing it, and making her bend for him as he deepened his kiss.

Any thought Erika may have had was gone. Her mind was pure, hot vapour and she felt like she was melting away in between the two.

Kyle moved. He was done watching. He pulled himself up and got closer to her, enough to kiss the exposed skin of her shoulder. Feeling him, as if Will knew Kyle’s intentions, he moved to grant Kyle enough space to latch on her neck and rolled an arm around the Aussie, placing an open hand on the back of his neck, venturing his fingers in between his hair.

Erika released a shameless moan into Will’s mouth, not even trying to hide how turned-on she was. Especially when Kyle pulled on her thighs, inviting her to rub against him.

Erika broke the kiss with Will and turned to Kyle. Their lips connected in a savage kiss. She whimpered and purred tasting both men on her tongue. And she only wanted more. She was hungry. Violently shaken by a deep, dark desire she had never thought she would have felt. It was coming from deep within like a beast awaken.

She felt Will close to her ear. His breath was hot against her sensitive skin, rippling on her neck, making her lower abdomen react. The small sigh he released, watching her making out with Kyle slid right through her, giving her goosebumps.

“Fuck-” he whispered just as Erika slid a hand around his neck, squeezing softly.

Kyle, on the other hand, didn’t seem willing to show her mercy. He pushed her skirt high around her waist, grabbing her ass full into his large palms and guiding her firmly to roll her hips against him, bringing her to directly rub against the bulge in his pants. She was already a mess. Erika whimpered as her body was crossed by pure pleasure, only prompting Kyle to reward her with a moan of his own.

She pushed her free hand under the collar of Kyle’s shirt and across his wide shoulders, where she had no shame digging her nails.

All too suddenly, Erika broke her kiss with Kyle and gently pushed both men off her, leaving them all breathless. Her hands slid on their chest, both to keep feeling them and to halt them, even if for a moment. She looked at them both, trying to soothe their puzzled looks.

“Are you ok, love?” Will studied her features trying to read an answer on her face. His attention then slid on Kyle, to check if he was ok too.

She nodded. “Yes, more than ok,” she stroked both men tenderly, offering a grateful smile. Her attention then moved on Kyle. “I feel we are going in a certain direction, aren’t we?”

“Too soon?” The Aussie wondered, stroking her legs, this time in an affectionate, encouraging way.

“Oh, well-” Erika chuckled, trying to catch her breath, she looked at him and then back at Will, “Yes. But, it’s good. I like that direction.”

Both guys smiled bright and proud, just as if they had received a golden star. They looked at each other and, once again, they talked without words.

“I guess we like that direction too, then.” Explained Kyle, finding confirmation in Will’s nodding.

“We are talking about shagging, aren’t we? I am not misunderstanding?” Sometimes Will could be so strikingly smart. And sometimes he could be dumb as a rock and still, he’d just as easily win hearts all the same.

Erika rolled her eyes, struggling to hide an amused smirk. “That is such an ugly word, Billy.”

“Is it?” Will smirked, pushing a finger under her chin, making her look at him in the eye. “Is fucking any better.”

A shiver crossed her. “Yeah-”

Will looked straight into her eyes and she felt like she was getting lost in his gaze. “Is that what you are talking about then? You want to get fucked by both of us?”

Erika tried to suffocate a whimper, which only caused Will to chuckle. Behind his eyes hid all his desire and she seemed to be able to see all the things he wanted to do to her. Another shiver crossed her.

“I do.” She finally admitted, but before she could get lost in that statement, feeling both men closing on her, Erika held her ground, turning back to Kyle. This time, she needed to have his sole focus. “And I need to know you are with me on this.”

“Baby,” he looked up at her. He was so smitten by her, with his enamoured bright eyes and blushed cheeks, “I’d walk through fire for you. This?” He grabbed Will’s shoulder, giving him a shake, “This is just a fun night to me.”

“Tell me. Tell me you are happy to get into a threesome with me. With us. I need to hear it.” She wanted it desperately, but she had no intention of doing anything that could jeopardize her happiness with Kyle.

Kyle softly cupped his hands around her face, slowly nodding at her. “If this is what you want. And Will is down. Then I am more than fine with it.”

She nodded and then looked up at Will, looking for the same sentiment. “Will?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean this is not how I’ve planned my evening to go but I’ll be damn if I let the opportunity go,” he winked jokingly at them both, “I’m in it, loves.”

Erika melted into the widest of smiles and then she leaned in, kissing Kyle first and Will after. Only a quick one before deciding to move. They were done talking for the night.

She got up from the warm cocoon Kyle’s lap offered, holding both the boys’ hands and guiding them up to follow her. She didn’t even bother to fix her skirt or her top. To her, it was just quicker and better to get rid of her clothes entirely.

Which was precisely what she did. Knowing she had both men’s full attention burning on her back, she decided it was time to give them a show. Erika slowly and sensually started to slip out of her top, moving her body fluidly, like in a slow dance. She then stretched lazily, as if she had just woken up from a nap. Her skirt was next. She let it pool at her feet and stepped over it swaying her hips.

Behind her, she heard Will making a noise so similar to a growl. And Kyle chuckled in response, as the Aussie heavily patted the other on the chest. “You are in for a treat, my friend.”

“No doubt.”

Erika gave them a quick, cheeky look from over her shoulder, soaking up the worship in their eyes. Being almost entirely naked, save for her revealing panties, was something that made her feel extreme ease under her skin. She liked being naked.

She guided them both into the bedroom and finally faced them with a wide, victorious smile bending her lips.

She kicked her heels off, finding extreme pleasure in the sudden height difference with Kyle. Will was quite tall too, just not as tall as the Aussie. He slid his hands around her hips, holding her as his fingers toyed with the elastic of her underwear. He looked straight down into her eyes. The pale blue of his irises was as bright as fresh, calm seaside waves. That’s what he felt like to her. Warm like Summer.

Erika pulled him down in a soft kiss and then turned her attention to Will. Kyle was still close enough for her to have her back pressed on his chest.

She wondered what would Will feel like. Would a night be long enough for her to find out what Will made her feel like? She had a suspicion that just like Kyle felt like Summer and fresh, clear seawater, Will would feel like a rainy day in Autumn.

Will’s eyes slid across her body, studying her curves. “You both are fucking breathtaking, loves.” His eyes were dark and glimmering, but what she found most attractive was the pink blushing his cheeks.

Erika’s smile grew wider. Will’s voice caressed her and nested into her stomach, filling her up with confidence. “Yeah?” She wondered teasingly, sliding her hands across herself. She cupped her breasts, arching her back. Kyle, behind her, sighed in approval. Will’s gaze followed her movements closely. “Like what you see, Ospreay?” She teased.

He raised an eyebrow, “I’d be mad if I didn’t.”

She encouraged him to get closer and then moved her hands to his wide chest looking up at him. He met her with the softest of gazes, his lips bent in an encouraging smile as she felt his eyes crossing her features. “Have you been wanting this for a while, love?” He wondered playing with a lock of her hair, twirling it around his index.

Erika bit down on her lip and nodded.

“Yeah?” Will pushed on, his hand slid on her face. “With us?”

“Yes,” she whispered, not for timidity but because her breath was short. “I have thought about this moment before.”

“Damn,” Will grinned, exchanging a proud look with Kyle, over her head. When he looked back at her he had a cheeky grin printed on his lips. She knew she was safe, and yet something about the way Will just looked at her made him look somehow dangerous. It gave her a shiver that crossed her from head to toe, only bringing her desire to grow. “Tell us about your fantasy, love.”

She looked at him for a long moment and then raised her eyes to Kyle, who was waiting for her with an encouraging nod. “Go on, we are here for you.”

Erika, for the first time, felt timid. It wasn’t her naked skin making her suddenly aware of being watched and seen, but the idea of revealing something so personal to them made her hesitate and blush. Even under the promise they would have done anything to her heart's desire, she still needed a moment to fight the knot rising in her throat.

They were gonna do it. She was about to give in to her deepest fantasy.

“First,” she said pushing both men off her just so she could climb on the bed. For the first time in her life, she found herself wondering if the mattress would have welcomed three people comfortably. “You both are wearing too many clothes.” Erika pointed out kneeling in the centre of the bed, patiently waiting for the two to undress. She bit on her lip, looking at them both. “And I am getting cold.”

Kyle moved first. “We don’t want that,” he kicked off his shoes and finished to undo his shirt, throwing it on the floor. His jeans followed. Since he moved first, her attention followed him and the skin he was uncovering.

She loved the way he moved, but it wasn’t only his confidence and effortlessness that attracted her like a magnet. It was the way his pale skin moved as his muscles stretched and contracted; it was the way his hair fell on his forehead, and it was in the quietness of his steps.

As he moved across the room she followed his body. Her hungry eyes crossed his entire figure. Erika knew his body well. She knew how his skin felt and tasted. She knew exactly what he liked. She knew what made him tick and assert dominance, and what made him whimper and beg. She knew how he liked to be handled but mostly, how he liked to handle her. And she knew how to behave to please him. He was surprising in many aspects and sex was one of those. Kyle was extremely open-minded. He liked to play and experiment and, especially for that reason, they had tried most things in the bedroom. Probably for that specific reason, she was extremely comfortable with him and also never tired of him. There was something about Kyle that kept her wanting, always, no matter how much pleasure he’d bring her in one sitting.

Agile like a cat, Kyle moved fluidly and reached her side. Biting down on his lower lip, he made her raise her face and look at him pushing only the tip of his index under her chin.

She was completely under his spell.

Kyle stole a kiss and then guided her to look back at Will, leaning his head against hers.

Will stood stiff in the middle of the room, he was observing them closely. His gaze was hooked to them both, as his eyes didn't miss any opportunity to cruise on their bodies. And yet, some form of soft shyness seemed to hit him.

Erika giggled, taken by surprise and nonetheless attracted to him. His rosy cheeks made her tremble with the desire to conquer him. She raised an encouraging hand, calling him to her. “What's the matter, Will?” She wondered as she gently pulled him to her. He hesitated as he moved closer to them, holding his breath. When he stopped at the foot of the bed, so close to her, he instinctively looked at Kyle, looking for support, not daring to move another inch.

She knew exactly what he was looking for, just as much as she knew how willing Kyle was, by then, to do his best to make everyone feel comfortable and give them all the night of their lives. She felt the Aussie moving behind her, but before he could do or say anything, she took control of the situation back.

Erika smiled sweetly, like a doll, knowing exactly how to use all her assets to make men tremble. She dared to get as close to Will as possible and tapped his proud chin, making him look at her instead. “Do you need me to help you undress?” Her tone was low and tempting.

As soon as Will’s gaze fell on her, she felt all the weight of his desire hitting her. Her smile widened as her hands cruised across his wide chest. “Hey,” she whispered softly, “It’s ok,” she encouraged him, never breaking eye contact as her fingers hooked on his shirt and pulled it gently up his abdomen, prompting him.

He finally seemed to defrost and slipped out of his t-shirt in one fluid move.

When his chest was left bare, Erika looked down. She had seen him like that many times, but she had never been naked in front of him before. Again, her hands moved avidly on his torso, studying the solid edges of his muscles. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft under her touch and the more she touched, the more of his body she desired to explore and not only with her hands. She looked at her own fingers moving across his abdomen, tracing the edges of his abs. She felt her mouth water as the feral need to nibble on the soft skin on his belly intensified.

When her hands moved down to his belt, she looked back up at him. She whipped out a cheeky smile as she toyed with the edge of his jeans, following it around his hips. Will’s gaze hadn’t moved, he was studying her every feature, still not daring to move.

“You know what my fantasy involves, Will?” She wondered pulling a hand back to reach blindly for Kyle, who was ready to take her arm into his hand and guide her palm to his mouth, as he softly kissed her skin. She shivered.

“Tell us,” Will’s coarse voice was low and rumbled right through her stomach and into her lower abdomen.

“Touch me.” She ordered, guiding one of his hands to her hip.

Will didn’t need more than that. His other hand followed and as soon as both his big hands solidly caged her waist, Erika released a satisfied sigh. His hands were rough and yet his touch was careful and warm.

Unable to keep herself at a distance anymore, Erika pushed herself against him and, pulling on his neck, kissed him.

Will was quick to act. Every trace of timidity left him. His lips were nothing but welcoming, the taste of his tongue on her made Erika’s head spin. He caged her in between his strong arms and didn’t hesitate to grab her ass, solidly feeling her soft flesh with his hand. Holding her like that, he pulled her towards him, making her pressing herself completely against his chest. A satisfied, low growl left him, as he felt her naked skin and breasts against him.

As sweet as the idea of letting go was, Erika resisted. She abruptly pushed Will away, breaking their kiss and then slipped off his hold only to fall back into Kyle's hug.

As he welcomed her in his arms, she snuggled on his chest, sitting back on his lap and letting her head fall on his shoulder. Kyle’s arms moved around her hips as his lips cruised her shoulder. He followed up her neck, prompting Erika to turn and catch his lips, pushing a hand into his hair.

Kyle’s hands moved across her abdomen and, as he reached for her breasts, cupping both of them into his large palms, she arched her back, pushing her chest out and her ass back into his crouch.

She knew Will was watching and it was inebriating.

“You are still dressed, Will.” She teased, looking back at the Brit and whipping a sharp grin. She leaned against Kyle again, from there, she had a good enough view of the other.

Taking it like a challenge, just like she hoped, Will raised his chin and let her watch as he removed his jeans. There weren’t many things able to make her lose her mind, but seeing such a big, strong, successful guy blushing for her was one of those.

His boxers followed and, once he was naked in front of her, Will raised his chin once more, proudly accepting her curious gaze on his exposed body.

Erika followed his abdomen and had to bite her tongue not to bark seeing his hip dips. She wanted to sink her teeth in them and leave a mark. Her eyes then, with no shame or modesty, followed the dark happy trail under his belly button and fell on his erection. There was nothing to hide anymore, after all. And still, right there and then she found herself still not prepared to see another man in full, beautiful nudity.

“Is this what you wanted, love?” He wondered, wrapping his hand around his cock, massaging it slowly. “Is it as you fantasised?”

Erika couldn’t take her eyes off him and was so taken she didn’t realise her jaw had dropped. He was big. She had always suspected it, but seeing him for the first time made her suddenly feel empty and desperate.

She released a giggle, pressing her face into Kye’s neck. “You both will be the ruin of me.”

Kyle softly kissed her temple and then cheek, moving to her ear, pushing her to look back at Will with his face. “Wasn’t that what you wanted, baby?”

“I,” Will began climbing on the bed, “want you to tell us exactly what you want us to do to you,” He got closer to them and softly scooped her face into his palms, capturing her eyes, “I want to know how you like to get fucked, love.”

She replied with a small whimper and just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, Kyle traced a hand to her neck, bringing her to look at him. “What are you in the mood for, baby?”

Her hands raced to both men, as she needed to hold onto them. Her skin was hot and felt tight around her own body as she desperately needed to be touched, bit and licked. Just thinking about it made her abdomen ache. She felt her loins tortured by the heaviness of her desire.

Kyle kissed her and then looked at Will, exchanging a complicit look. His attention still focused on her. “Do you want to lead? Or would you like us to take care of you?”

Erika nodded, her eyes moved from Kyle to Will, nodding again to him. “You take it. The control, take it,” she said looking up at Kyle, giving him permission to do of her like he pleased and decide if and when to let Will do the same.

“Ok, baby,” Kyle whispered softly, rewarding her with another kiss. Then, his grip around her throat became more assertive. He pulled her against his chest, making sure Will had complete view over her.

“Shall we show Will how good you are, pet?” He wondered to her ear, switching from his more affectionate pet name to the one he preferred using when he was going to be dominant. His eyes still pointed at Will, teasing him, studying his reaction. “What do you think?” Kyle continued, softly nibbling at her neck. “I think Will would like to see what a good girl you can be.”

Her eyelids fell heavy on her eyes as she too studied Will reaction, feeling her skin quiver under the intense laser hot focus he had on them. His eyes followed as one of Kyle’s hands moved on her abdomen and down. When the Aussie pushed his hands in between her legs, they both were left breathless. “Shit, pet,” the way he kept gently and devotedly referring to her with her pet name made Erika’s lose her train of thoughts. “Mh,” Kyle smiled proudly, releasing a low moan, “you are so wet. Soaked your panties.”

Erika trembled under the attentive touch of his fingers, trying to move her hips and have more. “Kyle,” she huffed, digging her nails into his forearm.

“You should have told us you were such a mess,” he still teased, raising his hand to show Will her juices sticking his fingers. “Do you want Will to touch you like this?” He wondered lowering his hand again, not giving her time to reply. This time, when he reached back, he pushed his hand under her panties, pushing his large fingers through her folds, finding her clit with ease. Kyle smiled like a wolf, moving his attention to Will, enjoying seeing the Brit breathless.

“Do you hear the noises she makes, Willy?” Just to prove a point, the Aussie left space to the squelching noise her pussy made as he toyed with her. Her soft, sweet whimpers followed. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Will was gone, lost under Kyle’s spell just like she was. “She is. You both are.”

Erika trembled under Kyle’s touch. She was already a mess and he had barely started touching her. Kyle had no mercy either, he was determined to give Will a show. “Say it, pet. Tell me.”

The way Will was looking at her made her skin ache. “I do, I do,” she whined, “please,”

Kyle took her words like an order and let go of her, looking at Will over her shoulder. A smile crossed them both and, after a nod of acknowledgement, Will took over.

He towered over her, his hands quickly tracing down her hips, gripping on her thin underwear. “You won’t need these, will you, love?” He wondered and, as she replied with a whimper, he ripped her panties unapologetically, giggling to himself. As he pushed his hand in between her legs, Erika climbed his figure, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and dragging him down into a kiss.

Will pushed his rough fingers into her wet folds and welcomed her heat with a low, pleased moan that vibrated through his chest and straight into her belly. He didn’t give her anytime to get used to him, the pace of his strokes was unforgiving. “Do you want to come?”

Erika nodded, rolling her eyes in the back of her skull, already feeling her abdomen heavily contracting as waves of pleasure crossed her.

“Nah,” Will wrapped his free hand around her throat and squeezed, “that’s not enough, love. Kyle said you’d be a good girl. So tell me. I wanna hear it.”

“Fuck-” She huffed, digging her nails into his shoulder, feeling herself already coming undone. “Make me come. Please Will, please,”

Will smirked. His grin made his lips bend in a dangerous curl. Merciless, Will stopped stroking her only to look down at her, amused. “Already begging?” He looked back at Kyle, “We haven’t even started with you. Are you sure you can take us?”

“I can take anything you guys have to give,”

“Careful, love, we might take you up on that.”

“Such a desperate mess,” Kyle started, dragging himself closer to her. The moment she realised she was squeezed in between them two it was like she breathed new life, and still, air wasn’t was she needed to stay alive anymore. Not as much as she needed them right there and then. Kyle kissed her shoulder, neck, ear, pushing a hand in between her hair and pulling them, making her raise her head forcefully. “So pretty,” he smiled, still looking at her with the upmost devotion.

“She is.” Will agreed, “Keep her steady,” he ordered and proceeded to go back touching her. Again, his touch was hot and skilled and his pace unforgiving. Kyle did as instruct and held her, ready to catch her as Will pushed over the edge. “Yeah, love, c’mon, come for us,” they both watched her in awe as she came. Kyle pushed a thumb into her mouth, trying to suffocate her loud moans, with not much success. As her orgasm shook her, Will pushed two fingers inside of her. She welcomed that invasion eagerly, moving her hips into his palm.

“Fuck-” he groaned as her walls squeezed his fingers, “so fucking tight.” Will guided her through her high and then let her catch her breath, as both men held her. He then raised his fingers to his mouth, sucking her juices off his digits right under her eyes. Erika gasped, looking at the way the pink tip of his tongue danced on his fingertips. “so fucking delicious.”

Taken by a ravaging desire, Erika pulled herself up, capturing Will’s lips into a kiss. Tasting herself on his tongue made her whine and purr, feeling as she had just marked him. It was something primal, and she wasn’t ashamed of it.

The moment she caught her breath, Erika moved her attention to Kyle. Now distancing herself slightly from Will, she climbed on the other and found a comfortable nest into his lap. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you still have your boxers on.” She dared, pushing her fingers into his hair, only to move them back on his forehead.

Kyle smiled. “Why? Does it bother you, pet?” He teased her, only prompting her to move her hips on him, rubbing herself intentionally on his erection.

Not satisfied, she then pushed her hand on the trapped bulge of his erection, grinning proudly up at him. He was so hard it made her mouth water. Knowing he wanted her so bad only fed her ego. “Yes,” she purred, massaging him and enjoying seeing how he moved under her spell. Erika watched his shoulder tensing and his Adam’s apple tremble in his throat. “Especially since I’d like to choke on your cock as Will fucks me.”

“Is that your little fantasy?” As Kyle wrapped his long arms around her, Will was the one who moved closer to them now.

He softly kissed her necked shoulder, as his hands found her hips. He traced her skin all the way up to her neck with his lips and she could feel he was smiling. “Is it, love?”

Erika had to remind herself to breathe and when she did, she almost chocked, trying to regain focus. She nodded, rolling her head back just enough to look up at Will. “Yes. To begin with,”

Will raised his eyebrows and sent an amused look to Kyle, his smile only widened. “Did you hear your little girl? To begin with, that’s impressive.”

Kyle pushed her hair behind her ear, attracting her attention back to him. “She has stamina. Right, pet?”

Erika gaze became sharper. She looked at Kyle first and Will after and then she kissed them both. “You are driving me insane.” She confessed, “I have never craved sex like I am doing right now. Like a fucking animal. So,” Erika gave them both a soft push, only to get them to give her the space to position herself facing Kyle and giving her back to Will. “I want you both to fuck me until I beg you to stop. Until I fucking cry or pass out. Can you do that?” She wondered pointing both her indexes under their chins. “And I am not being a good girl right now,” she continued, lowering herself on all fours. “I am being very, very naughty and I want you to punish me. I want you to either shut me up or make me scream.”

Kyle grabbed her chin, making her look at him, purposely towering above her. With his thumb he pushed her lips open, toying with her, enjoying seeing how she followed his queue and flicked her tongue on his digit. “Heard that, mate?” He didn’d look away but wasn’t talking to her.

“Loud and clear, bruv,” Will’s hand followed her hips, prompting her ass up. He wrapped one of his strong arms around her hips, pulling her towards him, rubbing himself against her ass. “You want me to fuck you while your boyfriend watches? So fucking dirty.”

“S-shit, Will,” she breathed heavily, “Kyle.”

Calling for the Aussie only prompted Will to give her a push, bending her forward in front of him. He slid his hands across her thighs, first the outside and then, his fingers teased her, following her most sensitive skin on the inside, encouraging her. She felt his eyes burning on her skin, “Fuck me, you are perfect, love. Spread those legs for me, let me see your little pussy,” his hands moved around her glutes, spreading them and toying with her flesh.

She was blinded by desire by then. Her mind was fogged, everything she could think about was the cold feeling of air hitting her exposed skin and her aching, empty loins waiting to be filled.

As she arched her back, in an automatic response, Will sighed in approval, rewarding her with a playful slap on her ass. Then, he pushed his heavy cock on her, sliding it on her wet folds, teasing her clit. Erika whimpered, trembling under him. “You want it. Such a bad girl so desperate for this cock, uh? Who would have thought,” He then proceeded to push a finger inside of her, and then a second, “Fuck,” he gasped, “You are even wetter than before.”

“Please, Will-” as she begged him, her hands opened on the mattress, her arms already shaking under the pressure. She licked her lips.

A hot wave of pleasure crossed her, making her quiver. She released a soft moan, with her chin still in Kyle grab. She looked up at him, silently begging to get what she asked for.

“What’s that, pet?” He wondered casually, pretending not to know what she wanted. Kyle pulled on her chin, making her bend between them. “You want my dick? What a dirty, dirty slut you are, begging to be filled both ends by two guys.”

In response, she simply nodded, releasing a choked moan, as her focus slid on his boxers. She was ready to drool, only seeing the underline of his cock pressing heavily in the soft material of his boxers.

Kyle let her go with a ruder push, granting her the freedom to do as she pleased and Erika finally reached for him. She took a moment to toy with him, rubbing her hands on his cock and balls from over his boxers. Erika followed his lower abdomen with her tongue until she reached the elastic of his underwear, it may have looked like she had some patience left, but truth was she was done, she couldn’t wait any longer. She eagerly pulled his boxers down his thighs and grabbed his erection with both hands. As she traced his length with her tongue, Erika looked up, making sure Kyle was enjoying the view.

He released a grunt, pushing a hand into her hair, grabbing a handful. His other hand slid around her throat, grabbing at her solidly. “Are you ready, pet?”

As she nodded to him, Kyle’s attention briefly moved to Will signalling to him the same message. “Fuck her,” he ordered. “Give her exactly what she asked. Be rough, she likes it rough, right pet?” Kyle’s attention slid back on her.

Erika nodded, now entirely submissive, “Yes, please. Please, Will, just give it to me,”

Will pushed a hand up her back, following her spine, pushing her down. “Then, put your face on the mattress, love. Give me a minute and then Fletch can fuck your pretty throat, yes?”

She obeyed and as she lowered herself, both men released a pleased sigh.

Will positioned himself, prompting the tip of his fat cock against her entrance. He teased her a couple of seconds and then, with no warning, grabbing onto her hips, he pushed himself inside of her with one sharp thrust, making sure he hit her as deeply as he possibly could. He ripped a loud moan out of her chest that she suffocated in the mattress, only prompting him to groan in response. He stretched her completely, taking her breath away. They both moaned, as she melted in a victorious smile.

Will then gave her take a moment to get used to him. As she welcomed his size, squeezing him, Erika almost lost strength, feeling the need to let herself go. She was already seeing stars. She felt him in her belly, so deep inside of her she was sure she had never felt so filled.

“Good girl,” he rewarded her with a praise, before he started to move, slow at first in and out of her. “Such a good little girl with a good little pussy,”

Erika purred and whimpered, calling his name, as pleasure prevailed over her.

Every one of his pushes made her pleasure grow, bringing her to unashamedly moan for him, as the pressure of a new, rising orgasm nested across her stomach.

Will’s hands were solidly holding onto her hips as he fucked her from behind, guiding her to slide upon his cock. He was holding her so tightly it almost hurt, almost, because her pleasure was much greater, enough for her to forget about discomfort. Plus, she was hoping his clutch would leave bruises on her skin. There was something so profound, so intimate, about being marked during sex, and she loved to have her skin baring the traces of passion.

There was a pause. Kyle waited patiently, giving her the chance to get used to Will first, before he too moved, pulling on her hair to get her back up. She was ready to welcome him as soon as he did. Keeping her by her hair with one hand and wrapping his other around her throat, helping her balancing herself, Kyle smiled dangerously to her, willing to give her exactly what she had asked for, nodding, as she opened her mouth for him. “Good girl, open wide,”.

Erika leaned in, sliding her tongue across his shaft, from base to tip, enjoying hearing his sigh of approval. She closed her lips around the tip of his cock, sucking on it and playing with it with her tongue, and then she pulled him deeper in the back of her throat. Kyle grabbed on her hair. And Will clutched on the soft edges of her hips, digging his cock deeper inside of her. So much she thought she felt his hit in her stomach.

Erika had never felt so filled up and she loved it. It made her skin shiver and her stomach tremble as pleasure buzzed through her entire being, making her arms and legs shake. She savoured the feeling of both their hands on her, as the warmth of both their bodies seeped through her skin. She was so lost in the pleasure Will was giving her and in the devotion she was determined to show Kyle as he fucked her throat, she didn’t even recognize the waves of an orgasm growing on her. To the point that, when she came, it was a surprise.

“Fuck,” Will grunted, “Yes, love, yes. Come for me. Such a good girl.” As Will praised her, guiding her through her orgasm with unforgiving thrusts, Kyle pulled back, granting her the possibility to voice her pleasure. He scooped her face up, making her look at him. “Are you coming, pet?”

She was only able to roll her eyes, nodding, unable to speak if not for convulsed whimpers.

Will didn’t stop. He kept pounding her trembling flesh. He guided her through her high and then right into overstimulation. Unforgiving and perfect. As her strength left her, he was ready to grab her a moment before she folded on the mattress. Will pulled her up, so her shoulders were pressed against his chest. He held her tight with an arm around her waist and a hand wrapped around her throat. “Oh, we are not done, love.” His whisper sounded so sweet and yet so threatening. She looked up at him, helpless, only able to whimper as her tired flesh was charging up again. She felt like she could break under such pressure. Will’s fingers slid around her jaw, holding her as he nodded proudly. “Go on, love, give me another, I know you have it in you.” He then pulled her chin, turning her towards Kyle, “Let your boyfriend watch you coming on my cock again.”

Will slid his free hand between her thighs, easily finding her clit that he proceeded to massage, still pounding inside of her, breaking her breath with every hit.

“Touch yourself, Kyle,” Will instructed, his hungry gaze falling on the Aussie. “I want to see it.”

Erika watched as Kyle gave Will what he wanted without hesitation, wrapping his hand around his cock, he pumped into his palm, letting the Brit curiously and unashamedly watch. Kyle released a small whimper, calling for Will’s name, only prompting the Brit to approve with a grunt.

Erika grabbed on Will’s arm, digging her nails through his skin, doing her best to find something to hold onto as a new wave of pleasure washed over her. This second orgasm was so powerful that it blinded her for a moment. She cried out loud, calling for Will’s name multiple times, as he guided her through her pleasure, this time properly, granting her the chance to catch her breath, indulging her satisfied body, supporting her. He whispered sweet praises into her ear, welcoming her pleasure with pure satisfaction.

As soon as Will loosened his hold on her, Erika thought she could fall, but Kyle was there to catch her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as Kyle took her away from Will’s arms and laid her on the mattress. He caressed and kissed her sweaty skin, praising her too, granting her the possibility to rest her quivering body for a moment.

“Are you ok, baby?” Kyle checked on her.

Erika’s eyelids still felt too heavy for her to open her eyes but she had enough strength to loosely raise a hand to his face and brush be back of her fingers on his cheek, grateful to his sweet attentions. She was only able to nod to his question. And yet a lazy smile crossed her lips.

She was fatigued, out of breath, maybe even tired, but not at all satisfied, besides the fact that her belly still vibrated with the echoes of the deep pleasure Will just gave her.

Kyle softly kissed her chin and then her lips, to which point she had gained enough focus back to let her fingers wander free into the lose locks of his hair. At the same time, without looking, she raised her other hand to Will and was pleasantly surprised when he took it into both his, lowering himself to softly kiss her knuckles.

“Was it good, love?” Will wondered, laying next to her and daring to deliver a timid kiss on her shoulder.

Erika chuckled, still out of breath from before. Words were still difficult to be formulated. She suspected they had just fucked her brains out, which made her very happy. So, instead of trying to formulate some grateful praises, she turned to him and kissed him.

“That good, uh?” Kyle was ready to make a light joke as he pressed his smile into the crook of her neck, but before he could, Erika moved so quickly she surprised even herself.

“Mh, yes,” She rolled on top of him, grabbing both his wrists and pushing his arms above his head. Then she sat back, straddling him, looking down at him. Her eyes cruised avidly across his body, “But don’t think I am done with you.”

She then looked at Will too, just to make sure her message was clear. She meant every word from before.

She pushed her index under Will’s raised chin, enjoying seeing how he moved, attracted like a magnet to her, following her as if she had been pulling him up. When he sat back up and was close enough for a kiss, she smiled evilly, pushing him back down on the mattress.

It was clear she had just decided to take control and both men were willing to give her what she wanted. Both acted following her. When she needed them to lead, they were there to handle her, but now, just as easily, they both submitted themselves. It made her feel all-powerful.

Her attention moved back on Kyle. She pushed her hands on his chest and down, across his abdomen, following the solid line of his muscles with her nails, just to tease him. He didn’t dare to move, keeping his wrists crossed above his head as if she had tied him up.

“Now,” she grinned, as her hand slowly traced back to Kyle’s neck. He bent under her, stretching just as she liked, releasing a soft pleasureful sigh. “It’s your turn,” she proudly announced, only bringing Kyle to nod, completely lost in her design. Erika turned to Will, raising her chin, enjoying to be the one towering over them both, now. “Are you going to watch me ride my boyfriend’s cock?” She wondered, knowing there was only one answer to her question, and still enjoying seeing how Will nodded. “Will you touch yourself as I fuck him? Pretending your hand is my little pussy?”

Will released a low hiss, nodding to her words. “Yes, ma’am.”

Erika’s eyes widened as his words hit her right in the stomach. A shiver crossed her and then became hot pleasure melting into her. Her lips bent into a warm, wide smile as she stretched and purred. “Look at you,” she grabbed Will’s chin, giving him a soft pull, “you already know exactly how I like to be pleased. Good boy.”

Though as soon as she let him go with a push, her attention went back on Kyle and never moved off him. She smiled at him as sweet and as dangerous as poison. She soaked in the devotion in her eyes and rolled her hips above his, willingly rubbing herself on his erection. The shiver that crossed him made her purr once more.

“You are such a pretty boy,” she praised him, her hands cruising across his torso. Kyle smiled to her letting her do her thing. She followed his arms and bent over him, grabbing his wrists and pushing them down behind his head as she kissed him.

He only pretended to try and fight her hold and resist her, but she knew if he actually wanted to break free, he could have easily overpowered her. The fact that he let her lead, especially after she had granted him the control, was intoxicating. She always liked to break the rules. Even her own.

“Did you like seeing Will fucking me?” She teased him sliding her nails across his chest, now deeper, making sure to leave marks.

Kyle gulped loudly and then he nodded. “I did.”

“Do you want me to fuck you, now?”

“I do.” He pushed himself slightly up, only enough to catch her lips in a famished, desperate kiss.

She didn’t wait much longer. Pushing a hand between their bodies she positioned him to her entrance and slid above him, taking every inch of his length. She pulled herself up, pushing on his chest and let her head fall backwards, welcoming his size with a moan. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.”

She admired him as he welcomed her tight hold with departed lips and glimmering eyes fogged by desire.

Erika looked over to Will, willingly rolling her hips on Kyle’s cock only to see him mirroring her movement with his hand clutched around his erection. God, those two men, lost in their pleasure, laying underneath her, were gorgeous. The two most beautiful men she had ever laid eyes upon. Both hers in that specific moment.

She stretched letting her head fall backwards, voicing her pleasure. Erika had absolutely no patience or desire to take it easy. She moved her hips up and down Kyle’s cock at a voracious pace and he let her choose the rhythm she more desired, giving her everything she wanted. Understanding her need to get off once more, and being more than supportive about her desires.

The room filled with their moans. To Erika, it was like something had awaken inside of her. A wild, ravaging desire she had never had before. Something hidden and profound had woken a side of her she didn’t know. And she wondered if she would have ever been able to get back to the person she was and to the life she had.

Erika grabbed Kyle by the neck and squeezed his throat. A satisfied, complicit wide smile crossed her lips as she encouraged him. Pleasure started to build inside of her, firing up her nerves, gathering pressure around her stomach. The more she was given, the more she desired, it was like a sweet curse. And she started to doubt she could really reach full satisfaction.

She gave Kyle a pull, and, like driven by an invisible force, he moved, doing exactly what she wished him to, knowing what she needed. “What is it baby?” He sat up underneath her and caged her in between her arms, now guiding her to ride him, holding her safely. “Are you coming again?”

Erika held solidly onto his shoulders, digging her nails into his back. She suffocated a loud moan into the crook of his neck and then nodded, feeling the intense waves of pleasure mounting inside of her.

“I need-” her breath was broken by a whimper as her fogged up eyes searched for Will. She reached for him and just as Kyle did before, he too was ready to move for her.

He was quick to kneel by her side and took her hand into his, letting her palm nest on his chest. “What is it, love?”

“Tell us what you need, baby.”

“Just,” she whispered, “come with me, the both of you.”

Will’s free hand slid on the back of her neck, holding her head up as he pressed his lips on her temple and cheek, bringing her to first kiss him and then let her turn to kiss Kyle.

In the heat of the moment, she let go and came again. This time, as violent as the one before. Blinded by pleasure, her strength leaved her the second her body came undone. Erika abandoned herself between the two men’s arms, crying out their name.

Both Will and Kyle followed her closely filling her up and marking her skin.

Erika found herself thinking God, be praised, and had the impression she heard bells tolling, as the two men held her and their pleasure dissipated in the thick, hot air surrounding them.

It was a funny thought. She wasn’t even religious. An innocent giggle rolled through her chest as both Kyle and Will laid her back on the mattress with care.

“Good?” Kyle was short breathed and still leaned into her, only bringing her to roll and snuggle against him, rubbing her face against his neck, grateful. “So good.”

Will, on the other side of her, fixed a pillow under her head and then softly kissed her shoulder. “You are something else, love,” feeling his smile on her skin made her stretch against him and turn, looking for a kiss, “how the fuck am I supposed to get over you two now?”

“Don’t,” Kyle suggested, “Stay.”

“Yeah?” Will wondered hopeful.

“Check me in a loony bin if I’ll ever refuse you, mate.”

Will exchanged a soft look with Kyle, revealing some sort of gratitude hiding behind his blue eyes. It wasn’t only about stepping into another man’s bed, with his partner. It was much more than that, hidden in plain sight right in between the two boys.

As Will relaxed, Kyle smiled widely and welcomed him with an affectionate, soft slap on the cheek. “Good boy, Billy Goat,” then the Aussie leaned into Erika kissing her softly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, uhm?”

Before he could move away, she held him down making him look back at her. “I love you, Kyle Fletcher.”

“Whatever,”

#will ospreay #kyle fletcher #will ospreay smut #will ospreay x reader #kyle fletcher smut #kyle fletcher x reader #will ospreay x ofc #kyle fletcher x ofc #aew fanfiction #will ospreay fanfic #kyle fletcher fanfic

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allelitesmut · 1 year

Text

Palate Cleanser

After a nasty break up, Riley, a television actress, runs into her oldest and most complicated friend. Maybe Max is exactly what she needs to forget all about her ex.

Ship: MJF x Actress!Childhood Friend!OFC

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Angst with a capital A, Smut (minors dni), Cheating, Drinking, Rough sex, Choking, Spanking, Hair pulling, No seriously an extremely unhealthy dose of angst, mentions of public sex, fingering, minor degradation, biting, LONG don't know if I need to tag for that but this thing is long, and once more for good measure - Angst.

Riley stretched back in her stiff plastic chair, stifling a yawn and scrubbing her hands over her eyes.

“Coffee.” Katherine, her best friend and co-star swung around into the seat beside her. Riley puffed out a sigh and reached out for the cup she’d placed in front of her with a grateful look.

“You’re a lifesaver.” She spoke between hurried sips. “These early morning cons are not agreeing with me.” The warmth was an immediate relief to her system.

“That or last night’s tequila shots.” Katherine snickered and Riley slumped forward, laying her face flat on the table.

“That too.”

The table was cool against her cheek and she wondered briefly if she couldn’t sneak in a quick nap before their first meet and greet. Heaving a sigh but not summoning the energy to move her head, Riley reopened her eyes to see an eerily familiar blonde head of hair passing sideways through her field of vision. Her head shot up and she narrowed her eyes, attempting to see across the large convention floor. And sure enough, heading to a spot just a few tables away, was a face she hadn’t seen in years, apart from a few choice dreams. Even through his expensive suit, she could tell he was more muscular than she remembered and he was sporting the worst tan she had ever seen but there was no doubt it was him. She swallowed hard.

“Hello, are you in there?” Katherine waved a hand in front of her face before tilting her head and following her gaze over to his table. “You got a thing for wrestlers now?” Her lips curled up with a breath of a laugh.

“Wrestlers…” Riley mumbled the word as the pieces clicked together in her head. She felt like an idiot - how could she have forgotten? Granted, the last time she talked to him, he was wrestling in gymnasiums, he certainly wasn’t doing meet and greets at conventions, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t tuned in from time to time to see him on tv.

He was arguing with the guy at the table next to him when his eyes caught hers. She could hear his voice stop abruptly but averted her eyes hoping he hadn’t really noticed her, focusing on her coffee.

“Oh, babe, I think you caught his attention.” Katherine elbowed her with a grin.

“Stop looking at him!” She hissed, smacking Katherine in the gut.

“Okay but I think that’s gonna be tough because he’s headed this way.”

Shit. The pit in her stomach grew right alongside the unmistakable sound of his shoes getting closer. Her eyes peeled slowly up to take him in fully.

“Well, well. As I live and breathe.” He took his time on each word, savoring it. His voice was different, deeper and more pompous, but that stupid, arrogant smirk was the same. “Riley Masterson, in the flesh.” The way her name on his tongue sent adrenaline shooting down her spine proved to be the same too. “Long time no see, sweetheart.”

“Maxwell.” Her lips curled up involuntarily. “You…uh…you look good.” Her eyes traveled down his figure, despite her best efforts, fully taking in the way he filled out his suit. He raised a brow, his smirk only growing.

“Oh, I bet I do.” He didn’t hide the way his eyes were appraising her, tongue tracing across the edge of his teeth. She squirmed in her seat. “I was starting to think I was never going to see you again.” She shrugged with a coy smile.

“I guess it has been a while.”

“Four years.” He answered with a certainty she didn’t expect. It didn’t take long for Katherine to put the timing of Riley's last relationship together and, in her periphery, she saw Katherine's head snap to her.

“Yeah, that sounds about right…” Riley pointedly avoided meeting anyone's eyes. It didn’t take a genius to put together that she hadn’t spoken to Max since shortly after her and Lucas, her on screen love interest and newly ex-boyfriend, got together.

“It’s been a busy four years for you.” He motioned at the sign hung behind her that displayed the title of the show she had been a mainstay on since around that same time.

“And for you too from the looks of your gaudy new belt.” She raised a brow with a tilted smile, her gaze falling pointedly to the championship belt fit snugly around his waist. The logo was different but it wasn’t too dissimilar to the replica belt she’d seen sitting on the shelf in his room all those years ago. It looked much better on his waist.

“Hey now, sweetheart, jealousy is not a good shade on you.” He shook his head disapprovingly with a thinly veiled grin. “If only you’d taken me up on those wrestling lessons, you could have had one of these beauties for yourself.” He patted the belt and she clutched her chest with a puff of breath.

“Oh, the weight of my bad decision making is overwhelming. Would that have earned me the bad tan job, too?” She teased, biting back a smile and he opened his mouth to feign insult but was interrupted.

A cracked and muffled voice over the intercom announced that doors would be opening in five minutes. Her eyes drew up and then back onto Maxwell, leaning against her table with an easy, charming smile. It shouldn’t have surprised her how quickly they fell back into their rhythm but after the way they left things, she really was caught off guard.

His fingers tapped along the wooden surface and she tried not to let them snag her attention the way they always used to. If she let herself remember the way the pads of his calloused fingers always felt so rough against her skin, or notice how much more prominent the veins on the back of his hands were, or think about how good he was at curling those thick digits into just the right spot….

“Are you around the rest of the weekend?” His voice snapped her back to attention. She didn’t miss the smug look on his face as he caught her staring and, no doubt, knew exactly where her mind had wandered.

“Unfortunately, no. I'm only scheduled today so I fly out tomorrow morning. You too?”

“God, I wish but I've got another full day of this shit. Believe me, I'll be catching the first flight I can out of this dump and getting my ass back home.” He leaned back on his heel. “We should catch up over drinks tonight if you aren’t busy.”

She hesitated, the response stuck in her throat but Katherine interjected.

“She’s not. She’ll be there.” She was unfazed by the disbelieving look Riley gave her. Max’s brow furrowed for a moment as he glanced between Katherine and Riley before giving a final confident nod.

“Good. I’ll find you when this crap is over.” He toed the line of asking and telling her. Riley struggled to put up an argument.

This had been the longest they had ever gone without seeing each other and she had already come to terms with the fact that she would probably never see him again. At times, she had even been sure it was for the best. But she would be lying if she said that, here, face to face, she didn’t want to see more of him. That thrill that went up her spine when he looked at her didn’t help.

“It really is so good to see you again.” His eyes scaled up her body, drinking her in once last time before heading back to his table.

Oh, she was in trouble.

———

“So are you going to jump straight to explaining the hot new asshole in your life or are you going to make me pry it out of you by force?” Katherine asked and Riley snorted, face down, focused heavily on her lunch.

“Maxwell? Please.” But it didn’t assuage her. “Oh I don’t know. Max- Max is an old…” She paused, eyes roving around the makeshift dining area.

“Fling?” Katherine suggested but Riley scoffed so she raised a brow. “Flame?”

“Friend.” Riley corrected and Katherine rolled her eyes.

“Please don’t insult my intelligence.” She cut off Riley's objections before she could even get started. “There’s no way you’ve never slept with him. Not with the ‘fuck me’ eyes you were giving him. Not even Lucas got ‘fuck me’ eyes like that.” She didn’t think she had been that transparent. She hoped he didn’t think she had been that obvious. She was certain he thought they were going to sleep together tonight but she didn’t need to be reinforcing that thought. “So what’s the scoop on Blondie?”

“Fine, we’ve slept together a few times.” Few might have been an understatement.

“A few??” Katherine stopped with her food halfway to her mouth. “How do I not know about him? Must not have been any good if you’ve never bothered to mention him.”

“Max is probably…” She hummed, wincing after a moment of thought. “No. Definitely the best sex I’ve ever had.” Katherine gaped at her with narrowed, disbelieving eyes.

“You’re kidding me. Pretty boy?” She leaned into her conspiratorially. Riley nodded, eyes on her salad. “The guy that looks like he couldn’t find the clitoris if it smacked him in the face? The guy that looks like he’s probably won three consecutive awards for ‘worlds most selfish lover’?” Riley choked a laugh but nodded again.

“Don’t know what to tell you. It’s just always so intense with him, I don’t know that anybody could touch that.” As if that even began to describe what it was like to be with Max.

“And when, exactly did you manage to fit in a few times with this intense, mystery guy? I swear we’ve traced your uninterrupted string of long term boyfriends all the way back to seventh grade. I don’t remember that name.” She didn’t take her eyes off her but Riley just offered a shrug.

“Because he wasn’t my boyfriend.” She answered simply, as if he wasn’t the only exception, but Katherine was already melodramatically clutching at her chest. Boy, was he an outlier if there ever was one, though.

“What?! Miss Monogamy had a dirty little hook up? How did this happen?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Riley groaned a response, running a hand through her hair. She had no idea where to even beginning with Max. “I’ve known him forever. When my dad left, my mom and I moved to a new house, two doors down from Max. We grew up together, I guess, and we ended up decently good friends by high school.” Twenty years that they had known each other now. A lifetime.

“Don’t tell me he was actually your first.” Katherine groaned, pretending to gag, and Riley rolled her eyes at her.

“He wasn’t. It’s nothing that dire.” She waved her off. Katherine waited for her to elaborate and she sighed, placing her fork down and leaning back in her chair. She glanced around the backstage area to be sure he hadn’t snuck in while she wasn’t looking. “Like I said, we were pretty close in high school. And I’m not sure if you remember the story about how things ended with the guy I actually lost my virginity to, but- ”

“Oh believe me, I remember. With him kissing Savannah Morgansen at the end of the year pool party? Literally classless.” Katherine interrupted her, shaking her head, and Riley swallowed a laugh.

“Right. Anyway, the break up was messy and loud and very public. But Max was there to…comfort me.” Riley glanced away but she didn’t need to see Katherine to know the dirty smile on her face.

“Oh, I bet he comforted you real good.”

“Shut up.” She chuckled and shoved her shoulder. “I was emotional and possibly the angriest I’d ever been in my life and we were both so drunk.” She paused, the memories of that night swirling in her mind. “And he was uncharacteristically complimentary and I dove mouth-first into him.”

“As one does when angry, drunk, and complimented.” She gave an exaggerated, understanding nod. “I assume Blondie didn’t mind that, though.” Riley snorted.

“No, definitely not.” She worried her lip between her teeth. “He had me pinned to a wall with my top off in approximately 8 seconds flat.”

“While drunk? Impressive.”

“It was. But nothing serious really came of it.” Boy did that feel like a lie coming out of her mouth. “The summer after that party, we fooled around from time to time and it was fantastic but he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend and I wasn’t looking to rush into a new relationship.” She paused before wincing. “But then Paul moved to town from Oregon at the start of the school year and that just kind of happened really quickly, and Max and I just went back to being friends like nothing ever happened.”

“Nothing? Really?” Katherine raised a dubious brow. “I’m supposed to believe that you, Queen of Serious Relationships, managed to play this totally cool and never brought it up again? Just seamlessly moved back to being his friend without even discussing it?”

“You know, this may come as a surprise to you, but, as a the lead actress in a tv show, I’m actually capable of doing a little bit of acting when it suits me.”

“Babe, our show was on the CW, that’s not always a given.” Katherine bit back a cheeky grin and Riley smacked her shoulder with the back of her hand. “Okay, well then you’re trying to tell me that you got all flustered back there over a guy you slept with a decade ago?” She demanded, savoring the last bite of yogurt on her spoon. Riley scoffed.

“First of all, I was not flustered. I just…didn’t expect to see him today, that’s all.”

“Mm almost like his sudden appearance caught you off guard and you were…” She waved her spoon from side to side with her cadence, leaving space for Riley to fill in the word ‘flustered’ herself but she just rolled her eyes.

“I wasn’t flustered. And besides, I’ve slept with him more recently than a decade ago.” Her tight, restrained smile had Katherine leaning in closer for more details. “I mean, Paul and I didn’t last forever, and Max is just…so good at comforting people.” She could feel the color rising to her cheeks and tried to will it back down.

“Against all laws of the universe.”

“But that turned into kind of a pattern for us." Riley's tone shifted, the reality of her relationship with Max now laid out clearly in her mind. "I would date a guy, then when we broke up, I’d always end up back in Max’s bed. It didn’t take more than a couple of times before he started knowing to expect me." She winced, wetting her lips with a sigh. "It stopped being something he pretended didn’t happen and started being something to tease me about when it looked like my current relationship was running its course." And by the end, something he actively encouraged, but that was a can of worms she couldn’t stand to open. "But every time was always better than the last. Like he was rebooting my internal settings.”

“Ohhhh.” Katherine tsked as if she had figured her out. “He was your palate cleanser.”

“Excuse me?” Riley raised an exasperated brow.

“Your palate cleanser. You know, the guy that’s fantastic in bed but undateable - perfect for a good screw between relationships. Clears the lingering bad taste of your last relationship out and gets you ready to move on to the next guy!”

“Isn’t that just a rebound?” She rolled her eyes and Katherine pointed a spoon in her direction, accusingly.

“Not if you use the same guy every time!”

“Now you’re just making this up.”

“Don’t I wish, babe! But you’d know that if you ever looked at the newsletters I send you.” But Katherine was already laughing. Riley tried to bury her face in her salad. It felt a little rude to Max but it did hit the nail on the head. He had been more than that, though, hadn’t he? “You know, you’re probably due for a good palate cleansing right about now, aren’t you?” Riley recoiled at the implication.

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, babe, you broke up with Lucas three months ago. It’s time to move on; you know he has.” Her expression was sympathetic but it had Riley's face burning red. The split from Lucas was nasty and she honestly hadn’t finished mourning it. Four years was a long time to be with someone - especially when it ends like that.

“It’s not that easy.” She protested but she could see Katherine's objection playing on her lips. “Besides, you don’t understand. Getting involved with Max again…that’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous how? You’re not ‘getting involved’ with him. You’re having one night of shameless sex.” She looked bored and Riley spluttered for an explanation that made sense of the jumbled feelings in her gut.

“He’s got this pull over me.” She knew that sounded melodramatic but it was out her mouth before she could stop it. “You don’t know what it was like before we stopped talking a few years ago.” Shaking her head, she leaned back in the uncomfortable folding chair. “I can’t control myself when he’s involved. I honestly probably shouldn’t even go with him for a drink tonight.”

“What, exactly, is the worst that could happen? You have one fun-filled night that helps you forget about your sorry excuse for an ex boyfriend, then don’t see him for another five years?" Katherine offered but Riley was just shaking her head. "You’re both so busy now - I mean you didn’t run into him in all these years without even trying to avoid him. I think you’ll be okay.”

But she was wrong about that. It was no coincidence that they hadn't seen each other in four years. Riley had put a decent effort into avoiding him. For four years, any time she was back home, it was peering around corners at the grocery store, and cutting short her runs through her parents' neighborhood at the sight of a car his color. When she cut ties it was a hard cut, and it was meant to be for good.

“I make bad decisions when he’s involved. Do things that I shouldn’t and normally wouldn't ever consider.”

“Oh," Katherine grimaced, "like anal? Been there. Good dick will do that to you.”

“No, like cheating on Jonah.” Riley winced.

“Oh, my god!” Her eyes bulged and she dropped her spoon onto the table with a clatter. “Is that why you and Jonah broke up?" She shoved Riley's shoulder hard and she swayed back in her chair. Jonah was her boyfriend before Lucas and was, as most of her family and friends would attest, a rotten son-of-a-bitch. Much like the majority of the boys she had dated. "You never told me that! You can be a bad girl!”

“Don’t sound so proud of me." Her scowl was not intimidating but Katherine tried valiantly not to laugh. "Its probably the single thing on this planet that I feel the most guilty about.” Tightly contested by her decision to cut Max out of her life, but she couldn’t verbalize that even if she wanted to. “I didn’t make it more than 24 hours without breaking down, confessing to him.”

“Please don’t lose sleep over it. Jonah earned that. Not like he was exactly the best boyfriend.” She was putting it mildly, mostly because she knew it wasn't worth the argument with Riley.

“But he didn’t deserve that. I should know. And I should’ve known better, but I wasn’t thinking straight because I can’t think straight when Max is around! Which is why I really shouldn’t be around him anymore. It’s too dangerous.” She was working herself up now and could hear it in her own voice. Spinning out about Max was her specialty, though; yet another reason to add to the list.

“Well I don’t think you’re in any danger of cheating on your boyfriend right now, so what exactly are you afraid of?” Katherine demanded, leaning her chin on her hand, propped up on the table. Riley shuttered a sigh, rolling her head back in an attempt to find the words. She was a jumbled mess and her feelings about her friendship with Max were a tangled web right in the center of it all.

“I just can’t go through it again." She said finally. "Not long after I started dating Lucas, he found out about what happened with Max while I was with Jonah. He told me he wasn’t comfortable with me being friends with Max anymore…and it sucked but I understood. If the tables had been turned, I probably wouldn’t have felt comfortable either." It was a very large simplification of a long, disaster of a night but that story was just going to unravel a whole yarn she didn’t have the heart to spin. But her brain was nagging her to admit the not-so-insignificant factor that weighed in her decision. "Plus, I was starting to feel a little out of control when it came to Max. I never wanted to say no when it came to him and that was a dangerous game to play. So I told him we couldn’t talk anymore." She glanced down at the table, pushing food around on her plate. "It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and I couldn’t talk to Lucas about it but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I am just finally reaching a point where I don’t think about him constantly; it took me four years to stop thinking about him all the time. If I dip my toe back in there now, I might drown.”

Daring a glimpse at Katherine, she braced for the worse. She hadn't intended to divulge that much of the inner monologue of hundreds of sleepless nights spent thinking about him. They hadn't even touched on the layers of guilt that had built up over time, or the time she drunk dialed him and left a horrible voicemail that she only remembered pieces of. But the look on Katherine's face was much worse than she expected - it was sympathy and concern and much gentler than she'd been a few minutes ago.

“Babe, no one’s dick is that magical." She shook her head softly, brows drawn. "It...kind of sounds like you were in love with him.” Riley's wild scoff did nothing to assuage her.

“That’s insane.” Riley spluttered through a laugh that was distinctly outside of her vocal register. “I definitely wasn’t in love with him. If you knew him better, you’d understand why that’s just not possible.” She shook her head with another alien laugh, and she could see the way it was making Katherine look at her but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Like… he was my best friend, but he was insufferable. Like one of the most annoying people that most people have ever met. I definitely wasn’t in love with him.”

“Riley, I knew he was insufferable the moment he started talking." Katherine stressed and Riley's face fell slightly, her firm wall of denial crumbling before her eyes. "And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him for four years? Sounds like more than just a palate cleanser to me.”

“No, I mean we were friends! I cared about him. Like I care about you!" Her voice was veering on manic as she pointed to Katherine. "So, I guess, I mean, maybe you could make the stretch that I loved him. Like I love you. But I definitely wasn’t in love with him. That’s just not possible.” Oh, she did not like the way Katherine was looking at her. That concern and sympathy only growing with every passing minute. “I just missed my friend. That’s all.” She said finally, like it would undo all the word vomiting she just did.

“You know, I’m starting to think maybe you shouldn’t go for that drink with him tonight.” Katherine sat back in her seat, pursing her lips.

“What? Why would you say that? I thought you said I needed my palate cleansed!” Riley's stomach turned anxiously and she tried to mentally tamp down whatever emotion had made that happen. It was the same thing she had been trying to convince Katherine of just a few minutes ago but the way she was presenting it now was setting off pins and needles throughout Riley’s skin.

“Yeah but this guy isn’t a good palate cleanser." She shook her head and Riley let out an indignant puff of breath. "A palate cleanser needs to be undateable. Otherwise things get messy. Clearly that was the problem here.”

“Aren’t you listening? Max is undateable!”

“No,” Katherine clarified, slowing down, “Max didn’t want a girlfriend when he was 15. Max is now a grown ass man and you don’t know what he wants.”

“I mean, first of all, he isn’t just undateable because he doesn’t want a girlfriend. He’s undateable because of the whole…insufferable thing." She waved her hand in the air in front of them. "And second, it wasn’t just when he was 15; Max just isn’t the dating type. I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend. Not since high school. The second he realized he could hook up with girls without dating them, he never looked back.” But Katherine’s lips were pressed into a thin line, brows drawn as she studied her. She looked long and hard and Riley swallowed back the nerves gathering in her throat. Finally, she held her hands up in defeat, though Riley wasn’t sure what exactly had convinced her.

“Alright, fair enough. You would know better than I would, right?” Her voice didn’t sound all that convinced but Riley nodded steadfastly, brows still drawn slightly in confusion. This was fine, right? She wasn’t planning to sleep with him anyway, but, even if she did, she wasn’t in love with him so she should be fine. Right? Those were the rules…

“Trust me, he’s not a problem.” Now, if nothing else, she needed to go to convince herself. But, really, what was the worst that could happen?

———————

Max traced the pad of his thumb around the mostly empty glass of beer in front of him. He glanced around the room, then back down at his watch, foot tapping on the metallic rod along the bottom of the bar. He tossed back the remainder of his drink, desperate to silence the voice in the back of his head that told him she wasn’t coming. A finger waved in the air brought the bartender over for a refill.

He knew he was pushing his luck by trying to get her to come out. She had been plenty clear a few years ago but that look on her face when he said her name earlier boosted his ego enough to push. Now, though, he was wondering if it had been a mistake to give her this much time to reconsider. She hadn’t exactly jumped at the chance anyway.

He took another sip of the beer. It was 25 minutes past when she said she would meet him and it was getting harder to argue with that voice in his head. But then the door jingled and his head snapped to her, shaking the rain from her hair in the doorway. There were nerves visibly dancing across her face but she was here and that was all he could bring himself to care about. That, and the fact that her damp dress was bordering on sheer now as it clung to her body. It hadn’t been raining when he came in but, shit, was he glad it had started now.

Doing his best attempt at looking like he wasn’t just desperately watching the door, waiting for her, he turned back to the bar. The bartender was watching him, amused, eyes flicking back to her.

“Don’t you say a fucking thing about how long I’ve been here.” Max hissed under his breath. The bartender pursed his lips with a knowing nod. Waiting another few seconds, Max dared a glance back to see her searching around for him.

“Hey! Over here!” The bartender shouted over the noise. Turning in a swivel, Max glared at him as he waved an exaggerated hand overhead. “Your little buddy has been waiting around for you all night like some sad puppy.” The vein in Max’s head bulged. He sucked at his teeth, trying to tamp his irritation before turning back to her.

“Shit, I’m sorry! I am late, aren’t I? I hope you weren’t waiting too long.” Riley ignored the wild, tangling knot that was growing in her stomach.

“No! I literally just got here.” He lied through his teeth. “This guy is just screwing with me because I didn’t want to try the shitty homemade beer he made in his moms basement.” She gave him a dubious look but he waved her off before she could question it. “Come sit down.”

She hesitated for a moment, just like she did before stepping through the door a minutes ago. Her brain was shooting out warning signs left and right but her feet brought her up onto the bar stool beside him without regard. She gave the bartender an apologetic look for enduring what was probably not Max on his best behavior, then ordered a tequila sunrise.

“Tequila? Still? Are we 17?” Max teased her and she stifled a smile.

“I’ll need at least three more of these if I’m going to put up with you all night.” But she was all smiles and he had missed that attitude. He had missed her. A lot more than he wanted to admit.

“Oh, you’re spending the whole night with me, are you? All this time and you still just want me for one thing.” He grinned his Cheshire grin and she scoffed, ignoring the pangs in her chest.

“That is not what I meant!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.” He watched her sip at her drink. She was too good to be true, right here in front of him again. Her cheeks were dotted with color, a few strands of wet hair clinging to her face, and it took all his restraint not to reach over and brush them aside.

“You’re all too pleased that I need a full bottle of tequila to sleep with you.”

“Hey, no shame in my game, baby.” He winked and savored the way color flooded across her cheeks before she laughed, shaking her head.

“Lots of shame, actually. Like, an astounding amount of shame.” She shook her head, unable to wipe the smile off her face. Why was it that she never could stop smiling when he was around? God, she wished she could stop.

“Please, like you’re one to talk, Captain Clarissa of the Star Cadets.” He referenced her long running character, trying to match his tone to the show's narrator with a condescending smirk and she flipped him off.

“Excuse you! Captain Clarissa is an inspiration! She is the youngest captain to ever land on Gorkula!”

“First of all, gross. Why would anyone want to land on a planet that sounds like the epicenter of venereal diseases?" He pretended to gag and she rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. "Second of all, you crash landed there after flying head on into an asteroid." He paused, rolling his hands out in example. "Shame.” She tried not to acknowledge the well of warmth that grew in her chest, knowing he had been watching enough to know that.

“Coming from the guy that puts sweaty balls in his face for a living!” She shot back and Max sprung forward in his seat, mouth gaping.

“Hey! I am the youngest world champion in this company’s history!” He pointed wildly at her and she took an unimpressed sip of her drink.

“Wow, the world champion of sweaty balls. Your parents must be so proud that their boy was the youngest guy to ever get all the sweaty balls in his face.” She delighted in the way his face turned almost purple, veins threatening to burst any moment.

“I have not put all their balls-" He stopped short, smoothing a hand over his hair and taking a breath, "I mean I haven’t even wrestled most of the guys in the locker room.” Riley stifled a laugh, training her face into a sympathetic frown.

“So…you mean…you don’t even really deserve to be the Sweaty Balls Champion?" She pouted slightly, brows knit. "Jeez, Maxie, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize things were so dire.”

“God, you are such a little punk.” He muttered, tongue pressed to his cheek, and her expression melted into a fond smile that he got trapped in.

“That’s what you always told me.”

“You haven’t changed.” There was a tender charge in the air, his knee bumping hers with an electric fizzle. Her gaze drifted momentarily to his lips before she caught herself, finishing off her drink in an attempt to right herself. She gave herself a desperate, pleading reminder that this was just nostalgia but it slid down the walls of her brain without a bit of it sticking.

“You don’t think Hollywood has corrupted me yet?” She tilted her head indulgently, trying to redirect their energy elsewhere.

“Oh sweetheart, what you do isn’t Hollywood.” He teased, placing a sympathetic hand on her shoulder and they both pretended they didn't feel the rush it caused. She scoffed, catching the bartender’s eye, and he nodded.

“Man, Max, I can always count on you to be my biggest cheerleader.”

“Oh shit, my bad, babe. You wanted cheerleader Max? You got it.” He faced her head on, gripping both her shoulders more sturdily. “Riley, from the bottom of my heart," His head dipped down so his eyes were on her level, "your tits are fantastic.”

“Shut up!” She coughed a laugh as she pulled out of his grip to face the bar again.

“I really genuinely mean it, Ry. Just looking at them would make any guy wanna-“ He stopped to mime a vulgar, exaggerated version of motorboating her. Stifling a laugh, she smacked his shoulder, but it didn’t stop him. She took a sip of the newly refilled drink in front of her.

“I really can’t stand you.” She said as if he couldn’t hear her laughing. As he finally stopped, she shook her head with a smile that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Teeth scraping across her lip, she relaxed back in her chair, and into the familiar rhythm they had. He wet his lips, taking a sip from his beer, not taking his eyes off her.

“But lets be real," Max’s voice dropped to that low gravel that he knew frazzled her brain, and her eyes flashed up to him, "We both know I corrupted you way before Hollywood ever had a chance.”

She had forgotten just how heady it could be to be around him - the air heavy with bad decisions waiting to be made. Taking a breath, she focused on her drink, steadying herself with a stern reminder of the thousand reasons she shouldn't go there again. But, god, something about that insufferable asshole...

"You know, I thought that honor was reserved for the guy that took my virginity." She took a pointed sip of her drink and he snorted so loud it drew attention from the people in the corner table.

"Please, that right is forfeit if the guy has a micropenis."

"He did not have a micropenis!" Riley gaped.

"I was on the football team with him, babe. The guy was microscopic!" He held his fingers up, squinting between the small space between them.

"He was a grower, not a show-er!" She said a little too loud and he snickered. The bartender shot her a look and she shrank back in her seat.

Max's smug expression fell when she kicked his shin hard. In an instant, a familiar heat blared behind his eyes. His tongue smoothed across the front of his teeth, fingers twitching at his side, begging to be buried in her hair, gripping just hard enough for her to tip her head back with that spacey, wide-eyed look. He shook that image out of his head, smoothing a hand over his thigh to release the pent up energy.

"Okay, fine, then he doesn't count because he's a dickhead." He said with finality but she raised her brows at him, holding her tongue, waiting for him to draw his own conclusion from her silence. "Oh, shut up. He's a way bigger dickhead than me."

"Very close call but, yeah, he was pretty bad." She said, lips drawn into a tight smile.

"I mean, he cheated on you. Who cheats on you?" He gestured handily at her and her cheeks burned. "Like other girls, for sure, whatever, go to town. But you? Nah, that's clown behavior." Max watched with a grin as she spluttered into her drink, laughing. "See, I can be a cheerleader." She breathed a chuckle and cocked her head to the side.

"But haven't you heard? Cheating asshole is my type, apparently." She meant it as a joke but winced at the way it came out much more self-pitying. Max's smile melted away into a more serious expression, a real anger tinged just behind his eyes now.

"Yeah, I heard about Lucas and the intern..." He wasn't sure what to say. There were a million jumbled thoughts racing through his mind. Most of them wrapped in at least one layer of anger.

"Interns." She corrected. "Three of them. And two recurring guest stars, 1 extra, and the producer." Oh, pathetic didn't begin to cover the way she felt. Stupid and pathetic and oblivious.

TMZ didn't pull any punches when they splashed her face across the internet; along with a leaked audio clip of a moment that was meant to be private, hidden behind the sound stage, recorded and posted for every stranger in the world to see. Every sordid detail laid out plain as day, along with Lucas' stinging remarks about her after he'd been caught red handed. The humiliation had piled up higher than she could see.

"Most of them weren't even hot." He braced for a smack on the shoulder but she only laughed, almost relieved that she didn’t have to withstand his pity. Taking a long sip from her cocktail, she leaned across the space between them to lay her head on his shoulder. It was firmer than she remembered but just as electric as ever.

"Redhead intern?" She suggested and his lips curled up, past where she could see.

"Man, see, you even have good taste in women. Who cheats on a girl with good taste in women when the option for a threesome is right there?" He said and she chuckled, reaching up to blindly smack at his chest. Smoothing his free hand over her hair, he craned his neck to kiss the top of her head. "I really am sorry, Ry. He's a piece of shit and I swear I really almost tracked him down to beat his ass when I heard what happened." He murmured the words into her hair, the vibration settling deep in her chest. "You were always too good for him anyway." She hummed, quiet as that familiar gnawing burrowed its way back to the surface. Finally, she pulled back and Max cursed the way it left him feeling cold. Even more so when he saw the expression she had, guilt etched into every line of her face.

"Max, I'm really sorry about what happened a few years ago. I never should have let him make decisions about our friendship."

He recoiled slightly. He probably should have seen this coming but he felt blindsided none-the-less. It took everything in him to stop thinking about that last conversation they had. Took months before that hollow feeling even started to fade. There was a noticeable falter in his expression but he hid behind his beer until it was contained. He had been wanting to confront her about this for so many years now but they were finally enjoying themselves and he didn't want emotions he had been trying to keep buried to stop that.

"It's fine. I wasn't losing sleep over it." His tone was clipped but she knew him better than that.

"It's not fine. It was shitty and I'm sorry." Her face was so genuine, it made his stomach hurt. Dragging a hand through his hair and disrupting the style that his 15-hour old gel had kept it in, he blew out a breath.

"Fine, if you won't drop this, can I just ask..." He hesitated, trying to speak carefully but the word just tumbled out of his mouth regardless. "Why?"

"Why won't I drop it? I mean - "

"No, why did you choose him over me?" The silence that fell between them was physically painful but the face she made was even worse - the guilt and pity was too much for Max to stomach. "I swear to god, if you don't stop with the fucking puppy dog face, I will walk out of here." They both knew he was full of crap but it was enough to wipe the expression from her face.

"That's not...I didn't mean for it to feel like I chose him over you."

"Well I'm not sure how else you thought it would feel. Mr. Thespian said 'its me or him' and you didn't hesitate, Riley." He was doing a poor job at masking that bitter tone that desperately wanted to take hold. She shrank back a little.

"I thought he was the one..." Quiet and sheepish and still feeling so, so stupid. But they both know it was more complicated than that. "I really thought I was going to marry him, Max." He scoffed, though, and caught her off guard. Those emotions were bubbling over in his gut and his ability to reign it back was slipping away.

"Look, I'm not stupid, Ry. I knew one day you were gonna meet someone that stuck and we would have to stop fooling around. I knew I was never going to be the guy but for fucks sake, I thought our friendship was a non-negotiable."

"I...I..." She stammered but came up empty. That night was so heated and she was so angry with him for so many things that clouded her judgement.

"I always figured that you would think any guy that wanted me out of your life wasn't worth being with in the first place." He knew it wasn’t entirely fair. He knew she was lending him a good amount of grace by not mentioning that it was his fault that Lucas even found out about what happened with Jonah in the first place. It was complicated and the look on her face was making his stomach turn as emotion bled into her eyes. But fuck, she had always been his first choice and finding out that he wasn’t hers snapped a little piece of his soul.

"How was any guy supposed to be okay with that, Max?" Her voice was pleading for understanding. "It was one thing when we were just out of high school, fooling around when I was single, but we crossed a line with Jonah. How were we supposed to come back from that?”

"Jonah was a piece of shit." He spat the name with the venom it deserved. Never in his life had he met a more arrogant, steamrolling, belittling asshole, and that was saying something. He knew that she knew that he had been the perfect way out of a relationship she felt stuck in.

"You think every guy I ever date is a piece of shit!"

"Have you ever considered that is because you only ever date pieces of shit?" He was gesturing with his hands, voice rising again.

"That's not fair or true." She took an irritated swig of her drink, the light burn on the way down not helping matters. Finishing it off, she offered the bartender an apologetic smile and asked for another, against her better judgement.

"Okay, fine. So, what? You cut me out of your life for 'unfairly' thinking these scumbags weren't good enough for you?" His voice took a hard turn into mocking territory and he held his hands up in a faux-concession. "Sorry, my bad for giving a shit about you, I guess." His eyebrows rose and fell with his punctuation in that way that always drove her crazy. He could feel his sarcasm slipping to a cartoon-ish level but couldn't pull himself back.

"No, Max, I cut you out of my life because you actively tried to sabotage at least the last three relationships I've been in and I couldn't promise myself that I wasn't going to let it happen again!" That was the truth she had been avoiding, said loud enough for most of the thinning crowd at the bar to hear. That was what it really came down to. She couldn't trust herself with him anymore and that meant she couldn't be around him. But he rolled right past that point,

"Sabotage? Really? That's a little dramatic, even for you." He rolled his eyes and her stomach rolled with them.

A boiling anger spouted inside her at the unmitigated gall that he had to even try to pretend he hadn't done everything he could to end nearly every relationship she'd had in the last decade. From the laundry list of complaints about each and every boyfriend that got lodged in her head; to outright goading her to break up with them; to the suggestive texts he'd send her late at night; right down to that dangerous game that led to the dissolution of her relationship with Jonah. He could be relentless and he only got more brazen with each new failed relationship.

"Maybe Hollywood really is rubbing off on you." He sneered with that judgmental stare that he was so good at but always spared her from. It made her skin prickle and pushed her past the edge. If he wanted to sit here and pretend that his fight with Lucas wasn’t just the last in a long line of attempts to chase off her boyfriends, she didn’t need to stick around for it. This wasn’t in her head.

"Fuck you, Maxwell." She spat and but he wasn't finished digging.

"Yeah, why don't you, then? Lets get on with it so you can move on to finding the next scumbag to cheat on you." He saw the hurt register behind her eyes and a gnawing guilt ripped through his stomach, despite his best efforts to tamp it down. He didn't want to feel bad. He wanted to feel satisfied - if they weren't going to have a good time, at least he could win. He deserved to win after everything they had been through. But it didn't feel like he'd won.

Her eyes narrowed an almost imperceptible amount and she shook her head, brows raised. Snatching her purse from the seat back, she dug out some cash and left it on the bar top with most of her drink.

"I knew coming here was a mistake."

She hopped down from her stool and breezed out the door, into the unwelcome chill of the evening. Tucking into the narrow, scarcely lit alley beside the bar, she inhaled a shaky breath as her back melted against the brick exterior of the bar, skin buzzing from head to toe. Her chest was warm, a tingling mixture of cocktails and simmering anger. She scrubbed her hands over her face and up into her hair, closing her eyes and letting her head rest against the wall. He always knew how to shoot straight for the sore spot. Never fucking missed.

Inside the bar, Max slumped in his stool, eyes stuck on the pile of bills left on the table. Crumpled and pathetic, a sterling example of everything he had created for himself. Because he never could stop himself from digging a hole. Never could stop from pushing away anyone that threatened to make him feel something. But fuck her, she had always been the exception to the rule - the one person that was allowed past his walls - and she fucking decimated him for it.

But she wasn't wrong when she said he had sabotaged her relationships. And he knew that if he let himself actually come up with a reason why, it wouldn't take long to figure out that its because she was supposed to be his. The way they fit together - there was no way they weren't supposed to be together. That wasn't realistic, though, and he knew that more than anything.

That didn't stop her crumpled up money from staring at him, though. Reminding him that she had just walked out of his life for what was likely to be the last time. Leaving a hole that never really heals right.

Outside, she was finally starting to feel the effect of the cold's bite. The warmth of her drinks was fading away and the tips of her fingers were paying the price. She rubbed her palms up and down her legs to warm them, keeping her eyes clamped shut. She knew she should call an Uber. Just go back to the hotel and feel sorry for herself in the privacy of her own room until they were in different states and she didn't have to think about him anymore.

“You would think that someone in Hollywood would have explained to you the purpose of a jacket.” There was no mistaking that voice. Her stomach clenched, eyes fluttered open, spotting Max standing a few feet from her by the corner of the building.

“Some habits die hard.” She replied, her neutral expression not giving away a thing as it drifted off toward a spot in the distance - anywhere but to him.

“Some harder than others.” He caught her with that, her eyes blinking back to him, flickers of the street lamp overhead casting light across his face. Shrugging out of his jacket, he passed it to her but she held her hand up in protest. He ignored her protests, closing the space between them to wrap his jacket around her shoulders. She wanted to fight it but the sudden warmth, combined with way she was now flooded by his smell was too much. “I thought you left.”

“Still waiting on my Uber.” She neglected to mention she hadn’t ordered it yet. Her eyes tracked him as he came to stand in front of her.

“Ah, see, that’s why I always the follow the golden rule,” he said, “always pick a hotel that’s walking distance from the bar.” A laugh slipped out of her and the edge of his lips curled up.

“That’s a smart rule, I should really remember that.” There was a ghost of a wry smile on her face but it didn’t last. She pulled the jacket tighter around her front. “Were you waiting for me to leave?”

“Nah, I figured you were off on one of your angry power walks. I was hoping I’d catch you on the second lap.” He circled his finger in the air before tilting his head down with a sheepish smile, waiting for her to crack. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, tongue pressed against her cheek, trying not to let him do what he always did. “That was no way to say goodbye.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Her lips pursed in an almost-shrug. “Let me try again." She cleared her throat, brows furrowed in serious. "Good bye, Maxwell. Coming here was a huge mistake and I should have known better!” Her venom from earlier was gone, ending with a biting sweetness. He heaved a sigh, rolling his head back.

"Come on, we were having a good time like...a few minutes ago." His arms crossed in front of his chest and she watched the way his muscles moved under his shirt, desperate not to meet his eye. It was easier this way. Better. Her lips pressed into a tight line, hoping if she didn't argue, he would run himself out of steam. "Look, alright fine. I wasn't always very supportive of your stupid boyfriends." She crooked a brow. "Maybe, some might say, I could be a little bit of a hindrance from time to time."

“A little bit?” She clarified and he held up two fingers, squeezing them close together. "What was the text you sent me while you knew I was getting ready for my valentine's day date with Kevin a few years ago?" She watched his brows knit together before the memory dawned on him and he slowly sucked his lips into his mouth. Clearing her throat, she held out an exemplary hand. "'Hope you're excited for your date with the data analyst. Bet you can't wait for him to get you in his Toyota Camry so he can bring you back to his mom's basement for some clothes-on, lights-off sex before he turns on Jeopardy for the night.'" She carried out her best impression of him and he tried unsuccessfully to mask his amusement. She continued with a more urgent tone. "'Try not to think about that night after the concert out in Manhattan. You know, with that crowded train back to your place and my hand sliding up your skirt? If you think about the shaking orgasm you had, sitting on my lap, in front of a bunch of strangers, you might end up feeling a little dissatisfied tonight!"

"Wow, you really had that one well memorized." Was all he could manage. That one really was one of his prouder moments - it didn't take more than two weeks before she broke up with Kevin after that. And boy, did that only stroke his ego.

"Yeah, that's cause it played on repeat in my head for the entirety of my date!" She glared at him but his fond smile ensured it didn't last.

"That really was a fun night. The one and only time I've ever enjoyed public transportation."

He had nearly forgotten about that night on the train. It really felt like a turning point, when he looked back - when they stopped wanting each other and started needing each other. The point where every relationship she had after just started to feel like it was biding time until she was his again.

Max watched, in the dim light of the alleyway, as a flush rose up her chest. Her eyes met his with the hazy look he'd missed so much and he took a step closer without even realizing it; her breathing shallowed.

"Tucked in that back corner of the train car with you on my lap..." His eyes raked over her frame, covered by his bulky jacket, and she warmed head to toe. "...grinding that perfect little ass into me." Riley shifted her weight again, swallowing hard. She should have known better than to bring up that night.

"Max..." Her voice came out breathy and needy, glancing around, almost hoping there was someone else around as she felt her self control slipping away. He took a small step closer and she stepped back, against the brick wall, damp with the sporadic rain this evening.

"And you spread those legs so nice and easy for me so you could ride my thigh." His voice was low, smooth and hypnotic, she hardly even noticed as he took another step closer, his heat searing through her. Her lips, slightly swollen from the way she'd dug her teeth in, parted with a breath and his voice dropped to a gritty whisper. "Do you remember how the vibration of the train felt on your pussy? I barely had to touch you to make you fall apart for me."

He wasn't really sure what he was doing anymore but he fell back into it like it was second nature. Because it was. There was no space for him to consider his actions, there was only her and this moment and the way she was looking up at him. That look turned his brain off every time.

Then she was nodding without meaning to, and his hand cleared the little distance between them, skating up her hip, feather-light but setting fire throughout her body.

"My lips were on your neck, listening for every little whine you tried so hard to keep quiet while I helped you rock against me." His hand skimmed along the curve of her waist, helping rock her into him, just like he did back then. "Do you think anybody heard that sweet little noise you made when I reached under your skirt, pushed your panties aside, and sank two fingers into your cunt?"

The shuttered breath Riley released came out closer to a whimper and Max's eyes fluttered closed, resting his forehead against hers for just a few moments. God, those noises did something to him. His fingers found purchase around her hip, the other hand cradling her jaw. Eyes locking with hers, he smoothed his thumb across her cheek, brushing her lips. Without a thought, she took his finger into her mouth, not breaking his eye contact as she ran her tongue over it like she had a million times. Max groaned, the noise vibrating through her, and his eyes blazed with a scarcely contained lust.

"Riley..." It was a rumble of a warning. He dragged his thumb out of her mouth, across her bottom lip, trailing it down her chin, then back up across her lips before finally pulling it away. She watched a war rage behind his eyes, fingers digging into her side so tight she thought it might bruise. In an instant, her brain came slamming back into her head and she jerked away from him.

"Shit." She muttered, running a shaky hand through her hair. "Fucking shit, you see?" She took several skittering steps away from him. "How do you do that to me? I came out here to leave but instead, I take one look at you and become some brain-dead whore."

"Wait, Riley..." He took a step in her direction but quickly stopped himself, watching as she steered herself in circles. She stopped as abruptly as she started and snapped toward him.

“No, I really shouldn’t be here. I need to go.” She was looking a bit like a caged animal so Max took a big step back, holding his hands up in front of him.

“Your Uber is bound to be here soon. Just-“

“I never ordered it. I’m just gonna walk I think. I could use the air.” She breezed past him out of the alleyway. He sat back on his heel, stunned for a moment before jogging after her.

“I’m not just gonna let you walk back alone.” He said, catching up to her without much trouble. She didn’t look at him.

“I’m fine, it’s only like a thirty minute walk. I’ll be fine.” She powered ahead, trying to get some distance but his legs moved him a lot faster than she could outpace. He just rolled his eyes.

“Alone and slightly drunk? At midnight? In a town that’s currently flooded with your fanboys? Please. That’s literal suicide.” He circled around in front of her. She tried to step around him but he stepped in her path, then again in the other direction. Finally, she stopped, rolling her eyes.

“You’re the one most likely to try to have sex with me out here.” She put a hand on her hip and Max shook his head, tongue pressed against his teeth. Always a fight with her.

“Stop being ridiculous. I swear-” he crossed two fingers over his heart, “-I will be on my best behavior. But I am not letting you walk back alone.” She hesitated, arms crossed over her chest, looking around at the dimly-lit, hotel lined street they were on. It was at least thirty straight minutes of bars and booked-solid convention hotels between here and her hotel. One she’d chosen specifically because she wanted to stay away from the action.

“Fine but I want you to stay six feet away from me at all times.” She shooed him back with her hands. He sat back on his heel, narrowing his brows at her with an irritated purse of his lips.

“You can’t be be serious.”

“Deadly. I am trying to get some space from you and you’re following me. So if you want to stick around, get back.” She jut her chin out and Max swiped his tongue across the inside of his lip with irritation.

“You’re such a pain in my ass. I should just let the mouth breathers at you.”

“At least they’d have respect for Captain Clarissa.” She said, mostly because she enjoyed being a pain in his ass, and started the long walk, past him, to her hotel. He just rolled his eyes, following after her at the agreed upon distance.

“Yeah, that’s the quality to look for in the strange, sweaty man that finds you wandering the streets alone.” It came out huffy and irritated but she didn’t so much as acknowledge him. “So you never ordered an Uber, hmm?” He knew that smug tone would get a reaction out of her and it did, her face snapping back to him for just a second. “You just stormed out of the bar all upset and then waited for me to come find you?”

Her face burned red and she was glad he couldn’t see her. She wasn’t entirely sure why she didn’t call the Uber. She knew it needed to happen. She wanted to go home but her fingers just didn’t want to move. Paralyzed by the way their conversation in the bar had gone.

“Even when I took over five minutes to come out? You just sat there, still not ordering the Uber?” He taunted and she kept her head trained forward. “How long were you gonna wait for me? If I stayed until close, would you still have been sitting there, waiting to put my fingers in your mouth?” He heard her sharp intake of breath and counted that as a victory. “God, you must have really missed me to sit out in the cold with no jacket, hoping I’d chase after you.”

“Jesus Christ,” she groaned. “I forgot how much you like to hear yourself talk.” But he continued like she hadn’t said a thing. He wasn’t hearing a refute and that was causing a pang of excitement in his gut.

“You know, I feel like this really starts to call into question everything you’ve said tonight.” He kept poking because he couldn’t help himself and she considered flinging herself into traffic to escape him. “Like, maybe I’m the one that’s really in danger, being out here alone with you. Who knows what you could do to my precious body?”

“I thought you said you were going to be on your best behavior.” She tried to remind him, knowing it was ultimately useless.

“That was before I realized just how dangerous you were. Laying in wait for me, making up stories about Ubers that don’t exist. Were you even really a guest at that convention? How do I know this wasn’t some elaborate ruse to stage your little meet cute with me?”

“I’m pretty sure a meet cute requires us to be ‘meeting’, Max. And, as you’ll remember, we’ve met before.” She really was trying not to give in to his teasing. Because that was a slippery slope. But it was a slope she was already on.

“Maybe we haven’t! Maybe you’re not even Riley, just some hot clone looking to steal my perfect organs. Do you even really work for the CW or is that a lie too?” He gestured in the air behind her. Her steps faltered, though, quiet ringing out into the night around them.

“I don’t, actually. Not as of next week.” Her voice was strained but she put her focus back into moving forward.

“What are you talking about?” Max didn’t miss that shift in her tone. She’d been bordering on playful before but this was different. It was the tone she’d used when she told him they couldn’t talk anymore.

“They cancelled my show.”

“What?” His heart dropped out of his chest and, without realizing, he upped his pace until he fell in line with her. She didn’t stop him, though - even when his fingers grazed hers, the frizzle of lightning shooting up her arm.

“Yup. They had to fire Lucas because of…well because of the interns.” She gestured at nothing, still trying to come to grips with the reality herself, “And according to the network executives, the inspiring Captain Clarissa is - and I quote - ‘fundamentally unlikable without her boyfriend’.” There was no amount of venom that could come close to touching the level of anger she was feeling.

It had been weeks since she learned the show was being cancelled but that burning, sweltering rage hadn’t ebbed. She knew the show couldn’t last forever - hell, she didn’t want it to! But having it be cancelled like this - over him. It was more than she could stand.

“Are you fucking kidding? That’s bullshit!” He didn’t think it was possible for him to hate Lucas more but this did it.

“Not kidding at all. Apparently, it wasn’t enough that I had to lose my boyfriend in the most embarrassing scandal of the year, I also needed to lose my job. Karma decided to punch me square in the throat.” She had been using karma as an excuse for nearly every bad thing that happened to her since she cut ties with Max, though. It didn’t seem possible for the scales to tip back in her favor at this point. It was all earned. “They said it was better to cut their losses now than to waste money on a full season flop.” She hadn't been able to chase those words out of her head. Every second of that phone call with her team was seared into her brain.

“Please, Ry, that’s not karma at work, that’s a bunch of old, out-of-touch morons, actively steering a bankrupt network into the ground. Fuck those dudes.” He insisted but she just kicked a rock along the road, unable to look at him. “How have I not heard about this?”

“They wanted to wait until after the convention to make the announcement. Wouldn’t want to risk losing out on wringing me out for every last penny.” Yeah, she was feeling a little bitter about it. That wasn’t something she could hide anymore. This convention today just felt like salt in the wound.

“God, that’s such horseshit.” There was nothing he could say to lessen this, though. “I’m so sorry, Ry.”

“It’s just so dumb because like…I really thought I was doing something here, you know?” She sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. After weeks of staying quiet, the rockslide of feelings was already barely restrained. “Like sure, the writing was cheesy and the plots could be convoluted but I was doing something that meant something. I was creating a character for little girls to look up to. But god, I was so stupid and naive. Just like I was with Lucas. Because I was never the independent, ass kicking, trail blazer I thought I was. I was apparently just the stuffy bitch to his maverick.” She dared a glance at Max, his face drawn and serious. She didn’t mean to say that much; she never could stop from spilling everything around him, though.

“You were literally the only watchable part of that show.” He cut off her pity fest as if it was an indisputable fact. “The dude was a pathetic, Han Solo wannabe when it was fucking obvious that you were meant to be the Solo of the show.” It pained him to make a Star Wars reference but that look on her face was totally worth it. Her feet almost skittered to a stop before she caught herself.

“God, see?” She groaned. “Where were you when I tried to explain that to my producers?”

"Look, if those assholes didn't get what you were doing with that character then they don't deserve either of you. This show might have been your big break but I can seriously promise you that it's not your peak. You're just gettin' started." Max bumped her shoulder lightly and the smile that crept up her face was involuntary.

"So just like you then, right?" She raised a brow in his direction and he hummed. "AEW is just your launch pad, so i've heard." He smoothed his tongue over his lip, curious as to just how much she had been paying attention to his career. "For the - let me see if I've got this right - 'bidding war of 2024'?" A warmth bloomed in rippling tides low in his stomach at hearing his words parroted back.

"You know it, baby. Nowhere to go but up." He pointed to the sky and she rolled her eyes with a smile. "Didn't realize you watched much wrestling these days." He did his best to sound like he was teasing her but she could hear the hope in his voice. Tilting her head, she scrunched her nose and shrugged.

"From time to time." She said. "You know, if there's someone cool scheduled to be on." Holding his gaze for a charged moment, she finally dropped it back to the sidewalk, the rolling wave of nerves making its way up to her brain. She cleared her throat, trying to shake off that feeling. "And boy, I just can't wait for my boy, Ricky Starks, to get that world title off the current Jabroni that's got it- what a star!" She choked a laugh at the guffawing noise Max made.

"Riley, there are some levels of disrespect that are just unacceptable." He deadpanned and she tried to keep a straight face.

"I'm sorry, Max, but Ricky is so obviously the best professional wrestler on God's green Earth. How could I not root for him to get the title?" Her tongue poked out between her teeth and the muscles in his face twitched.

"God, you are such a brat." Worried he would end up relegated to six feet away again, he tried not to verbalize the way he wanted to take her back to his room and remind her what he did with brats. But the way she beamed back at him only made him want to say it more, knowing exactly how quickly that smile would fade into that lust-addled gape - that kind he had convinced himself she only got for him.

"You love it." The response rolled off her tongue as easily as it always did and it wasn't until she recognized that look he was giving her that she realized she was feeding the monster. A small breath hissed through her teeth.

The world around them was quiet, the street largely emptied out as more bars began to close. Their pace had slowed to an amble, stealing glances at each other, daring themselves not to drift closer. She tried not to dwell on the way Max didn't respond - or on the way his expression did plenty of responding all on its own. It had been a long time since she'd been looked at like that - like she was the center of the universe and he'd never be able to fight the pull of her gravity.

"For whatever it’s worth, I’m really proud of you, Max.” It was worth a lot. So much so that he had to look away. His mouth was dry and he was a little nauseous - fuck he hated that she was still capable of making him feel like this. He wasn't the bumbling kid trying to make his best friend really see him anymore. At least, he wasn't supposed to be.

"Ahh, shut up, ya softie." He scoffed after a beat too long. Long enough for her to catch that glint in his eyes. She raised her brows for an unspoken emphasis and he rolled his eyes but let slip a reluctant smile that told her everything she needed to know.

"I know, I know, my credibility as an uncaring hardass is in shambles." She bit back the huge grin that tried to surface at his genuine laugh. "But I'm serious. You really did the damn thing and not many people can say that."

"You can." He held her gaze steadily and she toyed with her lip between her teeth. Blinking hard, she finally shook her head with a breathy laugh.

"Hmm, you're right. Guess it's just Long Island that's special, not you." She tilted her head with an indulgent smile and he waved her off.

"Hey, screw you, we can both be special!"

"Yeah, are you Long Island's special-est boy, Maxie?" She poked the beast with a little pout. He groaned, his entire head rolling right along with his eyes. He'd swear she was a brat on purpose, knowing he couldn't do a damn thing about it, but she was starting to give him whiplash.

"Oh, you are so asking for it." He grumbled under his breath but that twinkle of mischief in her eye told him she'd heard.

"Asking for what, Prince Maxie?" She teasingly bit the tip of her tongue.

Max's restraint snapped, unable to physically stop himself from reaching back to swat her ass. Riley squeaked, jumping slightly, letting out an offended huff of breath and coming to a full stop on the sidewalk. She smacked his chest, brows drawn in a laughable excuse for anger. He lowered his head a little, raising a brow, mildly amused.

"You can't do that!" It came out sounding a lot more petulant than she intended. But the wake up call that smack had given her wasn't the one she'd hoped for - it had only stoked the flames she was so desperately trying to keep at bay.

"You know the rules - calling me 'Maxie' is automatic grounds for a spanking." He shrugged as if to say he didn't make the rules that he had, in fact, very much made.

"Those rules don't apply anymore!" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hey, don't be a brat if you can't handle the consequences." He said with finality, starting back on their walk towards the hotel. "I'm trying to behave but you know what you're doing!"

She couldn't even deny it. She couldn't stop falling back into their rhythm. It might not have been intentional but there was no use in pretending she wasn't doing the same things she always knew could rile him up. With a groan, she jogged to catch up with him but her foot snagged on a crack in the sidewalk and she stumbled, arms flying out to keep herself upright. Max turned back with a snicker but offered her a shoulder to steady herself on.

"You know, I'm starting to think your definition of 'walkable' is different from mine." She groaned, pulling off her shoe and snatching the heel that had snapped off from the ground, holding them up to him.

"Hey, my hotel is only another two blocks. You're the one that wants to keep walking another ten beyond that to your hotel." He reminded her and she shivered, that reality settling in with her. The thought alone made her feet throb and she thought she felt a raindrop hit her head. Max knew that look and recognized it well from a few too many times she'd overestimated her ability to get around in heels. And she was starting to become acutely aware of how much Max's jacket did not help keep her legs warm under her dress.

Oh, how she didn't want to have to ask him for help. But she needed help. She couldn't walk ten blocks in a broken heel in the middle of the night by herself. That was insane - she knew that. And she should have just called an uber. She knew she should just call an uber. But for the second time that night, she couldn't will herself to reach for her phone.

"Come back to my room with me." Max said and heat raced through her veins. "I have a pair of sneakers up there you can take. I'll even walk you to your hotel after." She wanted to hit herself over the pang of disappointment she felt when she realized he wasn't inviting her to stay with him. Doubly so over the way she suddenly missed the feeling of falling asleep in his arms. Warm and content and secure and...

"I..."

"Come on, you can't walk back like that. I swear, I'll keep my hands to myself." He locked eyes with her and she nodded; it was all she could manage. "Good, hop on." He turned away from her and patted his back. She froze and he twisted to look back at her. "What are you waiting for? We got two more blocks to my hotel and I'd like to get back before sunrise."

Wetting her lips, she weighed the option of walking back on her broken heel before reluctantly climbing onto his back. Her dress rode up her legs and Max's hands found purchase, curled around the underside of her thighs, supporting her, heat searing through his fingertips, straight to her core.

"So much for hands to yourself." She muttered.

"I'm sorry, would you rather I drop your ass?" He tried to crane his head back to look at her.

"You wouldn't dare." She knew the second it left her mouth that it was a bad idea. He didn't hesitate before letting her legs go and she clung hard around his neck, nails digging into skin and feet scrambling to get hold around his waist.

"Ow, shit!" He swatted hard at her thigh before resuming his hold on it. His other hand pried her nails from his chest. "You fucking gremlin. Why am I even doing this?" She rested her chin in the curve of his neck.

"Cause you're my big, strong knight in shining armor." She heaved a dreamy sigh that tickled his neck. He tried not to think about how perfectly she fit into him or how overwhelming it was to have her scent filling his senses - how familiar and dizzying.

“Yeah, that’s what they call me.” His voice was strained. “World’s biggest gentleman.” He glanced from side to side before jogging through the crosswalk, pretending he couldn’t feel her body bouncing against him with every step. A drop of rain slid down the side of his face.

“Ohhh,” she draped herself more heavily over his shoulders. “That’s what they were saying! I always thought they were saying ‘worlds biggest jackass’.” She craned her neck to try to catch his expression, cheeky smile on her face.

Max arched a brow, angling his head enough to be sure she saw him, lips just barely resisting the urge to smile at her transparently goading him.

“You’re gettin’ awfully brave up there, punk.”

He dug his fingers into her thighs as a reminder, and they restricted around his torso. A heat crept up her chest, so strong that he could feel it, permeating through their clothes. She straightened up slightly, intent on appearing unfazed but a flash of lightning in the distance sufficiently distracted her, just before the crack of thunder followed. With it, the slow trickle of raindrops took a hard turn toward downpour. She squealed, trying in vain to cover her head with her arms, leaning heavy on Max's shoulders for support. He gripped harder at her legs and tried to ignore the water that had just rolled down his sock.

"Come onnn, you're so slow!" She pointed up at his hotel's awning just up ahead. "Lets move move move!" He hiked her up, readjusting his grip on her thighs, before he jogged toward the lobby. She clung around his neck while using her other hand to mimic cracking a whip. "Wuh-psh! Wuh-psh!" He bounded the last few steps, ducking under the awning and out of the rain.

"Yeah? You want to introduce a whip into this dynamic, huh?" Max set her down as they finally arrived at his hotel, his low rumble of a voice crashing through her plans to seem unaffected now that he could see her face. She swallowed hard, blinking back at him, dress soaked through and clinging high up on her thighs, and cheeks dusted with color. Her hair was wet and sticking to her face and he desperately wanted to tangle his fingers up in it. And the way she was looking at him, he really didn't think that she would object.

"Where's your room?" Her voice came out a hoarse whisper and he swallowed hard, forgetting for a moment why they came here in the first place. Clearing his throat, he tried to wrangle some coherent thoughts out of his brain.

"7th floor." He came to, finally.

"Lucky number 7." God, he was starting to hope so.

He led her to the elevator, her arm draped around his shoulder for support. They waited for the elevator to come in a stilted silence, both suddenly struck by the memory of their last time together in an elevator; the bending of wills and the crossing of lines. How far had either of them come? Years had passed and nothing had changed. Except that everything had changed.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open for them. He helped her inside and she leaned against the rail on the far end of the enclosed box it sometimes felt like they lived in. Max pressed the button for his floor and turned to watch her from across the elevator, the few feet between them felt mountainous. Every inch of him was itching to touch her; he wasn't sure how much longer he’d be able to hold off but he was worried he would spook her if he made the wrong move.

She stayed anchored to the railing, unsure she could stop herself from drifting toward him if left untethered. Just like her entire life. But he was looking at her in that way that set her whole body on fire - like he was the only one in the world that really saw her and he never wanted to look away.

"I might have an extra set of sweats you can borrow, too." He offered, and she wet her lips, nodding. Inching towards her, he let his eyes sweep over every inch of her body and he didn't miss the way that she shivered. "You always did look good in my clothes." The elevator chugged along and she could feel her heart in her throat.

"Better than you?" She cooed and Max stepped in closer to her, the air around them warming in an instant.

"Better than anyone." He said with a finality that sent a warmth pooling in her belly. She cursed the blush she knew was visibly creeping up her cheeks.

"Such a flatterer." She tried to come off casual but missed by a mile. He let out a low rumble of a laugh that she felt all the way down to her toes.

"Try telling that to literally anyone else that has ever met me." Max stepped into her space, hands clasping the railing on either side of her hips, and she swallowed hard. "I'm not a flatterer. You're just special." He brushed a wet piece of hair from her face like he had been dying to all night, and she was paralyzed, breathing unsteadily and clutching the railing behind her for all she was worth. It was all she could do to keep from reaching out to touch him. He wound the hair around his finger, eyes so intent before they finally crawled up to meet hers. "God, I fucking missed you."

The ding of the elevator sent her skittering away from him, desperate to catch her breath. She breezed out the doors, into the hallway before realizing she didn't know where she was going. Stopping in her tracks, she reluctantly turned back to him. He was sauntering out of the elevator, watching her with amusement.

"Sorry, I..." She trailed off but he just shook his head with a smirk.

"Just wanted to get into some dry clothes, I'm sure." He offered and she enthusiastically nodded in agreement.

He'd spooked her. He knew it was a possibility but now he was more sure than ever that she wanted to give in. And he wasn't out of time yet.

Waving her after him, he headed for his room, at the far end of the hallway. She limped after him on her broken heel but he let her keep her space for now. Her head was spinning away and she was grateful for the chance to stop her hands from trembling. Two decades now and there was still no one else on the planet that made her shake without even touching her. And it was addictive - she wanted to chase that frenetic, electrifying feeling off a cliff. One taste was all it ever took to remind her that she needed that feeling more than oxygen. And that scared her more than anything.

He finally stopped at his door and she had no choice but to catch up with him. Sliding his key in, he pushed past the door and she followed him inside, ignoring the familiar, gnawing sensation of being helpless to her own bad decision making. The click of the door closing behind her echoed through her veins.

Max made his way over to his suitcase as Riley stood in the center of the room, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Arms crossed over her chest, she watched him rifle through his clothes, hair dripping into his face. He made a little 'tch' noise as he pulled out a precisely folded white dress shirt, tossing aside a belt that had been tucked into the collar. Reaching back, he tossed it to her and she caught it on instinct, her brow furrowed. Glancing from the shirt, back up to him, she moved to hold it up.

"What is this?" She demanded and he only shrugged, pulling out a pair of socks that he lobbed at her.

"A shirt." He answered plainly and she rolled her eyes, holding up the pair of boxers that were tucked beneath the shirt. "I only have one pair of sweatpants so I thought I'd let you have my shirt for tomorrow. I'd be happy to switch but I figured you'd prefer to get the top and have me take the bottoms. Especially since that shirt will be a dress on you." She paused, considering the options.

"What about your pants for tomorrow? Can't I wear those? I can rock business casual." She tried to peer into his bag and he shook his head with a rueful laugh.

"Unfortunately for us both, these are my pants for tomorrow." He gestured at the sopping pants that were clinging to his thighs. "Some jackass spilled coffee all down my other pair. You can take the suit jacket, though, if you think looking like a ten year old on take-your-daughter-to-work-day is your new look." She rolled her eyes, scoffing, but he was unfazed, peeling the damp shirt off his body. Her gaze lingered, wandering up and down his frame.

He was in much better shape than she remembered. She barely even registered the few steps she took in his direction, but he sure did. Getting close enough to touch, she finally snapped out of the trance, stopping short. Max chuckled to himself, loving watching how she squirmed for him.

"How am I supposed to walk ten more blocks with no pants?" She put a fist on her hip, boxers clutched between her fingers. He tilted his head with an exasperated sigh.

"You seriously still want to walk back to your hotel now? Riley, its pouring!"

"What's my alternative?" She asked as if it wasn't obvious.

"You're really gonna make me ask?" He let his head hang to the side but she was wide-eyed and he heaved a sigh. He had really hoped it was obvious. "Stay with me." A hiss escaped between her teeth and he held up his hands like he was taming a wild horse. "At least until the rain stops."

She lingered where she was for a few moments, glancing out the window behind him as another flash of lightning illuminated the city, then down at the nice, dry shirt in her hands. Her feet throbbed beneath her and she finally nodded.

"Just until the rain stops. Then, I need to go back to my hotel." She pointed an accusatory finger at him and he held his hands up in concession.

It didn't take long for her to come out of the bathroom, dressed in his clothes, the first few buttons undone, and Max had to physically restrain himself from falling to his knees. Fuck, he'd missed the sight of her like that. What he wouldn't give to get her like that, curled up on his couch every Sunday afternoon. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He kicked himself for the thought. This wasn't what this was and he knew it. This was the best he could get and he needed to be okay with that.

She gravitated toward him, eyes roaming across his bare chest, and down to where his sweats were hanging low on his hips. Wetting her lips, she attempted to swallow back the ball of nerves that was lodged in the back of her throat. He offered up a glass from the minibar, filled with a shot of amber liquid. She didn't hesitate before tilting it back into her mouth. It burned on the way down but the warmth that bloomed in her stomach was worth it, dulling the edges of her nerves.

"Whiskey." She hissed and he tilted the handle toward her in acknowledgement.

"You're so going to hate yourself tomorrow." He was right; she was certain of it. Holding his gaze, she took the bottle from him, filling her glass halfway up, and shooting the whole thing back.

“I’d better make it worth it, then.” She sank down into the chair beside the mini bar, crossing her legs. Max shot back his glass, trying to keep eyes on her, worried she might disappear if he looked away. Pouring them each another shot, he took his, leaning against the edge of the desk. She knew, somewhere deep in the back of her brain, that adding more alcohol to this situation was playing with fire, but she was wound so tight right now, she thought she might snap.

“Well, if you’re looking to double down, maybe we should go for a drinking game to help pass the time until the rain stops.” He suggested, a devilish glint in his eye, but she just laughed.

“And you made fun of me for drinking tequila? We aren’t teenagers, sneaking out to drink under your parents dock.” She tried not to think about all the other things they’d done under that dock.

“Come on, for old times sake.” His toothy grin should have been sending out warning signals to her brain but she couldn’t focus on them with his abs on display.

“Fine, one quick game.” She conceded. “What do you want to play?”

“Never have I ever?” He gave a crooked grin and she waved him off.

“Please. You know everything I’ve ever done.”

“Alright, fine, then how about fast facts? Let’s see how well you still know me.” And that was a challenge he knew she couldn’t resist.

“Oh, you’re on.”

They settled in on the couch in the corner and she tried to keep as much distance between them as she could but their knees met in a fizzing graze despite her effort.

“Alright, you know the rules: we do rapid-fire. If you take longer than three seconds or respond with anything other than a true fact about the other person, you drink.” He reviewed and she nodded an acceptance. “Ladies first, sweetheart.” She didn’t hesitate. Her wealth of Max knowledge knew no bounds.

“You ended up in the hospital when you were ten because you got your grandma’s knitting needle stuck up your nose.”

“You dared me to do that!” He defended, still managing to sneak in under the games’ rules. That twinkle of mischief was right there in her eyes still as she held back her laugh.

“You once ate a Babybel cheese wheel with the wax still on!" She shot back and he gaped at her.

"You told me I was supposed to!" He narrowed his eyes at her but she merely shrugged, scrunching her nose.

"When you were thirteen, your grandma walked in on you french kissing a poster of Stacy Keibler."

"Wrong!" He mimicked the sound of a buzzer. "I was fourteen. Drink up." He looked smug but she only laughed at him as she tipped back her drink.

"That is not better." She shook her head but he was unashamed, lounging back into the corner of the couch, arms spread across the tops of the cushions. "Alright, your turn. Why don't you try to come up with an actual fact about me this time instead of just skimming off my answers, hmm? I'm starting to think you don't know me at all." Max considered for a moment, eyeing her up and down. That was a challenge he couldn't leave unanswered.

"You're allergic to sesame seeds; the taste of cinnamon toothpaste makes you gag; you make the greatest lemon bars of any human on earth; and you think there aren't enough yellow houses in the world." He rattled off his short list, not moving from his position in the corner. Riley wet her lips, ghost of a smile begging to bleed through. "Do any of those count as actual facts?" Her fingers tightened around her glass and she nodded. "Perfect, your turn."

"You broke the nose off the school statue."

"You failed your drivers test five times." He grinned, watching the irritation ticked above her brow, her mouth gaping in a desperate urge to protest.

"You had a wet dream in Mr. Sampson's world lit class!"

"Shut up!" He broke. "That is not what happened!" But she just tutted, signaling for him to take a drink; they both knew it was close enough to the truth. Glaring at her, he tossed back a shot before refilling both their glasses. "I told you about that in confidence, not so it could be used against me." She pouted, legs curled under her, laying her head down onto her forearm, dangling across the top of the couch, dangerously close to Max's, just daring a spark to catch.

"Sorry, baby, that's showbiz."

"Alright, fine, then i'm upping the ante." He sat upright, causing their arms to bump, sending goosebumps rising all across her skin. Max was starting to feel the effects of his last few shots take hold but there was no way he was stopping now. "Your first kiss was cut short by having the guy sneeze directly into your mouth!" She gasped, smacking the couch arm to show her displeasure.

"You lost your virginity to a horse girl!" She pointed at him.

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did - Molly McClannaugh!"

"I never slept with Molly! She never let me get past second base." He scoffed and Riley stilled, brows furrowing. A lump the size of Jupiter plummeted from his throat to the pit of his stomach.

"Who did you lose your virginity to, then?" She sipped absent mindedly at her drink now, trying to rack her brain for the other girls he had been with in high school. Max froze, too buzzed to properly guard the reaction from seeping into his face. "Wait..."

"I don't...uh."

"That night of the pool party, after I caught Mike with Savannah...our first..." She tried to capture his gaze but he was focusing on taking down more of his drink. "Was that your first time?' His eyes scaled back up to her, the answer clear as day on his face, and Riley blinked back her surprise. A bizarre warmth bloomed in her chest at the thought, turning that night over in her mind. "Why didn’t you say anything?" She had been so certain that he lost his virginity way before she ever lost hers.

"Was I supposed to formally announce it as I was taking your panties off?" He shrugged like he hadn't purposefully avoided telling her. She had been so cute when she came up to his room that next day to nervously assure him that she knew he didn't do the 'girlfriend' thing and that she understood the previous night had been casual. And when she oh-so-politely asked him if he would be interested in doing it again from time to time - as friends, of course - what else was he supposed to say? He certainly wasn't going to say no.

"No, but maybe sometime in the following decade?" She suggested, trying to duck into his line of sight that he had been strategically keeping away from her.

He truthfully couldn't believe it took this long for the truth to come out. It had almost slipped out on a dozen different late nights together. But he knew that if he brought it up, he would have a hard time holding back the deluge of hidden thoughts that were kept behind that dam. He spent years being just a nudge away from telling her to stop screwing around with dirt bags that didn't deserve her, and see what was right in front of her. He'd probably end up waxing on about how they were meant for each other. His feelings for her were so messy and entwined with that first night together; he couldn't promise he wouldn't end up letting her know that he wanted her to be his first and his last. So instead, he coasted, over and over, letting them go in the same circle until he thought he'd be sick. Maybe this time he'd say something, maybe next time, maybe, maybe, maybe.

"Hey, it's not my fault that I had such natural skill that you couldn't tell it was my first time." He waved her off, worried she would keep digging and trap him into admitting more things he had painstakingly kept to himself over the years. "Now drink up." She conceded, holding her glass up in a toast to no one before shooting it back.

"I can't believe you never told me that."

"Aht, aht!" He stopped her before she could drag this conversation out a second longer. "Drink again. That's not a fact about me."

"You're just trying to get me drunk now." She scowled, pouring another drink to sip at, the warmth swimming in her veins now palpable.

"I am not! Maybe you just don't know me as well as you thought you did.” He nudged her, knowing she couldn't resist fighting that accusation.

"Oh, I know you Maxwell. Better than anybody else in the world." Even after all these years apart, she was probably still right.

"Prove it then." And he knew that would seal it. Her brows furrowed with determination and he let out a subtle breath of relief knowing he had diverted her for now.

"Fine. When you went away to college, you started smoking cigarettes for some girl in your theater class, but it didn't last past Thanksgiving because your mom refused to let you in the house smelling like that." She raised a brow and Max nodded his approval. Though, technically she was wrong on the second point. He only ever even started smoking cigarettes because she wouldn’t shut up about how hot she thought it was that her new boyfriend smoked. But when he saw her at Thanksgiving, she mentioned that she was already tired of the taste when she kissed the guy. And she looked at him like what she really missed was the taste of him. He stopped on the spot.

“You are the only person I know that thinks that Billy Joel has a flawless discography.” He wagged an accusatory finger in her direction. Her face and her hands went through a journey of animated expressions before she finally shook her head, holding up a finger right back at him.

"Okay, first of all, I'm right. Please have some respect for the King of Long Island, the King of Music, the King of My Heart - William Martin Joel." She pressed her hand over her heart with a hurt expression. "The man doesn't miss." Max rolled his eyes, using his free hand to mime a mouth blabbing. "Second of all, drink up because I can tell you for a firm fact that your mother agrees with me." He gawked at her.

"Since when are you talking to my mother about Billy Joel?"

"Since always; I love Nina!" She shifted more in his direction, crossing her legs. "We have a long standing game of online Scrabble going." Max pushed his tongue into his cheek, eyes wide.

"Unbelievable. You haven't spoken to me in four god damn years but you're still playing Words with Friends with my mom?" He demanded, shaking his head in disbelief before finally taking his drink.

Placing his glass on the table, he readjusted himself, pulling one leg up onto the couch, knee bent and nestled right against her thigh, heat searing through him. His eyes finally snagged on the small glimpse of his boxers that was peaking out from under the massively oversized shirt she had on. Suddenly, he was all too aware of his hands and their desire to roam. He squeezed them both shut - one on top of the couch, the other on his thigh - in an attempt to displace some of that energy.

But she was watching, finger daintily gliding over the rim of her glass, eyes drawn to the way the muscles in his forearm flexed each time he did. Her gaze crawled up his forearms to his chest, watching the way it rose and fell before finally returning to his face. They had drifted closer to each other than she'd realized.

Breaking eye contact, she glanced down at the table, busying herself with pouring him another shot. The air suddenly felt much thinner and she needed a few seconds to catch her breath. Steadying herself, she shook the feeling out and handed him his refill, his hand lingering on hers for a beat.

"You like to sing songs from musicals in the shower." She took a hard left turn, steering them back to the game before he could suck her in. Max breathed a laugh, shaking his head; she was so predictable.

"You make a great duet partner." His eyes raked down her frame, memories flooding in of some of their showers together, from the wildly sexy to the silly to the unbearably tender and intimate. They'd had a lot of good showers.

"You make a surprisingly good pot roast." She missed when he would cook for her. Before she started dating Jonah, it was the longest she had ever been single since her and Max first got together. They both had their own places and, even if they were living hours from each other, they spent a lot of weekends together. Watching movies, cooking meals together, sleeping in the same bed, pretending this was really their lives. She missed those weekends more than she wanted to admit.

"You made my first apartment feel like home." It slipped out before he could stop it, his brain having escaped to the same place as hers. Riley's lips parted with a breath, eyes locking with his.

"Yeah..." She hummed, unwittingly letting herself settle even more snugly into him until his arm was essentially around her, resting on the top of the couch, their bodies side by side, straddling the line she was trying so hard not to cross. "You were the best roommate I never had." His chest ached, looking down at her, fitting together with him as perfectly as she always had.

"God, I miss watching you dance around that kitchen in just my shirt." He sighed the thought into existence, brushing her hair behind her ear, sending sparks straight down her spine. Her smile was involuntary as the memories floated through her mind.

"Distracting you while you made me pancakes that inevitably burned because you'd end up bending me over the countertop instead." Her cheeks burned at the way his eyes darkened. His finger delicately trailed along her shirt collar, down her sternum to the first button, eyes greedily drinking in every inch of her, exactly as she was.

"Using that spatula for much more important things than pancakes." His tongue swiped across his lips, mouth suddenly very dry. She was looking up at him from under her lashes, her feet propped up on the table in front of her putting those smooth, bare legs out on display for him.

"Leaving welts that I'd feel every minute of the drive home." Warmth pooled low in her stomach, their game long forgotten.

“Good,” his lips curled in a devilish grin, shifting so he loomed over her, “that’s what you get for being a punk.”

“Oh, is that right?” her knuckles ghosted across the toned skin of his stomach in an electrifying tease.

"Mmm, completely deserved." He hummed, toying with the button of her shirt, daring her to stop him. "You knew what you were doing and you got exactly what you were looking for." The tip of his finger skimmed down the length of the shirt, tantalizingly slow, and she swallowed hard, eyes drifting up to meet his.

"Well, now, I'm sure I don't know what you mean." That silky tone in her voice lit a fire in Max's belly. She was lighting matches she wouldn't be able to contain.

"You don't, hmm?" His finger swirled circles around her stomach. She shook her head, batting her lashes, and Max pressed his tongue to his cheek before letting out a low rumble of a laugh. "So you don't remember that little show you put on for me? Swaying your hips," his finger swept from side to side, leaving a faint impression in the fabric of the shirt, "showing off that perfect little ass."

Riley shifted in place, legs pressed together and her breathing jagged. Her knuckles still held firmly in place on his abdomen, quickly becoming the only stopper between their bodies. Her brain was a fog of scarcely contained desires, clouding every logical thought that was trying to claw it's way to the surface.

"So my crime was dancing?" She raised a brow, thumb absently grazing over his skin.

"No," Max's finger trailed down, off the shirt and onto her bare thighs. Riley shivered. "your crime was traipsing over to me, wrapping your arms around me from behind, and stroking my dick through my pants."

"I thought you liked that." She pouted, head lolling back dramatically onto his chest, eyes still angled up to him.

"Oh, I do." He traced his finger up to her knee, then oh-so-slowly dragged it back down the inside of her thigh like a trail of gasoline, ready to ignite. Blaring alarm bells sounded in her head as his fingers toyed with the edge of the shirt, but it didn't stop her knees from drifting apart just enough to give him clearance. Hand dipping beneath the shirt, he gingerly crept up that soft skin that he missed so much. He reached the apex of her thighs, using the pad of his thumb to brush against her core through the thin fabric of the boxers, sending shockwaves reverberating through her body, temporarily obliterating every sane thought she'd ever had. Her back arched as he circled his thumb over her clit, the fabric of his boxers a welcome friction. "I just don't like when little teases," he curled his free arm around her shoulders, fingers settling in her hair, "get me all wound up and then waltz away." He pulled his hand out from under her shirt and she let out an involuntary whimper. Max smirked, watching her melt right into the palm of his hand. "And when I very politely asked you to get your ass back over here, you turned around and said 'make me'. What else was I supposed to do with you once I caught you?"

In one smooth motion, he wrapped a strong hand around her thigh, yanking it up over his legs, leaving her spread wide for him. She squeaked, skin blazing beneath his fingers. He used his fingers in her hair to guide her eyes up to his. Thick digits dug into the sensitive skin of her thighs, sliding a possessive grip up to her center. Stopping just short of her core, he gave a sharp slap that echoed around the room. She couldn't stop the desperate whine that escaped her lips. Max dug his nails into the stinging flesh of her thigh.

"What am I supposed to do with you now that I've caught you?" He thrummed his fingers along her thigh, predator taunting his prey. She bit her lip hard, hips rocking up toward him involuntarily, and Max chuckled, low in his throat. "Do you miss the way I filled this perfect pussy, sweetheart?" His hand cupped her mound through the boxers and she let out a sharp breath, body stiffening. "Did your actor-boy ever touch you the way I do?" He curled his middle finger, teasing her lips, and she mewled. "Did he stretch your little cunt like he was made for it?" All she could manage was rutting her hips against his hand. "Did he make you cum until you cried - until you were shaking and exhausted and begging for mercy?" He throbbed in his pants; she was so fucking close he could practically taste her. Bringing his fingers up to his face, he smelled that familiar sweet scent of her, and his final bit of restraint snapped. "God, I fucking missed you."

There was no room to think when he pulled her face to his. They collided in a frenzied rush that she couldn't begin to resist. She melted into him, letting his tongue sweep into her mouth. He didn't hesitate to yank the boxers down her legs, fingers diving between her soaked folds. Her head tipped back, a strangled cry erupting from her chest, into the space between them, and Max grinned, burying his face into her neck. He sank one, then two fingers inside her and she keened, bucking against his hand.

"That's my fucking girl. Such a needy little pussy." He nipped at her neck, pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb working tight circles around her clit. Arm wrapped tight around her, he pulled her up to straddle his lap, keeping his fingers buried inside her. His other hand wound up in the hair at the base of her head, dragging her back into a hungry, desperate kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck, steadying herself as she ground down against his fingers. "That's right, ride my fingers, beautiful; ride 'em like they were my cock. Always such a good girl for me."

Her brain whirled in a million different directions, clouded by a haze of unrelenting need, left unchecked for years. She met his gaze, a white hot fire burning in his eyes. This didn't feel real, her brain tried desperately to make sense of how she ended up here, hips stuttering, but Max's fingers were curling into just the right spot and she struggled to keep up with her thoughts.

"God, so fucking wet for me, Riley."

But her name was so very real. Real enough to jump start her brain like a live wire and send her skittering off his lap. Fuck, this couldn't keep happening. How did this always happen? And now he was looking at her with all that confusion and hurt and decades of push and pull, shining clear as day on his face.

She smoothed the shirt down over her hips, covering up as much as she could without pants. Max was clearly waiting for an explanation, arms sagging down into the couch, empty of all the things that had been so close to his reach for the first time in so long.

"I...I'm sorry. I really don't know what is wrong with me."

"Riley, come on." He protested, holding out a hand to encourage her to come back to him but she just wrapped her arms around herself. She glanced out the window behind them and made a desperate attempt to hide from the reality of tonight.

"The rains stopped. I should go, its really late." She stumbled back a few steps, clearing the coffee table and Max stood up after her.

“You can’t walk back with no pants on, drunk, at two in the morning, Riley. Be reasonable.”

“I am. I’ll just throw my dress back on and finally call a damn Uber like I should have done hours ago.” She rolled the sleeves up on the shirt and started hunting around for her dress. Max followed after her but she refused to look at him.

“Stop it. You can't just leave like that." He said, plucking the dress off the chair she'd left it on earlier. She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him before jutting a hand out, demanding the dress.

"Watch me." She snatched the fabric from his hands, spinning on her heel, but Max caught her wrist, still sending sparks all up her arm.

"How fucking long are you going to keep running?" He watched her face falter, then harden, and irritation ticked up in him.

"I'm not running. This is just a bad idea - a really bad idea. So I need to walk away now - not run! Just make a completely rational and sane decision to walk away."

"How is this rational?" His irritation was biting through. "You have been running away from me for years. You're running away now just like you did four years ago and just like you did when you started dating Jonah. What are you so fucking scared of, huh?" Her brow twitched and she finally yanked her hand away from him.

“I’m scared because being around you makes me want to do irrational things!”

“Like what?” He demanded. “What have I ever made you do that was so monstrous?” She put a hand on her hip, glowering at him, but he only scoffed. “You can’t be serious. Still about Jonah? When are you gonna forgive yourself? It’s been five years!”

“We hurt him!”

“So what?” He practically bellowed. “He’s probably already forgotten it even happened; he’s an idiot! Let yourself off the hook.”

“I can’t!” She shot back, finally putting years of thoughts kept to herself into words. “I can’t because it doesn’t matter who I’m with, I can’t control myself around you.” She shook her head and Max cocked his head, hardly seeing the problem. “Given the slightest nudge, I’m going to end up making the exact same choices over and over again.”

“What’s so wrong with that? What is so wrong with choosing us?”

“It’s not fair to everyone else around us, Max!”

“Who gives a shit?” He snapped, increasingly annoyed he needed to spell it out. “It’s not about them! It’s about us,” he gestured between them, “me and you, Riley, just like it always has been. Just like it always will be.” She was frozen, goosebumps rising over every inch of her skin. “At the end of the fucking world, it’s still just gonna be you and me.”

“Max…” She breathed his name into the space between them, heart twisting in her chest. Her face was stricken and his stomach lurched. “I can’t do this dance forever.”

“Why not?” He was earnest, painfully so, that same bumbling teenager still taking his toll. Gravity was pulling him toward her but he fought it with all his strength, not sure he could take it if she backed away from him.

“Because it hurts too much.” And her voice trembled just enough for him to catch it, crumbling something inside him that he didn’t know existed. “Every relationship I have ever been in has been a battle against my instincts to cancel plans in case you decide to call; against my instinct to end things with a guy after the first date because he doesn’t compare to you; against my instinct to doom every single relationship I'm ever in, all for a guy that will never want to give me what I need.”

“You can’t be serious.” He balked and it knocked her off balance. “When have I literally ever said no to you? You are the only person on the entire godforsaken planet that I will bend over backwards to make happy.” He was bordering on angry now, heat creeping up the back of his neck. He would have bent time and space to keep her from leaving. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I would’ve given you everything you ever asked for?” The soft, devastated features of her face were pleading him to stop but he couldn’t.

“Of course it did.” She scrubbed a hand over her face, body sagging. “But even on the days that I thought you might agree to a relationship that you didn’t really want - ”

“What makes you so sure I wouldn’t want it?” He crossed his arm over his chest and she rolled her eyes. Scoffing, he took a step toward her.

“Be serious.”

“I am! What gave you the impression I wouldn’t really want a relationship with you?” He held out an expectant hand for an answer and she searched the ceiling for an answer, shaking her head incredulously.

“How about the hundred different times over the years that you explicitly told me you could never see yourself settling down and that - quote - relationships are for suckers?” She held a sarcastic hand back at him, raising her brows with a sneer.

“Oh, come on, Riley!” He pleaded, genuinely surprised it wasn’t obvious to her. “You are the exception to every rule.” He shook his head, taking a step closer but she didn’t budge. “I didn’t see myself ever settling down with anyone but you.” He pressed his luck, taking another step. “I’d be a sucker if I got into a relationship with anyone but you.” She heaved a sigh, shaking her head. It’s not like there weren’t days she thought he might want a life with her. Hell, there were days where it felt like they had a life together - glimpses at a different lifetime where puzzle pieces fit together and the boy next door is the love of your life - but that wasn’t this lifetime. Or maybe it was but that didn’t make her the love of his.

“It doesn’t even matter.” She finally took a step back, suddenly acutely aware of how close he’d gotten and the way it was clouding her brain. “Even if you had agreed, even if you had really thought it was what you wanted, how long was that gonna last? How long until the thrill wore off and you finally got bored of me like you did with every other girl you’ve ever met?”

“Oh good fucking god, Riley!” He fumed, charging toward her and taking her face forcefully between his hands. “I could fucking shake you. What is it going to take to get it through your head that you aren’t any other girl to me?” His touch scorched her skin and short circuited her brain. Fuck, she couldn’t think straight when he was this close. “This isn’t some stupid high school crush anymore. It’s been twenty goddamn years of wanting to be near you so badly it hurts.” He let his hands fall to his sides but he didn’t budge from his spot. “I’ve been as close as it gets more times than I can count and it’s never close enough.” Her brain whirred, confusion, disbelief, and anger cycling through in rapid succession.

“Well you never said that, Max!” She finally shot back. “How was I supposed to know I was some unspoken exception to a rule! All I knew was that every time I thought we might be headed somewhere, I’d test the waters only to be told you would sooner fake your own death than commit to one woman. What was I supposed to think?” She smoothed her palms down her thighs to silence the way her hands were trembling. “I couldn’t risk it.” His face hardened, brows drawn into a harsh line.

“Right, better to cut me out of your life all together.” The venom in his voice was hardly contained but she was nearing her wits end. A long, emotional day combined with the tail end of half a dozen shots meant that her filter was wearing down to nothing.

“Fine. I’m a coward - is that what you want to hear?” She used her foot to push off the wall she was trapped against, forcibly moving past Max, and bumping his shoulder. It bought her a few valuable seconds to breath and forget the way his eyes boared into her. Getting her space didn’t mend her weary filter, though. “I didn’t think I’d survive it if we made a real go of it and you got bored of me.” Her body turned back to him on instinct alone, a hurt she had fictionalized over and over again playing out on her face. “I’ve been cheated on by a lot of guys but you…? I’d never recover from that.” The hurt in his chest only read as anger. Her stomach dropped.

“Cheat on you? For fucks sake, have a little faith in me.” He scoffed but his eyes softened as they grazed over her. He might have been a little subtle over the years about just how snugly he was wrapped around her finger but he really thought she understood. “You really think, after everything you’ve been through, that I could do that to you?”

“I didn’t." She conceded, worrying her lip between her teeth, wondering if she could back her way out of this conversation now that it had started. But he was waiting expectantly for more. "I used to think that the worst thing that could happen was our friendship would end - that was already plenty to stop me from pursuing it.” She sank back against the arm of the couch, raking her fingers through her hair. “But then after things ended with Jonah, things with us were so hot and heavy. I saw you almost every day, I woke up next to you more mornings than not, hell, we spent Valentines Day curled up on your couch with a meal you made me from scratch. It almost felt like…” Her eyes met his, the weight of her unspoken words sucking the air out of the room. There was no arguing that point; it hadn’t just felt like they were together - they were together. He just never had the chance to call it what it was.

“Riley…” He didn't have the words. He was the man of a million words but somehow, with her, they always seemed to allude him.

“But I guess that must have all been in my head, cause you had no trouble taking home that girl that worked the merch stand at your shows.” She clung desperately to the thread of dignity that kept her voice from breaking, blinking away the sting behind her eyes. He floated toward her but she held up a hand that stopped him in his tracks.

“It wasn’t like that, Ry, I swear to god.” He insisted but she was just waving him off.

“Please, Max, her tits were on full display in your kitchen.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him anymore, embarrassed heat creeping up her neck, and it was making his stomach twist. It was hard to argue with that, even if he knew it wasn’t the reality of the situation. But even if his sex with Valerie, the exceptionally hot new merch girl at MLW, wasn’t real, the look on Riley’s face when she walked into his apartment with a bottle of his favorite whiskey, only to find a topless Valerie sitting on his kitchen counter was very very real. “It’s fine, that’s how we had always operated; I was stupid for thinking anything had changed.”

That devastated look when she saw them only lasted for a second but it was plenty to haunt his dreams for years. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that made her look like that and he didn’t even know how it happened. Valerie just lived nearby and wanted to walk back with him and he didn’t stop to think when she asked to see his replica belt collection. And yeah, maybe he’d flirted a little because he didn’t know how not to, but not so much that it warranted her taking her top off while he went to find the belt she asked to see.

But she was nothing; she was less than nothing. She was so insignificant in his story with Riley, she didn't deserve to mentioned. She didn't get to be the thing that stood between them getting together.

“It wasn’t in your head.” He finally conceded, minutes too late, trying to forcibly shift them back to what really mattered. Her eyes pleaded with him to stop. She didn’t need to complicate her feelings here, they were already jumbled enough as it was. But Max wasn't finished - he had come this far. “Everyone in the locker room referred to you as my girlfriend. My dad referred to you as my girlfriend. The fucking mailman referred to you as my girlfriend. It wasn’t in your head.” Hearing it out loud had her heart clawing it’s way out of her chest; this was too much. She didn’t realize just how badly she’d wanted to hear him call her that until he’d gotten this close.

“But I wasn’t your girlfriend, Max. So you were fully within your right to invite naked girls back to your place.” She maintained her position, knowing if she let herself falter, there would be no stopping her from crying in front of him and there was nothing in this world that she wanted less than to cry right now.

“I am telling you, nothing happened!” He gestured a desperate hand out at her. “It was a complete misunderstanding. I know that sounds like bullshit but I swear to fucking god I wasn’t responsible for the tits in the kitchen.” She rolled her eyes with a lofty breath.

“It doesn’t even matter.” She kicked off the arm of the couch, restless. “It really wasn’t about her. Like I said, even if you had, it’s really not my place to get mad about it.”

“But I’m telling you it was your place. You should have torn a hole clean through me.”

If it hadn’t been for that millisecond of devastation on her face, he might not have even known she was upset by it. She just apologized for walking in without knocking, as if him giving her a key wasn't an open invitation to do so, and excused herself to the bathroom. When he got back from escorting Valerie out of his apartment building, she was on his couch and refused to talk about it. But he knew. He didn’t have to be told that she had been crying in the bathroom while he was gone. Even if her face didn’t show it, she was stilted the whole night and eventually went home to sleep in her own bed. It wasn’t more than a few weeks before she had her first date with Lucas.

“I didn’t want to tear a hole through you. I was mad at myself, not at you. All you did was remind me that there was more at stake than just our friendship.” So she hid out in the arms of another cheating bastard. And she got humiliated on a national stage. And she lost the show she had poured her soul into. But all of that pain was manageable; the pain of having her heart broken by Max, though, that would have swallowed her whole. She needed to get out of here. His jaw ticked with irritation as she began floating toward the sparse kitchen space of the suite, searching for her shoes, but he dutifully followed after her.

"And so, what? You just gave up on the entire idea of us because of a misunderstanding that you refused to let me clear up?" It came out a little indignant and his face twitched in a strain to control his temper. She slowed, head lolling back to see him.

"Because it didn't matter." She wandered into the tiny galley kitchen and turned around, only to find herself blocked in by Max. Her pulse picked up.

"Stop saying that, it obviously did matter." He stood at the entrance to the kitchen, allowing her a few feet between them.

"No, it didn't! We kept on doing what we always did. Same old cycle, wash and repeat."

"Except that you cut me out of your life six months later!" He shot back, inadvertently taking a step into the kitchen. "Is that why? Still just punishing me for some stupid mistake?"

"No, I cut you out of my life because you got into a fist fight with my boyfriend at my mom's Holiday Party and announced to the entire room that I had cheated on Jonah with you. Huge surprise that Lucas told me I needed to make a decision."

"And so you just decided for the both of us, then? Years of friendship down the drain because your cheating, piece of shit boyfriend was worried you'd beat him to the punch?" He was past the point of feeling sheepish - none of that mattered in comparison. Another couple steps toward her and she was beginning to feel the heat of his body. He was getting harder to block out.

"What was I supposed to do, Max?" She demanded, plastering herself against the counter on the far side of the kitchen, buying as much space as she could get.

"You were supposed to choose me!" He practically shouted, hands clenching in an attempt to resist shaking her. "You were supposed to stop being a coward and be with me!" She swallowed hard, the smell of him mixed with the aftermath of their evening was seeping into her brain. She shook her head, brow furrowed.

"Yeah, and what about you, huh? When were you supposed to stop being a coward?" She spit back and he glared at her. "It's not like you ever manned up and said something! You only ever hammered on about how you 'never wanted to be tied down'." Her impression of him was tempered by the edge of emotion that was seeping into her voice. "How was I supposed to choose you when you never even hinted at wanting anything more with me? You could have said something at literally any time in last decade and I would have dropped everything in my life to be with you. But you didn't. Not once." Fire burned beneath his fingertips, grinding his teeth hard enough to chip them.

"Fine, you want me to say something?" He finally snapped, crowding into her space, hand on the cabinets behind her head. She could feel her heartbeat in her throat, eyes deadlocked with his. Reaching up with his free hand, he tangled his fist in the back of her hair, and her head tipped back in a breathless gasp. "You've been my girl since day one and nothing is ever gonna change that.” He was close enough to feel her warm breath fanning across his face. Her fingers curled around the edge of the counters. “I didn't need to say it, Riley. Its just a given - you’re mine. I know it, you know, every guy you've ever been with knows it.” He sandwiched her against the counter, their legs slotting together just right, and her skin buzzed head to toe. “So you can walk away as many times as you want. Cause our roots are tangled up tight, sweetheart; you are always gonna find your way right back here." Her breath came out in shallow gasps for air, and his lips curled into a smug smirk. Using his grip on her hair, he tilted her head, nosing along the curve of her neck until his lips brushed her earlobe. "Your body is screaming it, practically vibrating over finally being back where it belongs." Her eyes fluttered closed; her brain was going a hundred and fifty down an empty highway, wind rattling the sides so hard she couldn't hear a cohesive thought. His lips ghosted across her neck, raising goosebumps all down her spine.

"Max..." She whimpered, and he strained against the soft material of his sweats. He needed that sound more than he needed oxygen.

Loosening his grip on her hair, his hand slipped down until settling firmly along her jaw. Fingers dug into her skin, he nipped at the delicate skin of her neck, and her breathing hitched.

"I'm done sharing you, Riley." His thumb slid down her jaw, across the column of her neck, ripples of electricity spilling out beneath it. He adjusted his fingers with a trial squeeze around her throat, coming face to face with her. Her eyes blinked open, wide and hazy, dragging her teeth across her bottom lip. "Now, are you my girl or not?”

Riley’s tongue dabbed over her trembling lip and she swallowed hard. There were a million reasons racing through her head that all told her to say no but she was already nodding.

“Yeah?” His brow quirked, fingers thrumming against her throat. She nodded more firmly. Slowly, he leaned into her, guiding her up to him. Their breaths mingled and her eyes drifted shut. He nudged his nose along hers and she stood on her toes, her lips aching for his, but he pulled back. “Let me hear it.” Eyes flying open, she hesitated, but Max’s fingers constricted around her throat and the whine that slipped out was damning.

“I’m your girl.” She finally conceded. It was just above a whisper but Max scarcely let her finish anyway.

“I fuckin’ know it.”

In an instant, his hands flew down to desperately grip her face, crushing his lips into hers so hard it knocked the breath from her lungs. And just like that, she was tripping headfirst into his quicksand.

Their mouths collided in a furious gnashing of tongues and teeth and deep seated need. Her nails dragged across his lower back and he groaned into her mouth. They were messy and frantic, his hands roaming into her hair and down her collarbone, slipping beneath the splayed fabric of her shirt, hungry for every inch of skin they had been deprived of for so long. His fingers wandered to her bare thigh, electricity blooming in a line beneath his touch. He shivered, hand stuttering when she smoothed her palm up his chest, roping it around his neck.

His lips made a messy trail to her chin, then up along the line of her jaw. Calloused fingers curled around her thigh, guiding it up around his hip, and he yanked her hips flush against him. She let out an airy sigh as he laid open mouth kisses along her neck, making him throb beneath his sweatpants.

"Feel good to be back where you belong, sweetheart?" He nipped at her earlobe, rocking his hips in smooth thrusts against her core, completely exposed to him. She whimpered, body doused in gasoline and ready to ignite at a moment's notice. His fingers tightened in her hair, tugging it back, and laving his tongue over the curve of her neck before sucking at the sensitive skin.

His other hand crept up her thigh, curled around from the outside but edging up closer and closer to the apex. As he reached the top, he let his nails drag back down her thigh, and he hummed against her skin.

She urged a hurried hand just inside his hip, pawing at the top of his sweats in an attempt to push them down. Max snatched her hand, pinning it to the cabinet above her head. Her eyes shot open, wildly flitting across his face, watching helplessly as he captured her other hand, holding them both high above her head with one hand, her shirt riding up over her hips. She tugged at his grip to no avail and a thrill ran through her veins.

Grinding her hips against his stiff cock, she whined, the friction just a delicious tease. Max chuckled, low and breathy, into the crook of her neck.

“Awww, what's wrong, pretty girl?” His hand skated down, over her chest and stomach, curling his fingers around the bottom of the shirt. Knuckles dragged along the electrified skin of her hip and she squirmed. “You need something?" Her brain was too hazy for a coherent response, though, scarcely even registering his fingers nimbly undoing the bottom button. He dragged his teeth along her skin before his tongue soothed over it. She whined his name, knees suddenly feeling a little insufficient as she tried to grind against him but he pinned her hips to the counter with his own. “Use your words, Riley." But she couldn’t focus with the way his knuckles were dragging against her lower belly. He undid another button and she shook.

As quickly as his hand disappeared from her stomach, it reappeared, harshly squeezing her bare ass before delivering a sharp smack. Heat seared through her, a sharp contrast to his gentle touch, rising up her torso.

"Pleeease..." Her voice was raked over, barely recognizable under the strain of her need.

"Please what?" He delivered another, lighter smack to her ass, fingers just grazing over her center. Enough to make her entire body tremble and get his fingers dewy with her slick. Twitching beneath his sweats, his lips curled into a smug smile. He raised two fingers between them, sliding them past his lips, eyes closing as he savored the taste of her arousal. Riley's lips parted in a ragged breath, pupils blown, and his eyes snapped back to her, smirking before pressing the fingers to her lips. She obliged, letting them sink into her mouth, the taste of her still faint, and Max's other hand tightened around her wrists, trying to keep his composure. "Look at you." He worked his fingers in and out of her mouth a couple of times. "All worked up and I've barely even touched you."

An embarrassment flashed through her body and she squirmed as if it would change the truth. But when his fingers withdrew from her mouth, she had to swallow back her whine - she was already in the deep end.

His fingers, wet with their mixed saliva, trailed down her chin, over her throat, and down the center of her chest. Just barely grazing the soft skin of her breasts before landing on the top button. She couldn’t stop herself from pushing her chest out. His eyes flicked back up to meet hers, lips curling devilishly as he undid the button without looking, fingers skimming right down to the final button still fastened. Wasting no time, he popped the final obstacle and let his thumb drag torturously down over her exposed stomach. He pushed past the draped fabric, clamping around her waist with both hands, inadvertently releasing her arms. His face nestled into the crook of her neck, breathing her in, trying to commit every detail of this to memory before real life caught up to them. If he could stop time, he would have spent an eternity in that moment, her fingers curling in his hair to keep him close, their bare chests pressed against each other, heat between them threatening to burn down the entire city block.

"Fuck, I've missed you so much." The words were a rasp against her skin that he couldn't control for the third time that night. He was practically throbbing, brain just a fog of needy thoughts, his ability to keep his composure was hanging by a thread.

He gave no warning before he lifted her up onto the countertop, his lips not skipping a beat as they trailed down to the hollow of her throat. His hands slid up her figure, keeping her tight to him as he sucked dark, possessive marks into her skin. Her head tipped back, steadying herself on the countertop with one hand while the other gripped tight in his hair, as if it would lend her any real control. He left a trail of hickies in a line along her clavicle and her legs curled around his waist when he nudged the shirt over her shoulder, leaving it gaping wide. His eyes raked sinfully over every inch of her on display for him now, fingers tweaking her peaked nipple, and her breath caught in her throat.

"So damn perfect." His palm kneaded over her breast, greedy and rough, squeezing hard enough it might bruise all on its own. Free hand stabilizing on her upper thigh, he pinched her nipple between his fingers as his mouth made its way down to her chest. “And all fuckin’ mine.” He accentuated his point by leaving a particularly dark mark on her chest. He would’ve laid his claim over every last inch if he had to. “Should carve my name into your skin so everyone knows exactly who you belong to.” But god, his tongue was doing that plenty well on its own, tracing his initials over the mark he’d just made.

She sank back onto her elbow, shirt slipping off the other shoulder and giving him the full access he needed. He didn't hesitate, leaning into her and grazing his teeth over her nipple, delighting in the sharp breath of air she took in. His tongue flicked over the bud and her eyes fluttered shut, teeth raking over her lip. When he blew a cool breath across the slick, sensitive skin, her entire body bowed into him, clung around his neck.

"Fuck me, Max, pleeease." Her voice didn't feel like her own, strained and desperate.

Legs wrapped around him, she fumbled to push his sweats down with her feet. She needed more, faster, worrying her body would be reduced to ash before she got to feel him again. And even if his brain had been whirring fast enough to form a rational thought, he wouldn't have been able to resist. His entire body was electrified now and there was no slowing down. She managed to get his sweats down just enough to free his erection and there was no way to stop him to from immediately delving between her folds. Her breath escaped in a puff as he ground the tip of his cock over her clit.

"Does this pretty little pussy need some attention?" He yanked her hips so hard toward him that they practically came off the counter. One hand held her hips in place as the other skated up into her hair. "Been neglected for so long." Dragging his cock through her folds again, he could feel the precum dripping from his tip, mixing with her slick, and his eyes rolled back for just a moment. Pulling her to him by the hair, he met her in a needy kiss, frantic and overdue, as he notched his crown against her entrance. "Don't worry, baby, i'm gonna take care of you. Remind you what its like to come until you cry."

And with that, he speared through her center, to the hilt - he couldn't handle anything less than being completely buried inside her right now. She screeched, nails digging into his scalp as he made strong, purposeful thrusts up into her. Every inch of her stretched to accommodate him, squeezing a chokehold around his dick. He bit hard on her bottom lip, dragging it back as he hammered into her, her body lifting on and off of the counter with their frenzied pace.

"Ohhh fuck! Max!" She cried out, hands roaming aimlessly, pleasure blanking out her mind. If she had reservations about being with him, they were long gone, replaced by a rampaging snowball of need that was quickly filling her past her breaking point.

"You feel so fucking good, squeezing this cock like it was made for you." He growled against her jaw, fingers wrapped deep into her hair. He had meant to take this so much slower - to savor her - but fuck if his patience was that strong.

He hooked her leg up over his arm, burying both hands in her hair, keeping her spread wide for him, and forehead to forehead. Groaning, his fingers twitched as she constricted around him, trying desperately to hold it together. Her body slipping down, lower back against the counter as he rocked up into the perfect spot inside her over and over.

"My pretty little slut gonna come for me already? Missed my cock so much you couldn't even take thirty seconds before falling apart?" He watched her struggle to hold his eye contact, breathy moans following one after the other. She was too far gone to feel the shame that was percolating in her cheeks, though, just holding on for dear life as her entire body bloomed open. "Good girl, fucking milk this cock, baby." He just prayed desperately he could withstand it, his thumb reaching over to rub rough circles over her clit and she screamed, arching up and toes curling. But he didn't stop to let her breath, her screams devolving to whines.

Her back slammed, deliciously painful, against the edge of the counter each time he drove into her, and her skin was buzzing from top to bottom. She felt his hand, frantically roaming to her face, hair, stuck with sweat, getting raked between them as he gripped her jaw. He pulled her in for a messy, possessive kiss, free hand slapping her tit, fingers grazing her nipple and making her cry out. Her hand flew up to grab the cabinets to steady herself, her body trying to match his movements, careening out of control.

"Who else knows your body like this? Who else fucks you this good?" He demanded, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust. She was teetering dangerously close to the edge, his words, snarled against her ear making every inch of her skin burn. "Tell me who this beautiful body belongs to." But her orgasm was closing in quick and halting all coherent thought, color dotting her vision. His palm collided full power with her ass and the red hot sting reverberated through her veins, kicking the ground out from under her. "I said who owns this body?"

"You, you do! Fuck, Max, please!" She desperately rutted against him, chasing the finish line that was tantalizingly close if she could just wade through the foggy flashing lights.

"God damn fuckin' right I do." His voice was dangerously low, growled into the skin of her throat. Any plans for taking things slow were pummeled through, his body running on full instinct now. "Now let me feel you soak this cock."

Yanking her up more solidly onto the counter, he pushed her flat onto her back, legs spread clear apart as he rocked up into her core. Pushing down on her hips, he strummed three fingers across her clit as rapidly as he could move them, his hips falling into rhythm. Her hands desperately raked across the counters, blindly searching for a hold to keep her from floating straight out of her body. He didn't relent and her body jerked, a seismic tremble stretching over her legs. Pulling out to the tip, he slammed back in, bottoming out as he pinched her clit and she unraveled, squirting over his fingers with a scream they must have heard down in the lobby, and her back rose off the counters like she'd been electrified.

His arm wound tight around her back, plastering her to him as he bounced her up and down on his dick, his balls tightening as her walls pulsed around him, overstimulated but begging for more. Her body twitched as she stumbled through aftershocks and she clung to him for all she was worth, mouth hung open in a series of silent screams. It didn't take more than a few jerky thrusts before his hips stuttered, burying himself as deep as he could go. He spilled his warmth into her with a roar, sinking his teeth hard into her neck.

They writhed and jerked, bodies pressed tight as they could get, trying to ride out every last second. Slowing, he peppered kisses over her skin, helping her settle back down on the countertop. His hands slid up into her hair, pulling her in for a languorous kiss, getting lost in her haze, unwilling to budge from his spot deep inside her.

"That's my fuckin' girl." He cooed, hands skating down to her hips, and she melted into him, every ounce of energy fully spent, her arms draped lazily around his shoulders. "God, I've fucking missed you, Ry."

And as the fog of her orgasm ebbed, reality settled in, harsh as ever, with a million unanswered questions. The pull of the crook of his neck was too much to resist, though, so she buried her face instead of addressing any of the nagging thoughts that swirled in her head. But they couldn't stay like that forever, and when he finally pulled back, he could see the uncertainty clouding her expression. That wasn't exactly what he was hoping for.

"Max..." She breathed out his name with a tiny disbelieving shake of her head, and he straightened his spine. "What are we doing?" He wet his lips, mulling over the options in his head before he swept forward and picked her up. She yelped but he didn't stop on his path out of the kitchen and she didn't have the energy to fight him.

"We're going to bed." He bounced her down onto the mattress and crawled after her.

"But -"

"No." He cut her off, yanking the blankets out from under them. She skittered up to the top of the bed, bones suddenly feeling much heavier. Max maneuvered up her body, pressing her down into the mattress, pulling the blanket up over them. Meeting his eyes, she went to protest but he pressed his lips to hers in a silencing kiss. "It's been a long ass day and I've got to get up in less than four hours for another day of talking to sweaty nerds." She bit the inside of her lips, cutting off the rest of her protests. "And I fully intend to wake you up in the middle of the night with my tongue on your clit so let's get some sleep and maybe in the morning you'll feel less like arguing." Her lips curled into a reluctant smile before she scrunched her nose.

"Not likely."

Max snorted a laugh before rolling off of her. He roped her in with an arm and she curled against him the way she always had. Maybe sleep was exactly what she needed to make sense of this night. And this bed was so comfortable. And Max was so warm...

___

Sunlight peaked through the edge of the hotel blinds, right across Riley's eyes and she stretched, quickly finding she didn’t have the space, strong arms wrapped tight around her middle. Memories of last night flashed across her mind, a lazy smile stretching across her face. Max's lips dusted over the curve of her shoulder and a flittering of electricity rolled through her skin.

"Good morning, beautiful." He whispered into the crook of her neck and she settled back into him as heavily as she could. She was going to enjoy every second of this until reality came calling. God, she had missed waking up next to him.

"Mmm morning." Rolling onto her back, she met his hazy eyes, still heavy from sleep but soft and mildly incredulous. He had half expected to wake up and find out this had been a horribly detailed and unfair dream. But here she still was, hair mussed and dreamy smile directed right up at him. "Can we just blow off real life and stay here?" She knew they needed a more serious conversation about things they admitted in the heat of the moment last night but, she was pretty sure, as long as they stayed in this bed, nothing else mattered.

"Ugh, you read my mind." He leaned over her, fingers sliding up into her hair as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to her lips that left them tingling in his wake. "Unfortunately, I am contractually obligated to be at this convention in..." His gaze flicked over to the alarm clock on the bedside table and he groaned. "...45 minutes. Fuck, I really need to get up and get in the shower."

Riley stretched her legs out under the covers, nestling down into the mattress.

"Oh, that's sad for you. Have fun with that, I'll be right here." She closed her eyes pointedly, missing the scowl the Max leveled at her. But there was no missing his fingers tazing her sides, making her jump. "Ah! Hey!" She objected but he rolled on top of her, pressing her into the mattress before tickling up her waist. Squirming and squealing beneath him, she begged him to stop between laughs. "Please, please, I surrender, please!" He didn't let up, though, just creeping up then down until finally settling on her hips.

"Let me try that again." He said, his bare body pressing deliciously into hers. "Come get in the shower with me, brat." She bat her lashes with a coy smile.

"Now, see, my flight doesn't come for a few more hours so I don't see why I -." She stopped short when his fingers grazed back over her sides. "No, please!" She giggled, squirming under him and he grinned down at her.

"I can't shower alone knowing my duet partner is laying right over here." He licked his lips, tracing feather-light over her skin until goosebumps raised all down her spine. Tilting her head from side to side, she scrunched her nose.

"I don't know, I saw that musical number you did with Chris Jericho. Pretty sure I've been replaced. Maybe I should go get him for you?" She teased, tongue peaking out, trapped between her teeth, and he breathed a laugh.

"Oh so you've been watching me for a while, then, huh? Didn't realize you were basically a groupie now."

"Only if you count as my groupie, too. Don't think I didn't pick up on you knowing exactly what happened in the episode where we fly to Gorkula. Are you a SpaceHead, Max?" She ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to keep back a grin, and Max gaped at her, brows knitting together.

"I don't appreciate being called a slur, Riley. Incredibly disrespectful that you would lump me in with the rest of your soap-phobic fan base." He dug his fingers into her and she squirmed with a breathless laugh. "Now get this pretty little ass in the shower before I hoist you over my shoulder and haul you in there myself."

She bit down on her lip, gearing up to tease him but stopped short at the sound of the doorknob jiggling. She tried to push herself up to sit but was stuck. When the door swung open, she smacked blindly at Max's back and he hurried to roll off of her.

"Surprise!" A petite girl, wrapped in a stylish but tight office dress, burst through the opened door and Riley snatched the blanket up to her chest, looking to Max, who had jumped to his feet.

"K-Kelsey?" He stammered, his skin suddenly excruciatingly hot, desperately clambering for a sheet to cover himself. "What are you doing here?"

Watching helplessly as Kelsey took in the scene before her, steam quickly beginning to billow out her ears, Max took a nervous step back. And understanding washed through Riley crystal clear, salt water flooding her veins, poisoned and sluggish, cementing her to her spot. She glanced back at 'Kelsey', shell shocked, and watched as she launched her purse directly at Max's head.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" She demanded, storming toward him, and Riley sat numbly as the woman smacked his chest. "I can't believe you!"

"Baby, please.." He held his hands up in front of him in defense but Kelsey kept swinging.

Riley jolted from her spot, taking the blanket with her as she backed up. She couldn't feel her skin anymore, a monstrous pit of nausea roiling in her gut. Baby. She was going to be sick.

"How could you do this to me? I came out here to surprise you after how shitty you said your day was yesterday and this..." Kelsey glanced back in Riley's direction and gave her a good look at the potent mix of anger and heartbreak on her face for just a second before she whirled back on Max. "You're unbelievable."

Max's gaze finally drifted back to Riley and she never wanted to disappear so badly in her life. She tore away from his gaze forcefully, skittering toward her dress that was laying on the floor by the door. Slipping away before his eyes.

"Kels, I'm sorry, I never meant-" He tried to defend but she stomped her heel hard into his foot. Riley shimmied into her dress on the other side of the room, fighting against the way her hands shook. "Fuck, can everybody just -" Holding his hands out as if he could still control this situation, Kelsey swatted them away.

"I'm going to go home, put your shit out on the curb, and change the lock. Go fuck yourself, Max." She snatched her purse off the floor by him before turning on her heel. Slowing to a stop when she caught sight of Riley by the door, she shook her head. "You can fucking keep him."

The door rattled shut behind her and plunged the room into a nuclear silence. Riley's eyes pinned to Max and the sting behind them finally made itself known, her chest aching so bad she thought it might cave in. She sucked in a breath, frozen to the ground.

"Riley, I can explain."

"Don't." She begged. "Please."

Sweeping up her purse from the couch, she backed toward the door and Max finally started after her.

"Please, stop, I know how this looks..."

"It looks like you have a live-in girlfriend, Max." She whirled on him with a devastated expression that she had tried so valiantly to control.

"Well...had, from the sounds of it." He mumbled but she glared daggers through him. Holding up his hands in a peace offering, he tried to get a step closer to her. "I'm sorry, I know. Fuck, I'm sorry."

"This was a mistake. I need to go." She tried to turn back toward the door but Max caught her hand. The shock it sent through her body knocked her off balance.

"Please don't go, Ry." He reeled her closer by the hand but she snatched it away from him. Darting around her, he stepped into her path toward the door. She tried to side step him but he kept in her way. "Please, I can't go back to life without you. I meant everything I said last night!" He pleaded and she sat back on her heel, stunned, the boiling guilt in her stomach turning over into simmering anger.

"Yeah, you meant it when you said you couldn't see yourself settling down with anyone but me?" Her entire body was trembling and she had stunned him into silence. "Looks like I was just never worth making the effort for. I mean, after all, I'm just a given, right." Her voice was cold as she tried to shoulder past him but he blocked her.

"C'mon, you're twisting my words!" He begged. "You know that's not what I meant. I am crazy about you, Riley, please, this doesn't change anything for me."

“It changes things for me.” She spat and he swayed back like she’d hit him. His pulse was threatening to spike him into the carpet. How had everything gone so wrong? “We make each other worse, Max. And I can’t do it anymore.” Finally managing to get past him, she made a break for the door.

Breezing through, she let it slam behind her, taking off as quickly as possible down the hallway, shoes be damned, she couldn't force herself to care. She picked up her pace at the sound of his door opening behind her, hustling toward the elevator. Maybe she was running away but she couldn't take any more, she needed to fly as many miles away from him as she could get and let her heart break in private.

"Riley!" He shouted after her, having slung his sweats on so quickly he nearly face planted. He couldn't let her get away, not this time, not when he knew he might never see her again if he let her slip away now. But she was jamming on the elevator button as if it would make it come faster, nervously glancing back. "Stop, Riley, come on!"

He didn’t take long to catch up to her, blocking the still-closed doors of the elevator with his body.

“Get out of the way.” She demanded, a hand on her hip.

“No. You can’t go like this. Not after last night.” His eyes pleaded with her, arms spread wide to barricade her path. Her gaze on him lingered but broke the second the elevator dinged above his head.

“Last night wasn’t real, Max.” She replied plainly as if it wasn’t another dagger through her chest. His shoulders slumped but he still didn’t move out of the open door. “Move.”

“Last night was as real as it gets, Riley, and you know it.” He insisted but she shook her head, eyes narrowed. “It was the most real night we’ve ever had.” The elevator doors attempted to close but he held them open forcefully.

“Well isn’t that sad for us?” She frowned, eyes drawn and dark, and Max’s arm fell. The sting behind her eyes was starting to eat away at her; she needed to get some distance now. She used the opportunity to slip past him, into the elevator.

“Riley, I need you…” He pleaded, but she clung to the back wall, just like she had the night before - she needed it now more than ever. Look at what a mess she made when she let herself off that tether.

“And I loved you." She confessed, sending his heart through his chest. " But I never want to see you again."

Max stumbled back a step, stricken, his eyes crawling over her, wide and desperate. The elevator slid closed between them and left them each in a suffocating silence, swallowing up all the oxygen around them.

Riley finally slumped down to the floor of the elevator, face falling in her hands. Her chest ached in a new and unbearable way that made her whole body shake. The pain radiated down to her toes, engulfing her.

Last night played on a loop in her mind. She was his, all his, every inch - that was what he said right? Her fingers traced delicately over the bruised skin he had left behind. All his. But never hers.

Her head fell back against the hard wall of the elevator, drawing in a shaky breath. Some palate cleanser, she thought bitterly. Eyes drifting shut, she wondered if every relationship she had ever been in hadn’t just been cleansing her palate of him.

But she wasn’t sure there was anything that could ever wipe this taste from her mouth. She had just decimated her palate all at once. Maybe that was for the best.

—-

Part Two

Prequel if you please

#MJF Smut #MJF fanfiction #MJF Fanfic #aew fic #wrestling fic #aew smut #aew fanfiction #MJF #MJF x OFC

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sgrdoll · 2 years

Text

Bet on It

synopsis - aew star hook has a fascination with the pretty makeup artist backstage. his friend bets he can’t go an entire night without bothering her.

warnings - smut, fuckboy!hook, hook shamelessly yearning, ofc, sub!ofc, dom!hook, blowjob, face fucking

a/n - hi! i’m back again but with something a little different. i know this probably won’t be my most popular fic bc it’s such a niche fandom. however, i really like pro wrestling and i hope you all can enjoy this fic regardless of if you like it or not. love you guys!!!

masterlist

Tyler’s eyes narrowed when she walked across the room. The way she dressed made him want to throw his head back and groan.

He was leaned against the wall watching her do the makeup of some of the women that were going on tonight.

As far as he knew she was the head makeup artist for the company and did her job pretty damn good, always in a pair of heels with her hair perfectly done too.

The outfit she had on today was a little more revealing than what he was used to but he definitely didn’t mind. The baby pink skirt and matching top made her body look out of this fucking world.

Tyler had never needed to go to the makeup chair before so they had never officially crossed paths. However, he’s been watching her since the first time Cody brought his wrestling class to their first TV taping.

She’s always there, and she’s always working. Currently, she was talking to Britt while doing some crazy eyeshadow look on her that seemed impossibly difficult to him.

Ty could hear her giggle from where he was standing and he wanted nothing more than to go over there and drag her back to his private lockeroom and have his way with her.

“Again, man? You gotta leave her alone,” Dante Martin put a hand on his shoulder which Tyler immediately shrugged off.

He knew he was joking but it still hit a little too close to him. Tyler always wondered if she noticed him and the close eye he kept on her.

“Shut up. Don’t you have a top rope or something to jump off?” Tyler rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you just go talk to her,” Dante ignored his previous comment.

“What would I even say? ‘Oh hey, I’ve been staring at you for the past year and I want to do you in my hotel room?’”

Dante laughed, “You don’t obsess over a girl for an entire year and only want to fuck her. We both know you actually like her.”

Ty had never had a serious relationship before and didn’t desire it. He was very focused on his career and didn’t have time for any distractions, even ones with impossibly long legs and high cheek bones.

“That’s exactly why I can’t talk to her. I’m way too busy. I don’t have time to treat her like she deserves,” he grumbled back in response.

His friend grinned, “How can you say shit like that and not see it?”

“See what, asshole,” he hissed back.

“That you’re not going to be able to just stop thinking about her.”

“I could totally stop thinking about her if I wanted to. She’s like, like a side hobby,” Tyler responded a bit flustered.

“A side hobby?” Dante was hysterically laughing at this point.

“If she’s such a side hobby, let’s make a bet,” Dante said to him.

“Oh yeah? What kind of bet?” Tyler was intrigued at this point. He was never one to turn down a challenge. He stopped leaning on the wall and stood up straight.

“If you can leave her alone for the rest of the show - that means no looking at her, no standing by the makeup chairs, and no scaring off the rookies who try and flirt with her - I’ll pay for you to finish the rest of your sleeve,” Dante said slyly.

Tyler’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Dude, my tattoo artist is charging me $2500 in cash for that.”

“I know. But I’m almost positive you won’t win,” he laughed.

“What happens if I lose?” Ty inquired.

“I get your private lockeroom for 5 more Dynamites,” Dante responded matter of factly.

“Bro, my dad rents that out for me.”

“Yeah and everyone fucking hates you for it,” Dante added.

“Call me daddy’s money all you want but I get to do my pre-match ritual in silence, without you assholes screaming in my ear.”

“And that’s what I want.”

“Fine. You have a deal,” Tyler stuck his hand out and Dante shook it.

“There’s no way you’re winning,” Dante cackled while walking away from him.

Tyler walked to catering and tried not to think about her there without him. It was stupid really. She had been working there longer than he had and he was scared for her well-being.

He sighed and stabbed the chicken on his plate with a fork. It was going to be a long ass night.

Dynamite had started a couple of hours later and he had a match tonight, but for some reason he couldn’t focus.

Well, not some reason. He knew the exact reason, and she was most likely sucking on hard candy and playing on her phone in the backstage area.

Tyler tried hard to shake it off, he really did. But he couldn’t jepordize his match for some stupid bet.

His phone dinged and it was a text message from Dante.

Are you cracking yet, lover boy?

Tyler wanted to hurl his phone at the wall. He felt like he was going absolutely insane. He wanted to slap himself for allowing his attraction to her for getting this far.

Ty hated to admit it to himself, but he did actually like her. He liked her much more than a one night stand or a casual hookup.

He had been going backing forth between the pros and cons of just going to find her when the Bucks walked into his dressing room.

Tyler immediately stood up from his seated position when they walked in. He pulled himself together so he could talk to his bosses.

He stuck his hand out to shake theirs, “What can I do for you guys?”

After they finished shaking hands with each other Matt started talking, “It’s about your match tonight. Tony made a last minute decision for you to go over.”

Tyler’s face was one of surprise, “Like, win the TNT title?”

“Yeah,” Matt brushed over this news, “Sorry it’s on such short notice, kid.”

“No, don’t sweat it. I’m psyched,” Tyler tried to keep his cool.

“We figured you would be. Go change the finish with Sammy and you’ll be set. We watched you guys practice this morning and the match you have planned should stay the same. The only change we want is for you to tap him out,” Nick instructed the young talent.

“Of course. Thank you so much. This means a lot to me,” Tyler was very grateful for this opportunity but also incredibly nervous.

The group exchanged pleasantries for a while longer until they left the room. Ty could feel his heart speeding up. There was no way he could go out to win a title feeling like this.

His palms were sweating and despite the news he had his focus was still somewhere else. He checked his watch to see he had an hour and thirty minutes until he was gonna go out.

Fuck the bet.

There was no way in hell Ty was going to fuck up the biggest match of his career over a bet.

He threw a hoodie and sweats over his gear and stepped out of dressing room, already feeling the clouds clear out of his head.

Ty booked it to the makeup chairs like he was being chased.

He stopped just a few steps behind where she was lounging.

She was perched on one of the chairs with her legs swinging. She was on her phone with a cherry red sucker in her mouth, just as he suspected.

She was a sight for sore eyes and he felt relief wash over him knowing she was perfectly fine.

“Hey,” he said suddenly making her look up from her phone. His voice was a surprise to his own ears. He had never spoken to her and now was probably not the best time to start.

She looked up at him from her chair and took the sucker out of her mouth, “Hey.”

The way she was smiling at his made his chest ache, “I was wondering if you could fix my hair before my match. I totally slept on it wrong.”

She looked skeptical. Tyler knew he sounded stupid. His hair was probably the easiest in the world to manage. All he did was run a brush through it and call it a day.

“Of course. Hook, right?” She called him by his in ring name.

He chuckled as he sat down in her chair, “Yeah, but you can call me Tyler.”

When her fingers began to comb through his hair he wanted to groan.

“I’m Ariane, but everyone around her calls me Ari.”

He finally knew her name and it fit her perfectly. He could feel all of his nerves slipping from his body as she touched him. It was like she had some sort of magnetic aura that dissipated all of his anxiety.

He stayed quiet as she moved his hair every which way. Her long pink acrylics were perfectly scratching his scalp. Ty fought the urge to shiver and lean into her touch.

“What gear are you wearing tonight?” Ari asked.

“I’ve got the orange on tonight.”

“You always wear those,” she teased, “What about the chain?”

He pulled his gold chain out of his hoodie and showed her. He was impressed she knew he always wore a chain to the ring. It made Ty smile that Ari watched him maybe as much as he watched her.

She moved from behind him to get a better look at the chain.

Ari leaned in and touched the chain around his neck. Her tan fingers brushed against the pulse point on his neck. He closed his eyes and took in a breath. Her long dark extensions created a curtain between them and the outside world. Tyler wanted to feel her hands on him forever.

Their eyes locked for a second and she smiled at him in a way that made him want to bend her over his lap and make her start fucking counting.

He tried not to lose control of the situation. It felt like she was holding him in the palm of her hand.

“This is really nice. It’s different than the ones you usually wear,” Ariane said finally and stepping away from him.

His mouth twitched into a small smile, “You pay a lot of attention to my chains?”

“You’re the only guy on the roster who doesn’t ask for my advice on gear. I like to see what you’re wearing.”

“Well, this one was my dad’s in the 90’s. He wore it when he proposed to my mom,” Ty couldn’t figure out why he was volunteering this information. He kept most of his personal life to himself but she made him spill his guts with only a few words.

“And you’re wearing it to win your first title,” she must’ve noticed the look he gave her, “You tend to hear a lot when you’re doing an entire roster’s makeup and hair.”

“The chain is a good luck charm. It made my mom say yes, maybe it’ll keep me from fucking up any spots,” he joked.

“I’ve never seen you mess up a spot before,” Ari rolled her eyes adorably.

Tyler really wanted to grab her and kiss her. Actually, he wanted to do more than that, he wanted to take her back to his dressing room and flip up that impossibly tiny skirt and fuck her. He had to get himself back under control.

He took a deep breath and stood up. He was standing almost chest to chest with her. Ty had a few inches on her, even with her heels. He looked down at her parted lips and smiled.

“Next time you have any advice on my gear, you can come find me in my dressing room,” his words dripped with sexual innuendo that made her noticeably flustered.

He walked away from the makeup area and to gorilla. Ty stripped down into his gear and waited for the women’s match to end.

He felt way more confident than he had in his lockeroom. Tyler was calm, satiated even. He talked to Ari for the first time ever and even flirted with her. He could comfortably take her off of his mind for now.

He was ready to go out there and have the best match of his life.

Even though he felt on top of the world, he still felt anxiety pooled in his belly. Any person in their right mind would.

This is going to be his first title run and he wants it to be amazing.

“Hey,” Sammy grabbed his shoulder, “The Bucks wanted me to come talk about the match with you.”

His calm attitude didn’t last long when he heard Sammy’s voice. Sammy Guevera was not an easy person to be around. Almost everyone on the roster hated him, besides his equally annoying wife, Tay.

“Yeah. All we have to do is keep the same combinations until the last three minutes. They want a submission victory so I was thinking you try for a frog splash and I catch you midair. I’ll give you a couple of suplexes and then put you in the redrum.”

“Whatever,” sammy rolled his eyes like the asshole he is, “I’m still pissed they sprung this on me last minute.”

“Maybe it’s because you called one of the most experienced veterans in the back a jobber,” Ty spit back at him.

Just because they had a match did not mean they had to like each other.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Sammy grumbled while walking away.

As the semi-main event ended with Britt holding her championship with a confident smirk on her face. He felt like his chest was on fire the closer it got to his match.

Tyler stood up and took a deep breath. He had seven minutes until his entire life would be changed.

He knew he had to go out first and stood at the curtain.

The match went off without a hitch. Tyler was surprised considering Sammy kept giving him stiff punches and slapping him in the face.

Ty kept it professional, though and managed to finish the match without actually beating the shit out of him.

He walked to the back with the TNT titled draped over his shoulder as the backstage personnel and Tony Khan gave him a standing ovation.

His dad was the first person to hug him and tell him how proud he was. Tyler fought tears when they embraced.

He thanked everyone profusely and spoke to Tony privately about how grateful he was.

Ty was in the middle of picking up his sweats and hoodie when Dante came into view. He mentally groaned, he was going to get so much shit from him.

Dante wrapped gave Tyler a hug and when he pulled away he smiled, “Couldn’t do it could ya, champ?”

“Fuck off,” Tyler groaned, “It was the only way that match wasn’t gonna be shit. It was impossible to focus with her on my mind.”

“You sound like a fucking love sick puppy,” Dante laughed at him.

“Yeah yeah. What are we doing to celebrate?” Ty smirked at his friend.

“I’ve got some of the boys together and we can go grab drinks downtown. This is my first time in Nashville so I think Bowens is picking.”

“Sounds great. Let me go take a quick shower,” he replied walking away.

“Enjoy that private shower while it lasts!” Dante called from behind him.

Tyler just flipped him off and kept walking to his dressing room. He really was dreading giving it away for five weeks.

Just before he made it to his lockeroom he saw Ari leaning against the wall next to the his dressing room door texting on her phone.

“Hey,” he smiled at her.

She looked up at him, “Hey, champ. That was a great match. Congratulations.”

Her smiled was so genuine and happy it made his heart flutter a little bit, “Thanks. Hey, some of the guys are going out to celebrate. Wanna come with?”

Tyler watched as her green eyes lit up at the prospect of going out with him.

“I’d love to, but before I think you told me I should come into your lockeroom when I had any thoughts about your gear,” she gave him a sultry look through her false eyelashes.

His mouth quirked into a smile, “Yeah, and what is it you wanna say about my gear, doll?”

“I think it would look much better off,” she had an innocent look in her eyes despite the words she was saying.

This turned him onto no end. He didn’t even bother to say anything else, he just opened the door and pulled her inside.

He quickly locked the door and pressed her against it. Their lips touched and it felt like his skin was buzzing against her own.

He kissed a trail down her neck. He sucked and nipped at the delicate skin until there was a distinct hickey.

“Such a fucking tease all the time, hm? All those tiny little outfits” He said against her neck.

Tyler could hear her shaky breathing and the occasional whimper.

He smiled against her skin and finally pulled away, “If you want to stop, just say so.”

With that he tugged her over to the couch and pulled her onto his lap.

Their mouths were on one another’s in an instant. Their lips moved in a feverish manner, as if they couldn’t get enough of each other.

Ari was the first to pull away, “Let me properly congratulate you on your win, champ.”

She slinked down to her knees in front of him and put her hands on his bare thighs.

Tyler’s hand ran through her hair and Ari spoke again, “It’s a wonder it’s taken you this long to say something.”

He looked down at her in confusion as she started to palm him through his shorts, “I’ve seen you stand at my makeup station for months and stare at my ass. That’s why I’m dressed like this tonight.”

She kissed his thigh and whispered, “Just for you.”

Tyler finally said something, “Dressing like a whore at work just to impress me? I’m honored, baby.”

Ari rested her head against his thigh and stared at his hard on still confined in his pants.

Ty wrapped a hand in her and forced her to sit up properly, “Are you gonna let the champ fuck your face doll?”

She nodded eagerly, “Please fuck my face Tyler.”

He didn’t have to hear anymore, he pulled his cock out, “Stick your tongue out.”

Ariane shivered at his dominant voice and did what she was told.

He used his hand that was wrapped in her hair to guide her down his cock. Ty slowly sunk his cock in her mouth and groaned out when she made it to the base.

She began gagging a little bit and he let her pull off, “You’re so big,” she whimpered.

Ty thought she looked so cute like this, almost frustrated she couldn’t take him all the way down her throat, “You’ll make it work, baby.”

She wrapped her lips around his tip and looked up at him to signal that she was ready for him to continue

He started bobbing her head up and down his cock. His groans made her even wetter than she was.

Ty kept cursing in his deep voice and watched as he fingers snaked in between her legs and underneath her skirt.

“Cant even handle sucking cock without something inside you? Fucking hell,” he chastised her while moving her head faster.

He threw his head back when she started swirling her tongue around his length.

“Fuck,” Ty said aloud, “I’m gonna cum down that pretty throat.”

She nodded her head around him to assure him it was okay. Somehow he forced her to choke his cock down even faster.

Ari sucked impossibly hard and his hips bucked up into her mouth right before he came. She felt his hot seed shoot down her throat in long spurts and whimpered around him.

When he was finished with her he took her off of him.

They both stopped for a moment, him breathless and her with spit around her mouth and tears in her eyes.

“Come here,” he said while putting his shorts back on properly.

Ari obediently sat in the couch next to him before he grabbed her waist and sat her on his lap.

His arms wrapped around her, “We don’t have to go out with them tonight. We can go back to my hotel room and talk or something. I don’t want you to think I wanted this as a one time thing.”

Her voice was hoarse when she first started talking, “Today is a big day for you. You deserve to go out and celebrate.”

“Did you drive here?” He asked, ignoring her last comment.

“No, I ubered, why?”

“I’ll drive you back to the hotel then. Or the bar, it whatever you want, baby,” he smiled at her warmly.

She whined, “I can’t let you not celebrate you’re first title win. I’ll come with you to the bar and we can talk about all of this later.”

Tyler kissed the crown of Ari’s, “You know this wasn’t a one time thing for me, right? I want to have something real for you.”

She lifted her gaze to his, “Then we’re on the same page.”

#aew smut #hook smut #aew #wrestling #smut #fluff #angst #hook aew #dante martin #jon moxley #aew fluff #pro wrestling #hook x ofc #ofc #dom!sub #sub!ofc #dom!hook #au

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let-me-love-you-loki · 4 months

Text

Nowhere to Run--Ch. 59

A/N: If you've never heard it, the song mentioned in this chapter is I Remember You by Skid Row.

Chapter 59

Jericho sat in the armchair beside Kat watching her sleeping. He was grateful that she had finally been able to get some rest after the undeniable trauma of giving birth in the back hallway of a sports arena with two dozen people looking on. She’d passed out in the ambulance on the way to the hospital when the pain and the afterbirth had finally taken the last of her strength with it. He’d watched in a torn sort of terror, not sure who needed him more. He hadn’t been able to take a breath until the doctors had assured him that both Kat and their daughter were fine and healthy.

Our daughter, he thought as he looked down at the warm and surprisingly heavy bundle in his arms. Dressed in a onesie, she snuggled against his chest within the blankets. She suckled gently on a pacifier as she slept, her little fist tucked up against her cheek. Her eyes were the same faded blue as his own though her wispy hair was closer to Kat’s. He couldn’t get past the soft curve of her cheeks and the rings around her wrists and ankles. The little bitty nose that scrunched when she wailed her displeasure.

He’d never imagined that he would be here, a newborn in his arms and the woman he loved asleep close by. It was almost more than he could fathom. She rustled, a faint whine as she settled back against his chest. Jericho sighed and cuddled her closer.

Several hours had passed since Kat had suddenly given birth in the back hallway of Daily’s Place, half the roster watching, Tony Khan holding her up and Jack Perry catching the baby. The ambulance had shown up just after their daughter made her first appearance, whisking the three of them to the emergency room. Jericho was given charge of the baby while the paramedics took care of Kat, ensuring everything was as it should be.

An examination, a few stitches, and some pain medication later, Kat was settled in a room in an exhausted sleep with their daughter in a hospital bassinet at the bedside. Jericho could finally breathe, even though the reality of being a father had begun settling in his chest.

***

It felt like it took forever to wake up. There was an ache between my legs that spiked whenever I moved my hips. Someone had put what felt like a diaper on me. Cramps coursed across my lower stomach. I was so exhausted.

Eyes closed, I just let myself settle against the pillow beneath my head. I took a few breaths, trying my best to ease the pain. I must have been given some kind of painkiller as there was a dull edge to it. For that, I was definitely grateful.

“Woke up to the sound of pouring rain.” Chris’ voice came over me slowly. It was soft and low, a melodic timbre to it. A few seconds passed before I realized he was singing. Heavy metal power ballad turned into lullaby.

The wind would whisper and I’d think of you

And all the tears you cried, that called my name

And when you needed me I came through

I paint a picture of days gone by,

When love went blind and you would make me see…

My throat tightened. Tears stung my eyes as I squeezed them shut tightly. I just wanted to stay in this moment. It didn’t matter that I was in pain or uncomfortable or in a diaper. There was something so fundamental about listening to the man I loved singing softly to our newborn child. It made my heart ache in the most beautiful way.

“I know you’re awake,” Chris said with a happy indulgence. His voice sounded different somehow. It sent waves of warmth through me as I opened my eyes. There he was, sitting in the armchair beside my bed with our daughter swaddled in a blanket while she held his finger in her fist. “How do you feel?”

I shifted, letting out a faint grunt of discomfort and pain as I pushed myself into a sitting position. It was more than just my hips and between my legs now. My chest had begun aching, my breasts feeling heavy and sore. “Tired. Aching.” I held out my arms. “Give her here.”

He frowned and cuddled her a little tighter. “You rest. I’ve got her.”

I reached upward to unbutton the shoulder of my hospital gown. “Please. It hurts.”

The realization spread over his face as he stood up to cross the space between us. I tucked my gown out of the way and took her from his arms, settling her against my chest. I took the pacifier from her mouth and handed it to Chris. Her bright blue eyes opened as she started to wail.

“Shh, shh,” I hummed softly as I held her against my breast. She nuzzled against my flesh before finding and latching on to my nipple. I let out a sigh of relief as she began suckling, feeling as if the pressure began to ease.

***

Jericho watched in a sort of awe as Kat cradled their daughter against her breast. Of course, he’d been hyper aware of the way her breasts had changed throughout her pregnancy, growing fuller, heavier, more sensitive. He couldn’t count how many nights he’d been in bed beside her gently caressing and tasting her flesh. There weren’t words enough to explain how his desire for her had changed over the last nine months. But this was different. This was something breathtaking and beautiful in the most ancient and astounding way.

He drew the chair closer to the side of the bed. His fingers settled against her face, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered with reverence. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her, momentarily unable to see anything else but Kat Prince.

She leaned into his touch, her eyes momentarily falling shut. Their daughter snuggled against her breast and suckled heartily. Jericho felt his heart swell and burst in his chest. His pulse spiked, adrenaline and pride and an absolute ferocity of protectiveness ran through him.

His fingers trembled slightly as he brushed the soft curve of the baby’s cheek. “She needs a name,” he said softly, gesturing to the end of the bassinet where a sticker reading Baby Girl Jericho was taped to the end.

“I have a few ideas,” Kat whispered with a faint grin. Suddenly, she gave a faint laugh. “Were you singing Skid Row as a lullaby?”

***

There were too many people in the waiting room. Jack felt his head spinning. He’d lost track of time since the ambulance raced away from Daily’s Place with Kat. Someone told him he’d wrestled a match and won, but he didn’t remember a second of it. He couldn’t get the moment when he’d caught that baby in his arms out of his mind. It was almost too much for him to fathom. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. It felt like he was going to pass out.

For a moment, his memory flashed back to the last days in the hospital before his father died. He remembered standing outside his father’s room, back against the wall and tears pouring down his face, as Kat said her goodbyes inside.

He was trying so hard to be strong for his mother and his sister. For his father. If it hadn’t been for Kat, he would have broken long before then. She had been his strength throughout the whole ordeal.

He sucked in a breath and turned toward the sound of the door opening to his left. Kat slipped out into the hallway wiping tears from her cheeks. He reached for her, hooking his arm behind her neck and drawing her quickly against his chest. Her fingers wrapped into fists in his shirt as she sobbed against his shoulder. Whatever his father had said to her had hit hard. He could only imagine that he’d called her Katarina and made her smile.

“He wants you,” she murmured as she turned to press her cheek against his chest. “It won’t be long, Jack.”

“I know,” he replied as a heavy weight settled in his gut. “Go wait with mom and So. They need you right now, too.”

She’d hugged him tight before rising up on her toes to press a soft kiss against his lips. She held onto him tightly for a moment, as if she wanted to give him every ounce of her strength. “I love you, Jack Jack.”

He watched her walk away before running his hand through his hair, shoving it back off his face and drawing in a deep breath. When he pushed the door open, his heart dropped into his toes. The many lying in the hospital bed wasn’t the father he’d known. The Luke Perry he’d known had been full of fire and life and laughter. There was barely any of that left in his eyes then.

“Hey, Dad,” he said as he crossed to his father’s bedside. He perched on the edge of the mattress and took his hand. “Kat said you wanted to see me.”

Luke swallowed hard, dragging in ragged breaths. His face was earnest. Like there was something important that he wanted to say. “Jack.” Luke’s voice was broken and low. “Take care… o-o-of Mom and Sophie. Ka-Kata-ri-rina. Please.”

“Of course,” he replied, nauseous at the sight of his father struggling to speak. “I always will. You know that. I… I’m going to ask Kat to marry me, Dad.”

Something sad settled in Luke’s eyes. He squeezed his son’s hand with as much strength as he had. “Help… h-elp her be ha-happy.” The way he said it made the words sound less like a blessing and more like a resignation.

“Perry!”

The sound of his name snapped him out of his memory. For a minute, he didn’t know where he was. Once he recognized that he was in a hospital, tears rushed down his face. Past and present slammed into one another as he tried to convince himself that he wasn’t waiting for news that his father was gone. He was waiting for news that Kat and her baby were okay.

He looked up and saw Chris Jericho standing a few feet away. The older man looked tired even while his eyes were lit up with something like euphoria. Jericho hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans and shrugged.

“Kat wants to see you.”

___________________

Tag List

@spaghetti-hoop

@rollynchwhore

@mrsmatt

@lilred91

@unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin

@not-that-kinda-gurl08

@ryantaylorgirl

@thenerdybaker523

@daddyslittlevillain

@mariejr88-blog

#nowhere to run #chris jericho #chris jericho fanfiction #aew #aew fanfiction #inner circle fanfiction #inner circle #jack perry #multi-chapter #ofc #oc #kat prince #chris x kat #may/december romance

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punkjinshi · 5 months

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Welp… Now that Trent and Chuck are broken up I can invest in my Trent x Shida propaganda with zero guilt

#I’m so glad they’re not my hyper fixation anymore other wise I would LITTERALLY be sick as fuck right now #growth #trent beretta #chuck taylor #hikaru shida #aew #all elite wrestling #long haired pretty boy Trent x Shida ofc #bald Trent needs his me time

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ilovebeingintroverted · 11 months

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@mjfsupremacy hear me out. Crazy girl and Pretty Boy date night this is something she totally would do 🤣🤣🤣

#mjf #aew #cat distribution system #OC #mjf x ofc #please please please please I’m begging you

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mjfsupremacy · 2 years

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Exchange

It's me, Hi!

This is part one of a new fic I've been working on for the last few weeks, it's a reader x MJF BUT the reader has a name, it's a thing-ish. You can ignore it or like change it in your head or whatever you like, I don't dictate how you read my work, I'm just kicking my feet and blushing that you do read my work at all.

Moderate swearing throughout the entire fic. Mentions of MJF being the cringiest MFer to ever enter the country of England.

The first time you have the pleasure of making Maxwell Jacob Friedman's acquaintance, you wish it was the last.

You never minded working the night desk of the on-campus housing at your university in the three years since your first year. The pay was decent, you worked Thursdays, Fridays, and every second weekend, and you only had to work a few hours before the doors got locked and security had to be called if someone wanted to get in. You were usually tucked up safe in bed by one a.m. at the latest. For the most part it was an easy, quiet job and it gave plenty of time for studying or the chance to catch up on your reading or gaming.

It was Friday, a fairly busy one at that but the bustle hadn’t stopped you from powering through your coursework in record time. You’d finished all your homework, and the Nintendo Switch in your grasp had your full attention when the beep of a student card at the front door pulled your gaze just before midnight.

You can hear someone talking I’m a low tone and a round of flirtatious giggles follow as the pair come into view. You recognise the girl; you are pretty sure her name is Maddy. She checks a different person in every weekend you work and honestly you are kind of obsessed with her in a ‘I wish I was as cool and pretty and fun as you’ kind of way.

Probably Maddy, and her new beau, stop in front of the white desk that tucks into the wall beside the front door. You set your Switch down and hand a clipboard and pen over the short glass with a polite smile. The girl you are like 78% sure is named Maddy, takes the pen and then frowns, turning to the guy beside her. “I don’t know your name.”

He smirks, lifting the pen from her fingers and scribbling down his name and contact number. You think he looks a bit full of himself in his wine button up, pressed black slacks, and an actual Burberry scarf. His tawny hair is curly but fastidiously styled, and his skin obviously fake tanned. When he replies to her, you think that calling him ‘A bit full of himself’ was perhaps a bit polite.

“Don’t worry, Toots, I’ll have you screaming it in no time.”

A right wanker. Even worse, an American. Gross.

He all but throws the clipboard and pen at you with a saucy wink and you have to swallow down the urge to throw up. He leads a giggling Maddy away with a hand low on her back. You hang your head in the hopes of hiding your disgust, your eyes scrolling over the sign-in sheet in your hands and your nose crinkles further.

In big, surprisingly neat block lettering that takes up five lines of the list is his name; MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN. Below, in a slightly smaller font was his number along with a note that read ‘call me anytime, sweet-cheeks x’

You gag, swivel your chair around to the shredder and dispose of the page without a second thought. Perhaps you put Maybe Maddy on a bit too high of a pedestal.

The following Thursday, you are about to pack up for the night, a well loved and overly annotated copy of Persuasion stacked on top of your laptop, waiting for you to switch the phone to after hours, lock the doors, and make your escape when you hear the familiar beep and whoosh from a few steps away.

“Hey!” A girl you’ve never seen before calls to you in a light Irish accent, all bright smiles and glassy eyes. “Is it too late to check in?”

You shake your head, offering her a small smile which quickly becomes rigid at the sight of a man in a Burberry scarf following her through the door with a familiar cocky smirk. Maxwell Jacob Friedman.

You were on your way to lock the door when they came in, so you reach over the glass to grab the clipboard and pen handing them to the girl who sighs a thank-you gratefully. You quickly dart around them to secure the door so no one else can get in without security before returning to your spot in front of the white door that leads to your spot at the desk.

You can feel him watching you and a quick glance over confirms it. Maxwell’s gaze scales your body from top to bottom, giving nothing away. You fleetingly wonder what a man with expensive taste such as him thinks of your oversized hoodie, mismatched and equally loose tracksuit pants, and lurid pink moccasins. You get your answer when his dark eyes meet yours and they are filled with a mix of amusement and distaste.

Rude.

The girl passes the sheet to him so he can put his phone number down and he takes its, scoffing at whatever she’s written, scribbling it out and then writing below it quickly. He passes it to you along with the pen before wrapping his arm around his date, throwing you a smirk and heading down the hall.

You glance down at the clipboard in your hands once they have disappeared and sigh.

Max Freeman

MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN

2133 361 669

you didn’t call, gorgeous. I’m hurt. Nice sweatpants.

You key in the code to the little office that your desk chair sits in and head directly to the paper shredder again. God this guy is a prick. You really hoped you never had to see him again.

Two days later he walks through the door with a pretty brunette on his arm and a giant grin on his face that only grows at the sight of you.

“Desk Girl, tell me; Do you have a life or is this as good as it gets for you? I’m almost think I should feel sorry for you, I mean, I would but you have practically unfettered access to me being here which is obviously a gift.”

You actually couldn’t tell if he’s joking or not, but you are blessed from having to answer when the girl he’s with pulls her arm away from his with a scowl. “So, you’re here often then?”

You can see the exact moment Maxwell realises he fucked up and he quickly pours out an excuse to placate his new hook-up. “Yeah, yeah, I have a friend from one of my classes here! We study together a lot. That’s how I know desk girl here, right?” His dark innocent eyes meet yours and they widen dramatically as if to beg you to go along with it. The girl’s glare cuts to you and you just shrug handing him the sheet and pen for a third time.

He scribbles on the clipboard hastily, all but throwing it back at you with a scowl before grabbing his date by the hand and pulling her down the corridor. You offer a little finger wave and his glare hardens when he realises your fucking with him.

MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN

2133 361 6693

way to have my back, beautiful. And here I was thinking we were friends. What do you do with these by the way. I know you aren’t keeping them; you would’ve called me by now if you were, I’m irresistible.

You rolled your eyes folded up the page and moved to the shredder for the third time. The phone rings and you tucked the sheet into your copy of The Bell Jar instead, not thinking about it again until later that night when your comfortable in bed and it falls into your lap.

Huffing a laugh, you flick it into your bedside drawer.

You don’t see Maxwell until your next Saturday shift two weeks later. A hopeful part of you wonders if maybe his exchange had ended or if the entire country of England had decided unanimously to reopen the Tower of London for its intended purpose. Unfortunately, he struts through the door on the arm of another girl before you can wonder if they’ll let you throw stones at him in his cell.

The girl he’s with is in your modern lit class and she waves excitedly when she spots you. Her name is Lisa and she normally stops to talk to you about books whenever she catches you at your desk.

“Hey! I was hoping you were in tonight!” Lisa gushes, lifting the flap on her messenger bag and pulling out a book. “I just finished this today and I knew you would love it. When I tell you it’s absolute trash in the best possible way, oh my God.”

You take the book with a grin, doing your best to ignore the smug looking man attached to Lisa’s hip. You set the book down beside your laptop and pass Maxwell the clipboard and pen. His fingers graze yours unnecessarily as he takes them from you.

“What are you reading?” Lisa asks peaking over at the well loved blue book on your desk, tabs and sticky notes poking out from seemingly every page. You hand it to her and her eyes instantly fill with excitement. “Egghead! I’ve wanted to read this forever. I take it you like it if the look of it is anything to go by.”

You blush and offer a shrug, “Bo Burnham always understood me.” You joke quietly. Maxwell stops scribbling and looks up at you in shock. You suddenly realise that you’ve never spoken in front of him before. He looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it, learning his lesson after last time.

“You can borrow it if you like,” You offer Lisa. “I’ve read it a hundred times; besides I have a masterpiece to get around.” You tap the book she gave you wryly, before taking the offerings from Maxwell whose face is alternating between an annoyed scowl and curiosity.

“Are you sure? I love reading all your notes, you always spot hidden meanings I have no hope of catching.” Lisa asks, clutching the book to her chest. You can’t help but grin at her hopeful expression.

“I’m sure. Have fun.”

“Oh, she will.” Maxwell adds in a typical smug tone throwing an arm around Lisa’s shoulders. Lisa laughs, grabbing his hand and leading him down the corridor.

“Thanks, Ellie! I’ll drop it back once I’m finished. Have a good night!” Lisa throws over her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Maxwell adds. “Have a good night... Ellie.” You roll your eyes and fall into your chair, grabbing the clipboard on the way.

MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN

2133 361 6693

So, you speak, how interesting. Irish? See I would’ve known this about you already, Doll, if you’d called, or texted, or smoke signalled. Before you lock this one away in your box of treasures, good tip is to try saving the number first.

You don’t know why you tuck the note into your textbook, but you do, and you don’t think of it again until your throwing it in your bedside table drawer with the other one.

#maxwell jacob friedman #mjf fanfiction #mjf fanfic #mjf imagine #mjf #mjf x reader #mjf x ofc #aew fic #aew #maxwell jacob friedman fanfic #maxwell jacob friedman fanfiction #maxwell jacob friedman x reader #maxwell jacob friedman x ofc #mjf x oc #maxwell jacob friedman x oc

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lancearcherinrippedjeans · 2 years

Text

Eternity - Chapter 9

*************

Is has been ALMOST A YEAR. WOW. So many of you have been waiting, here it is.

*************

Starring - Sawyer Holden, Veronica Rodriguez, Nova Jay, Kenny Omega, Adam Page, WARHORSE, The Young Bucks and many small appearances

Word Count - 6,076

Category - Angst, violence, small comedy bits, but this is a very "dark" chapter

Chapter 9/?

Summary - Full Gear has arrived. How will this rivalry end between Sawyer and Veronica? Their lives are about to change forever.

Warnings/Comments - There's so much violence and anger and NEGATIVITY in this chapter guys. Follow @adriii-omega

*************

ALLELITEWRESTLING-

BREAKING NEWS : The finals to see who will be the new number one contender for Hikaru Shida’s women championship will now be decided in a Barbed Wire Death Match! The matchup of Sawyer Holden and Veronica Rodriguez will now be the MAIN EVENT of Full Gear this Sunday!

Warhorse had been lifting in a gym near his home. Music blasting through his headphones, his mind was only on this last rep. The music quieted, meaning a notification had popped up. He sighed, before bending over to pick up his phone. His eyes largened, “Oh no… no. No!” He rolled his eyes, as he already saw tweets from the other AEW wrestlers picking sides. “I got to do something. They’re gonna to fucking get hurt!” He yelled in the gym, which he thanked God was pretty much empty.

He clicked on Sawyer’s contact name and typed out a text- “I’m calling you in 30 minutes.” Warhorse saw she read it, and shut the phone off before he could see her response. He was determined to wonder what was going on through his friend’s heads, knowing that neither of them were thinking straight.

Sawyer responded to the text, before throwing her phone back down. She got back to her spot on the mat, near Lance Archer. She shouldn’t have any distractions, especially not the night before this huge match. She kept her eyes on the red spots tapped down on the punching bag. She kept going faster and even harder as Lance Archer shouted things at her, keeping the punching bag in place.

They had been training her for this match since the night after the brawl that she claims Veronica started.

“Left! Right! Stomach!” Archer watched as Sawyer was definitely hitting the targets, but holding back on her strength. He pulled the punching bag away to where she couldn’t reach.

“What the hell, Lance?” Lance put his hands on Sawyer’s shoulders, “Sawyer, you’re supposed to be my baby murderhawk. And you won’t murder shit if you don’t get your head in the game.”

Sawyer opened her mouth to protest before he interrupted, “Close your eyes. I want you to think about the match.” Sawyer huffed, closing her eyes and crossing her arms.

“Now imagine, there’s exploding barbed wire all around you. There’s kendo sticks broken everywhere, thumbtacks all over the ground. And you and Veronica are standing face to face, you’re so close to winning that championship,” Sawyer visibly felt angrier, the thought of Veronica winning consuming her, when Lance slapped Sawyer one good time across the face, “And she once again slaps the taste out your mouth.”

Sawyer opens her mouth to yell at Lance before she realizes how angry Veronica made her, stooping that low, like they weren’t even equal anymore. Sawyer opened her eyes, throwing the boxing gloves off and turning back to the punching bag.

Lance held the bag in place as Sawyer delivered punches, this time not holding back. All Sawyer could see was Veronica’s sinister smirk, wanting to beat it off her face. Sawyer’s knuckles started to throb, ignoring it continuing to attack the bag.

The thought of Veronica standing tall at the end of the match made her lose it, causing the punching bag to rip open, sand falling everywhere. Sawyer didn’t even look surprised. She didn’t know how hard Veronica was training right now, but tomorrow, nothing would matter.

Sawyer didn’t want the championship opportunity. She wanted to humiliate Veronica, teach her a lesson. Hell, Sawyer wanted to end her best friend.

*************

“To the soon to be champions of All Elite Wrestling!” Brandon Cutler raised his drink in one hand, while holding his camera in the other. “Introducing your soon to be tag team champions… The Young Bucks!” Matt and Nick did their signature pose, making Veronica roll her eyes with a chuckle.

“Ooo me next!” Kenny rested his hand on Veronica’s waist, and with his free arm, flexed his bicep through his shirt. “Fine.” Brandon huffed. “The man who not only will win tomorrow, but go on to defeat Jon Moxley… the Cleaner… Kenny Omega!” The group applauded, as he made a couple faces at the camera.

“Introduce my girl,” he pointed at Veronica, making her grin. “How could we forget,” Cutler said, putting her in the frame, “The lovely, Veronica!”

Matt whistled, “Sawyer or Shida don’t stand a chance.” He smugged, while Nick draped his arm around her shoulder.

“You damn right they don’t!” Cutler screamed from the other side. She looked around in bliss, spacing out as the group joked around a bit.

Nick nudged her, “You alright? You sort of zoned out on us.” The group turned their heads looking at her, “Yea. Everything is perfect. Just thinking how good we’re all gonna look with the gold tomorrow.” She raised her glass in the air, causing the rest to clink their root bears.

Veronica stifled a yawn, and sipped on her drink slowly. She squeezed Kenny’s hand making him turn his attention to her, “I’m glad you’re here.” He whispered. She gave him a toothy grin as her heart began to flutter, “I am too. Tomorrow is our night.” He kissed the inside of her palm before setting it in his lap, and continuing his conversation with Nick about a recent video game he started playing. She only heard bits, as the only thing on her mind was not wanting to let down the people around her.

*************

Sawyer sat her phone up on her bathroom sink, just finishing her shower. Warhorse stared at her in silence, before speaking up, “I should be there.”

“Jake-“

“No! It’s true, I felt like I could have prevented this…COME ON A DEATH MATCH?! Whose brilliant idea was that?”

“Try Kenny Omega. You think I would trust myself with that idea?” Sawyer said, finishing drying her hair. He held his hands in defense, “I’m just saying Sawyer, Veronica has won more of these matches. I just don’t want you guys to actually hurt each other out there.”

“Jake, she’s hurt me more times I could count… but when she went against the script to embarrass me on national television, that’s when I knew she was putting that mop head, a championship, and this company over our friendship... I’ve accepted that I’m not getting my best friend back. And if that’s the case, I want her to be terrified of me.”

“Sawyer you don’t mean that,” Warhorse tried to reason with her, “It’s the heat of the moment. When you win and you’re celebrating, all you’re gonna want is Veronica there with you.”

“You can fly in, right? That’ll be enough.” Sawyer tried to say sarcastically, but Jake wasn’t amused. “I mean it, Sawyer. Be a good sport about it. Even if she won’t. Things may never be the same but that doesn’t mean to make the situation worse.”

Sawyer huffed, “Alright MOM. I’ll be a good sport. I guess you got a point.”

Warhorse smiled, “I know I do. Now! Get some rest, partying is the exact opposite of what you should be doing right now.” Sawyer groaned picking up the phone, “I will…but I would like to note that you said “WHEN” I win.” She cheekily grinned, making him groan.

“Oh my god! Goodnight Sawyer! I Love you.”

“Goodnight, Jake. Love you too.” Sawyer hung up, putting her phone on her nightstand.

*************

Sawyer set her stuff in her locker room. Sighing to herself. So many interviewers, makeup artists, and stage hands came up to her in the fifteen minutes it took to find her door. She looked in the mirror, questioning herself, “Is this all worth it? For revenge? To prove I’m not below her?”

Looking in the mirror, she began to wonder who she had become. The old Sawyer never let her anger get the best of her, but now, she couldn’t even recognize who the new Sawyer was. Her negative thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock, and before she could even answer, John Silver and Alex Reynolds walked in.

“There she is! The next number one contender!” Alex said, pulling Sawyer in for a hug. Sawyer clenched her teeth, trying to look as unannoyed as possible. “Hey you two! Silver, are you ready for your match?”

Silver put on a cocky smile, “Oh, you already know. Orange will never know what hit him, he’ll be like,” he cleared his throat, putting on a raspy and lazy voice, “Oh my god I can’t believe Silver beat me, I guess I should’ve gotten my hands out of my pockets.”

Alex laughed at Silver’s impression, while Sawyer cringed. Alex and John quickly noticed Sawyer wasn’t laughing, as they awkwardly quieted down.

Alex put his hand on Sawyer’s shoulder, “Are you okay? You seem…off.” Sawyer shook her head, “I’m great. Just the fact that my best friend has put me through living hell and tonight I’m finally giving her a taste of her own medicine.”

John cheered, receiving a glare from Alex. John mumbled sorry before Sawyer continued, “I mean, this could’ve all been avoided. If she just didn’t slap me on national television. Like what the hell?”

The two men looked at each other then back at Sawyer, nervous looks forming on their faces. “Yeah…about that.” Alex said, scratching the back of his head, shuffling away from Sawyer. She arched her brow, when Silver blurted out, “We were trying to help you out, but we ended up pissing her off…” John cringed, “And we’re the reason she kinda slapped you.”

Sawyer sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “So my life is being risked in a Barbed Wire DEATHMATCH, because you wanted to make her cry?”

“It was mainly John! He even called her a hoe!” Alex said, pointing at his tag partner. “Alex what the fuck!”

“JUST…get out. Please… before I kill both of you before the Buy-In even starts.” Sawyer said, grabbing her ring gear.

Alex and John shuffled out the locker room, before Alex peeped in one last time, “You’re gonna do great, Sawyer. The Dark Order is all rooting for you.”

Sawyer smiled, hearing the door shut. Her mood became lighter, as she really did realize that she might have lost a good friend, she was making more along the way.

*************

The preshow had just begun to start. The few fans took their seats around the arena and began to cheer as the countdown to Full Gear was on. Hangman had just come from collecting his new and “improved” gear for tonight when he saw Veronica walking in.

She looked stressed, her hair was tied up in a messy bun and her sweatpants sagged extra low. She honestly looked like she hadn’t had a good sleep in weeks. Seemingly to be in her own little world, not noticing any of her surroundings. “Thanks for making my gear, I bet it looks awesome!” She thanked the seamstress, before taking her items and beginning to head back. Hangman began to panic, holding his arm out while speaking before he got the chance to think. “I can’t wait to see it!” he shot.

She jumped in surprise, “Oh…I didn’t know you were here,” she eyed him suspiciously, “Thanks though… and good luck tonight.” She tried to leave again, until he pulled her back. “Wait, no. You’re not just gonna leave me here again. Aren’t we going to talk about-”

“I don’t think there’s anything to discuss. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we all got shit going on right now. I’m not trying to be a distraction.” She spat at him with a bit of venom. It stung him a bit, making him loosen his grip. “You aren’t a distraction to me V! I just thought I finally had a friend around here.” Her eyes softened, but she shook her head with disbelief. “Why do you keep trying with me… haven’t I given you enough reasons not to trust me Adam? I’m no good for you.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me…” He said to her, “Just like you shouldn’t let Kenny keep making decisions for you.” Veronica looked at him in confusion. He chuckled at her expression, “Sweets, you gotta see what he’s doing to you.” He laughed.

“You… you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“This…” he pointed at her, “Has Kenny Omega and the Young Bucks written all over it. You’re their little group project.” He confessed. She clenched her fist to the side, and clicked her tongue. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Veronica responded. Hangman squinting at her, then at the bag in her hand, “Let me see your ring gear.”

“I don’t want to show you. You will have to wait like everyone else.” She pinned the bag behind her back, out of his reach. “Fine. You got me… is that free ice cream?” He pointed down the hall, making her whole body turn quicker than she could get the chance to react. He swiftly snatched the bag out of her hand, “Alright, let’s see…” He placed the bag nicely on a nearby table and began to unzip it.

A smile formed, as he was in awe of the diamonds. He ran his hand down it, “Wow… Sandra really outdid herself with this one.” His hand stopped as his fingers got tangled, he looked over at her before pulling the jacket out. “TASSELS?”

“Would you be quiet!” She grabbed the jacket back from him, and put it nicely back in the bag. “Mind your business.”

“You have never worn tassels before. That’s new… kinda reminds me of a certain tag team, and those shorts are way… different from your usual baggy style.”

“Am I not allowed to try new things? My baggy pants, and hot tops are still there. I just wanted to spice it up for the pay per view tonight.” She smiled, “Plus… the tassels were a recommendation from Matt. It’s a one time thing.”

He scoffed at that, “He’s always recommending tassels to everyone… they couldn’t pay me enough to wear that shit.” She let out a small laugh before leaning in, “I think you could pull it off almost as good as them.” Veronica complimented with a smirk. “No, I’m okay… I’ll stick to my things, and you stick to… whatever that is.”

“I’m going to make you eat your words, Page.” She picked up her belongings, and made her way back to the locker room. He watched her go, and when she was gone he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Page let his head fall back on the wall behind him, and ran his fingers through his hair. Even after she put him through hell… she was back where she’s been since he met her. In his head. And with his match coming up in less than half an hour… he knew he was doomed.

*************

Nova waited for her cue to go out, which was a certain signal from Ricky and Brian Cage. Taz had come out, yelling at Cody and Darby on the mic. When Brian attacked Darby from behind, with Ricky following him after, she knew she was coming up soon. She watched as Brian threw Cody right into Ricky for a spear.

Right when they grabbed Darby, she ran out, pretending to get in between the two teams. The audience popped, Taz however, was screaming at the top of his lungs for her to move.

She went up to Ricky, pretending to lecture him.

“It looks like Nova and Ricky are having a bit of a disagreement here, Excalibur.” Tony Schiavone said, watching this all go down on the monitor.

Nova “gave up”, throwing her hands in the air and turning towards Brian, who was holding up Darby by the back of the neck. They stared each other down, when Nova delivered a clean roundhouse kick, straight to the left side of Darby’s face. The crowd was shocked, but no one showed it more than Taz.

Nova rolled out the ring, yelling at Brian to push Darby out. She dragged him over to the car, which he had made his entrance on, calling Ricky and Brian over.

Brian hoisted Darby up, before powerbombing him onto the windshield. Nova and Ricky smirked, making their way up to the stage. Taz looked in disbelief, before holding his hand out to Nova.

She hesitated to put hers out, before she finally shook his hand, “Welcome to Team Taz.” He said, yelling at the camera guy to come closer.

“New Team Taz member! Nova Jay! The Supernova!”

Nova smirked, when Ricky grabbed her by the waist, kissing her passionately. They smiled at the camera before making their way backstage, Nova was finally noticed, and she was going to make sure everyone’s eyes stayed on her.

*************

Sawyer cracked her knuckles. Everything and everyone around her becoming quiet. Her earphones blasting. Her heart pounding. This was it.

“Sawyer you’re on after this break!” Dustin Rhodes called from his monitor, “Go teach that bitch a lesson.” Sawyer handed her phone to Nova, who looked like she was about to vomit. “I’ll be fine.” Sawyer assured her friend, “This needs to be done.”

“Why did it have to come to this though. Sure, you and Veronica have fought a hundred times before. But this is …” She stopped as she looked over and saw Veronica coming in. New ring gear on display, as she got rid of the baggy pants and went to new revealing shorts and a gorgeous rhinestone jacket with a picture on the back she couldn’t recognize, along white long tassels… it was hard to miss her.

The wrestlers began to find any monitor they could, not wanting to miss a second of anything. Talking amongst themselves, placing bets. In awe of the reaction that the two had gotten in such a short amount of time. The crowd was awake, and ready for a fight.

“Knock ‘em dead baby! We’ll be here when you get back!” Chuck Taylor quickly yelled, making Sawyer turn just in time to catch him. She gave him a thumbs up, before she headed through the curtain.

Taylor glanced in Veronica’s direction feeling her stare already on him. He rolled his eyes at her before going to find a seat next to Trent and Orange.

“Popcorn?” Trent offered as Chuck sat down. Orange lazily stuck some kernels in his mouth.

“I’m not sure what trick she has up her sleeve, but I don’t like it.” Chuck gestures toward Veronica who was beginning to warm up. “Her presence is enough to mess with your mind. Don’t worry about it, Sawyer is gonna WHOOP DAT ASS!” Trent said loudly, on purpose earning a scoff from behind them. The three turned around and were met with Kenny Omega and The Young Bucks. “You sure are biting off more than you can chew, Baretta.” Matt snarled. Orange looked between the two, lowering his glasses.

Trent spoke up again, “Matt, no matter how hard you try. She isn’t going to sleep. with you. You need to realize that. It’s starting to seem desperate at this point-”

“Choose your next words carefully, momma’s boy.” Kenny got in his face. “I wouldn’t let her name leave your mouth again, if I were you.” Trent bit the inside of his mouth, looking back at his friends. “Forget it man, let’s just watch the match.” Chuck patted down the chairs, getting them to cool it. From the back of his head he could feel Matt began to burn holes through the trio making him smirk to himself. He had hit a nerve with Matt Jackson, and nobody knew that but him.

The beat dropped for Sawyer's entrance music, making the crowd more electric than they already were. She couldn’t help the smile break through as she stood on the ramp. The pyro went off, and she posed for the camera. She removed her jacket, revealing a dark gothic attire. The front row of wrestlers applauded, as she walked down to the ring, she got on the apron and began to take it all in, knowing this was the only bit of peace for a long time.

Veronica tilted her head in Nova’s direction as she passed. Not caring about Ricky clutching her to his side, or the glare they both gave her. She shrugged it off and went out as if this was an actual “storyline.”

She walked out earning a mix of boos and cheers. She closed her eyes and turned her back. Revealing her jacket, to be a picture of a throwback photo of her, Sawyer, and Nova… with a drawn on angel halo hovering over her, and devil horns drawn on Sawyer. She chuckled at her antics, and spreader her arms to let the tassels gracefully fall, “Let’s fucking go!” She yelled, before making her way to the inside of the ring.

Sawyer never took her eyes off Veronica, ever since her music hit. If looks could kill, they’d both be dead. The bell rang, and Sawyer extended her hands outward for a lock up, while Veronica extended a foot— that connected with Sawyer’s nose. She blindly rolled her up, but Sawyer kicked out before three making the crowd gasp. She quickly backed up in the corner, trying to avoid the ropes from blowing up around her.

“WHAT THE HELL V?” She yelled, getting in her face. “YOU REALLY WANNA START LIKE THIS?” She pushed Veronica, making her fall on her backside. She immediately got back up, getting right back in her face. “Hit me.” She repeated, while harshly shoving Sawyer. “I know you want to.”

Sawyer raised her fist, only to be slapped by Veronica before she could react. The crowd sat on the edge of their seats in anticipation, watching Sawyer blow the hair out her face, and stare down Veronica between her brows. She slightly gulped, not breaking her stare. Sawyer began delivering rapid kicks to her sides, then quickly delivering an arm drag sending Veronica just inches away from ropes.

Her eyes widened, as she realized how close she was. Turning around she attempted to run away, but was met with a dropkick that sent her flying into the ropes, immediately feeling the electric wire going off around her. She yelped, as she rolled to the outside, not wanting Sawyer to gain an upper hand. Her skin began to burn, and the wind that was knocked out of her was still trying to come back.

Sawyer’s first thoughts being to go check on her, before remembering the reason they were in this match in the first place. She shook her head, shaking all the sympathy away. As she climbed to the top turnbuckle, she stood along with the crowd. Phones flashing, their voices rising. Screaming, as she attempted a perfect moonsault to the outside. Suddenly, feeling a devastating crack to her ribs, causing the audience to fall in silence. Veronica held the kendo stick in her hand, leaning on the barricade. She watched Sawyer lay on the floor, refs coming to check on her. She pulled Bryce by his T-Shirt, wanting to continue the damage. She swung another good three times, before rolling her back in carefully. She went for the pin, once again.

1…

2…

“This fight will continue,” Tony yells in his headsweat. Sweat beading off his forehead. “We all knew that wasn’t gonna be enough to put down the Angel Slayer.” Jim added. “It’s almost as if…that name couldn’t be any more truer tonight. The white, the diamonds, the entrance…Veronica is the angel that Sawyer is slaying tonight. We’re in for one hell of a ride.”

The two had been going back and forth for about fifteen minutes. Each seeming to have a counter for each other’s move, and when they didn’t…they just started beating the absolute shit out of each other. Blood was pouring from the hairline of Sawyer, who had been curb stomped on a pile of chairs. While Veronica's left eye was beginning to swell up, as well as a huge slash from being sliced by a piece of the broken table.

Luckily, Sawyer had done her best to avoid the electric wire throughout the whole match so far. The two crawled their way back into the middle of the ring, Veronica kicked pieces of broken table out of her way. She gestured her finger at Sawyer telling her to bring it on. She charged, only to be hit with a drop toe hold. She held her mouth, and realized she fell forward on a steel chair. Immediately, tasting blood. Veronica smirked to the hardcam , rolling out the ring and pulling up the ring skirt. She tossed a couple of kendo sticks on the ramp way, for an emergency. She faked a confused face, before innocently pulling out a light tube. She rolled in the ring, swirling it around. Sawyer saw it, and let out a groan. She raised her middle fingers up, spitting blood at her. Veronica laughed, wiping it off and whispered, “You asked for this bitch” before cracking the tube on her head, glass shattering around them. Quickly covering for the pin.

1..

2..

Sawyer barely kicked out. Making Veronica throw a tantrum, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” She screamed at Bryce, who did his best not to back down. “LEARN TO DO YOUR JOB.” Veronica pointed her finger in his chest.

“Back off of me. Focus on your match, Rodriguez.”

“Don’t tell me- AH!”

Veronica was lifted from the ground, and placed on Sawyer’s shoulder, who when no one was looking had wrapped a piece of barbed wire around her kneepad. Veronica tried to scramble, hearing the crowd go crazy as Sawyer signaled for the Go to Sleep with her hands. She successfully hit it, cringing as she stuck to Veronica’s forehead. The crowd gasped, and held their hands over their mouths. She went for the pin.

1…

2…

Aubrey was milliseconds away from her hitting the mat, they could feel it.

“WHAT? VERONICA KICKED OUT. VERONICA KICKED OUT,” Excalibur rose from his seat. “BARBED WIRE IS STICKING TO HER FOREHEAD…WHAT THE HELL?” Jim asked with concern. “What are we witnessing here folks?”

“This is awesome!” The crowd chanted, if there was a roof on Daily’s Place, it would have been blown straight off.

Sawyer laid in the corner, not knowing what else to do as she stared at her former best friend with widened eyes. Veronica waved towards the entrance ramp, signaling for someone to come out. Sawyer turned her head with confusion, tears forming as she saw Kenny Omega and the Young Bucks dragging a helpless Chuck Taylor and Orange Cassidy. She stared in horror as she saw Orange and Chuck get hit repeatedly in the torso with kendo sticks. Their cries making Sawyer furious.

“You bitch.” Sawyer huffed, as she began to drag Veronica back by her feet. Veronica kicked, connecting with her busted lip, making her curse. Veronica quickly snapped up, ducking as Sawyer attempted to grab her. Going around her and connecting her arms for a snap dragon suplex. An idea popped in her head, as she looked at her boyfriend who nodded with darkened eyes. She backed up to the ropes, breathing in, and before she breathed out she delivered a devastating snapdragon sending Sawyer through a ton of pain, as her neck was met with electricity. She hid her face, as she repeatedly hit the mat, doing everything to not let her pain be shown.

Sawyer stumbled to stand, as Veronica began to spit more venom at her, “You thought what they did was bad?” She chuckled, as Matt threw a kendo stick in her direction. She picked it up, and placed it under Sawyer’s chin making her look at her. “Watch this-” She swung, only for it to be caught under Sawyer’s arm. She gritted her teeth, not letting her react to the sting. Veronica did her best to pull it back, but she wasn’t budging.

Veronica reached her arm back to attempt to slap Sawyer again, but she grabbed onto her, slowly looking up at Veronica with angry eyes. Sawyer delivered a headbutt to Veronica’s, “That’s for bringing your boyfriend into this!” Left hook, “That’s for hurting my friends!” She kicked her in the stomach so her back hit the turnbuckles, “THAT is for putting a title over our friendship!” Sawyer balanced the kendo stick in her hand, “And THIS is for all the pain and tears you’ve put me through since July!” She went feral, whacking Veronica left and right. Veronica bawled up on the floor, trying her best to avoid her. Only to get hit harder, not being able to move. She whacked Veronica in the back once more long enough to climb to the top rope. Sawyer stood and looked around the crowd of people and wrestlers, who cheered her on as she finally did what she always wanted to do. A swanton bomb, on live pay-per view. The crowd erupted as Sawyer went in for the pin, without her Canadian Destroyer.

1...

2…

The girls laid there, staring at the ceiling. Their breathing rapid, their faces red. Veronica felt the tears start to form, she scooted away to the other side of the ring, hand over mouth holding back sobs.

“Sawyer.” Chuck shook her, “You did it baby. It’s over.” He groaned, holding his side. Her head snapped towards him, and Cassidy who were both equally hurting. “Me? I won?” She looked with disbelief. Orange gave her a thumbs up, as she pulled them in for a hug. “I’m so sorry you guys got hurt.”

“Eh.” Cassidy lazily replied, “We lived.”

Veronica watched the three, not realizing her own group was next to her. “Let’s get out of here.” Nick bent down to help her up, she wrapped an arm around his shoulder looking for Kenny who couldn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he angrily stared at Sawyer, who had the biggest grin on her face as she stared back.

“Kenny-“ Veronica reached out, his demeanor broken, as he saw her covered in blood. “Jesus Christ…”He commented, pulling her away, flinching when he heard her wince. “Careful with her hip, it’s gushing.” Matt commented.

Veronica tried to respond, telling them that she was fine until she saw Hikaru Shida walk right past her, with her AEW Women's Championship straight to the ring for Sawyer.

Jealousy filled up, and she couldn’t help looking away as they stared down at each other. The sounds of her boyfriend’s concern were muffled, as all she could do was focus on them. Sawyer couldn’t help but glare past Shida sometimes. Veronica’s tears staining her brain. Eventually, Tony Khan came out applauding as the crowd gave a standing ovation.

It was over. It was finally over.

—-------

Sawyer tried her best to get rid of the smile on her face, but she just couldn’t. She was on Cloud 9. Of course, something felt off. She knew what it was, Veronica. But she knew, she couldn’t let this affect her celebration. She turned up the music playing from her speaker, hoping that even Rihanna could distract her from this feeling.

Just as she put on the finishing touches of her outfit, there was a knock on the locker room door. “Come in!” Wardlow walked in, bouquet of flowers in hand, “There’s the next women’s champ! God, you’re amazing.” Sawyer gasped, “Michael! You’re so sweet.” She took the flowers, giving him a kiss.

“So, you really gave Veronica hell out there. How about you and I go to dinner? You’re already dressed, and of course, I have another gift for you back at the hotel.” He smirked, grabbing Sawyer by the waist from behind, hands sliding up and down her body.

“That sounds lovely Michael, but some of my friends set up a party for me at my favorite bar downtown. You wanna come with?” She asked innocently, thinking nothing of it. Wardlow’s energy shifted, he suddenly just seemed furious.

“You’re kidding. You’d rather spend this win with vodka and screaming than wine and classical music?” He asked, acting like there was no discussion. “Uh, yeah. It is my celebration.” Sawyer grabbed her purse, heading for the door.

“And let me guess, Chuck set this celebration up.”

Sawyer stopped in her tracks, her mind was telling her a million things, but only one was the right thing to do. “Well, you caught me. Chuck did set this up. And Isiah. Along with Nova and Ricky. And how could I forget ‘your’ buddy, Max? My friends set this up, Michael. They knew this would make me happy and they were right, I’m going!”

“I knew you were still talking to that weirdo! I knew I couldn’t trust you. If you walk out that door, we’re finished.” He threatened. Sawyer only stared back, frowning, tears forming in her eyes.

“After everything I went through tonight,” Sawyer choked on her words, before cutting the act, “You think I’m scared of a white man breaking up with me? I’ve seen some stupid shit, but this has gotta be the stupidest shit ever. We’re done, the third shot is dedicated to you!”

Sawyer cackled, walking out of the locker room, knowing that Wardlow no longer affected her.

On the other side of Daily’s Place, the Elite got to the back. Veronica doing her best to not crumble in front of the roster. She felt a hand leave her lower back, causing her to stop them in their tracks. “Kenny, what are you doing?” Matt asked, not sure why he stopped walking.

“You guys go on without me… I have to catch up with Don.” He looked between them, giving a disappointed look toward Veronica, “Just let me know what the doctor says.”

Veronica’s face grew with confusion, “You’re not coming with me?” Matt held his grip on her wrist, as she tried to walk away from them. “You’re hurt.” He reminded her, “I’ll make sure she gets back.”

“Thanks man.” Kenny spoke, “I got to go fix this. I’m not letting her screw up ruin my future plans.”

Nick’s eyes widened, as a silence fell between the group. Veronica felt her blood begin to boil, as his words finally hit her. “I can’t believe you. I know I didn’t win, but I tried my best and-“

“Save it. I don’t want to hear any more excuses tonight.” He rolled his eyes, before pulling out his phone typing rapidly. Nick and Matt looked between each other, not sure what to do. Veronica pushed through, wincing at every step she took. “You know what? This loss isn’t on ME. It’s on YOU, and you know that. You told the whole world that I was this Elite superstar, and you never once considered my feelings.” Her voice trembled, “Sawyer and Nova want nothing to do with me, because of you, and now I’m finally understanding why.”

She shoved Nick and Matt’s hands off of her as she walked off in her own direction.

As Kenny watched Veronica walk away, he groaned, throwing his hands up in the air, “I swear to God, I don’t know what her deal is.” He marched off, mumbling to the Bucks about not following him. “She has to be kidding, none of this is my fault. I got her here at the top. In this company, I gave her everything. It’s all-” His own thoughts were interrupted, almost making him stop in his tracks.

“It’s all her.”

Sawyer and Nova stared back, trying their best to hide their grins. “Looks like someone will be sleeping on the couch tonight.” Nova joked. Kenny shook his head, embarrassment beginning to wash over him.

“You couldn’t even help your own girlfriend, when she needed it most.” Sawyer spoke up, “What makes you think YOU could defeat me?”

He opened his mouth to argue, being cut off by a car honking grabbing their attention, Nova rushed over to the side door leaving Sawyer.

“One day, Veronica will realize that you were nothing more than a weight holding her down. It really sucks that you were the reason we had to nearly kill each other tonight, but if you think that I won’t stop trying to get my friend back… you’ve got another thing coming.” She pulled her glasses down on her head, letting herself finally relax.

“Goodbye, and Goodnight Omega.”

◤━━━━━━━━━━━◥

Feels nice to be back, chapter 10 is coming soon.

#kenny omega x oc #kenny omega x reader #wardlow x oc #wardlow x reader #wardlow aew #wardlow #adam page x reader #adam page x ofc #ricky starks x oc #ricky starks x reader #aew fanfic #aew fanfiction #aew dynamite #aew #chuck taylor x oc #all elite wrestling #matt jackson #nick jackson

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elitehunter · 2 years

Text

Will Ospreay: Anything can happen on a snow day

Title: Anything can happen on a snow day Theme: Day 4 - Snowman for @12daysofchristmas Fandom/Character(s): NJPW/Will Ospreay x OFC Warnings: just some cursing, like a couple of f-bombs because it's Billy. Word Count: 1,191

On a snowy day, he finds himself face to face with her. Or, rather, the snowball she throws right at his face. He's been upset with her for so long for the way they drifted apart. But maybe he had it all wrong to begin with.

Read it on AO3

#12daysofchristmas2022 #will ospreay fanfic #will ospreay fanfiction #will ospreay imagine #will ospreay imagines #will ospreay x ofc #will ospreay x original female character #elitehunter fic #elitehunter fanfiction #series: 12 days of christmas (aew one shots)

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spine-buster · 9 months

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just friends, pt. 2

aka, another time it could have happened again

gif credit @/besthimbomachine

Length: 3704 words Summary: It's New Year's Eve. Tyson and Hazel's favourite holiday is New Year's Eve. A beautiful dress doesn't quite help any New Year's resolutions. A/N: This series is slowly taking over my mind. This is some more blue balls for you all before we finally get to a sequel.

31 December 2019

Hazel took time to get ready for AEW’s New Year’s Eve party; she took time shaving and exfoliating in the shower, lathering herself in lotion, curling her hair, applying her makeup, slipping into her dress. She took time looking at herself in the mirror, happy with how she looked. It took a while to get here, literally and figuratively, but judging by the colour of her dress and the slit that reached up her thigh, she was, firmly, here. Happy.

The party was to be held in TIAA Bank Arena for the entire roster, and while she knew she wasn’t running late, she knew Tyson would be.

Can you hurry your ass up?

Perfection takes time, hunny

You are the worst person alive

Hazel snorted to herself at Tyson’s text, if only because she could picture so perfectly him saying it in person, too – if he were ever on time. Regardless, she waited out in the hotel lobby, scrolling through her phone. She saw some personal stories posted from some other friends already at TIAA Bank Arena, seeing all the decorations, the bar set up, and the hors d’oeuvres already being served. She was starving. If Tyson made her miss the hors d’oeuvres, she was going to kill him.

Her instincts told her to look up, and when she did, she saw Tyson walking towards her wearing a nice button up shirt and a pair of pressed slacks that fit him perfectly. He looked good, but to Hazel, he always did, even though she couldn’t say it out loud. She thanked the Lord it looked like he scrubbed all the spray tan off too, and trimmed his beard so it wasn’t too scraggly. Sometimes she thought it looked so, and she made sure to tell him. ‘It looks better when it’s shorter, Ty,’ she’d tell him, and usually within twelve hours it would be at a length she loved. It was kind of like when he told her how he liked her long hair, how he didn’t want her to cut it again after she had chopped most of it off into a long bob a few years ago now. Hazel went for regular trims so her hair was healthy and grew it out to a length that cascaded down her back.

Okay, so maybe they did say it out loud from time to time.

“Did you order the Uber?” she asked when he was close, but he didn’t answer. She waited patiently for a response, but didn’t get one. Tyson didn’t respond because his eyes were travelling from her face down her body, the dress accentuating every beautiful curve and line. “Kenneth!”

He snapped out of it. “What?!”

“You’re going to make me miss the hors d’oeuvres,” she said.

“No I’m not,” he said. “The Uber’s two minutes away. Let’s go wait outside.”

He walked behind her, watching her ass in the dress. He had to think of the smell of his hockey team’s locker room from 20 years ago to prevent himself from getting a fucking erection in the lobby of a hotel. He wanted to punch himself for thinking what he was; for thinking about what he wanted to do to her in that dress. The things he could get away with. The things she’d let him get away with.

If it was the right time.

“You look great by the way,” he said nonchalantly, barely making eye contact with her as they stood outside waiting for the Uber to pull up to the door.

“Yeah, thanks,” Hazel was almost bashful, running her hands down the fabric that covered the front of her thighs. “You don’t—you don’t think it’s too m—”

“Nah, no way,” he cut her off, shaking his head vehemently. “Everything…you just, you look incredible, Haze.”

“Thanks, Ty. I mean it.”

He looked at her finally, a small smile on his face. “If any of the guys hit on you tonight, you’ll know why.”

Before Hazel could say that none of the guys would hit on her as long as he was around (except for Austin, probably, and even then it would be as a joke), and before she could blurt out something stupid like “I wish you’d be the one to hit on me,’, their Uber rolled up in front of them. She climbed into the back, trying to get her dress not to bunch up too much. Tyson hopped in after her, staying behind the passenger seat. “TIAA Bank Arena, please,” Tyson said to the driver before looking out the window to distract himself.

***

At the party, Tyson didn’t appreciate how he and Hazel were separated. She had been whisked away early on and he watched her order gin and tonic with lime from the bar. He hung out with some of the guys but the eye he kept on her in the dress was near constant. New Year’s was his favourite holiday and he wanted to spoil himself by staring at her – sue him. He wanted to spoil himself in more ways, but he knew he couldn’t. It was getting harder the more he saw her smile, the more he saw her laugh, the more he saw her cheeks flush red and her smile get wider as the night passed, taking pictures and laughing at jokes and singing along with the music.

For what it was worth, Hazel noticed. She noticed Tyson’s eyes on her almost the entire night, stuck on her as she giggled and smiled and sipped her drink. She could tease him all night if she really wanted to, and she knew it. But instead of doing that – instead of teasing him more than she already was – she decided to whisk herself away to the bathroom, if only to cool herself down and reapply her lipstick.

As she bent over the vanity to reapply her lipstick in the mirror, the door opened and in walked Tyson. He stared at her through the mirror, smiling as he shut the door behind him and leaned against it. “Hey,” his voice was soft.

“Hey you.”

“You okay?” Tyson asked quietly.

“Of course,” Hazel nodded. She picked up her glass filled with ice and a lime. “This is water.”

“It is?”

“I keep asking the bartender to fill it with just tonic water,” she revealed, smiling. “You know how I always like to remember New Year’s.”

Tyson couldn’t help but smile at her little scheme, pushing himself away from the door and taking the few steps towards her. “Yeah. Of course. Just like me.”

“We promised, didn’t we?” she maintained direct eye contact with him through the mirror.

“We did,” he said, remembering their conversation and promise in Tokyo all those years ago. His hand went to her waist, without warning. Then it snaked around, his hand resting on her lower belly. Hazel looked at him through the mirror. “Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” his voice was low.

A smile broke out on her face; one she could barely conceal. “Mhmm,” she nodded her head quickly. She placed her hand over his, intertwining their fingers slightly. “You’re getting real handsy, Ty.”

“Sorry,” he didn’t mean it.

“You don’t have to apologize. You just have to…be careful.”

“Of what?”

“Yourself,” she deadpanned, biting her bottom lip mischievously. “You’re your own worst enemy sometimes, you know that?”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Smirking at each other through the mirror, Tyson slowly pulled his hand away from her, but didn’t step away from her body. “Are you having fun?”

“The most fun,” Hazel closed her lipstick, turning around so she was finally facing him and not looking at him through a mirror. “You know how much I love all these rapscallions. Are you?”

“Now I am.”

***

When there was about five minutes to go, the waitresses and caterers began pouring the champagne into the flutes. Hazel watched as each one filled up one by one, everybody gathering together to watch the final minutes. As the champagne was passed around, Hazel accepted her flute graciously. Tyson, of course, politely declined.

“Can I have his?” she asked the waitress, who was more than willing to oblige.

With two champagne flutes in her hands, the final minutes were dwindling. Tyson stood beside her, watching on, a smile on his face. The excitement in the air was palpable. The countdown was always the best part. And when the last minute of the year hit, he watched as Hazel performed an excited jig.

Then, thirty seconds left. They both turned towards the TV again, counting down with the growing number of their friends shouting out the numbers. Tyson grew more and more emphatic with his screaming of the numbers the closer they got. Hazel screamed along, careful not to spill her champagne.

Five!...Four!...Three!...Two!...One!...Haaaaaappy New Year!

Hazel screamed along with everyone else, raising her hands with the champagne flutes up in the air for dramatic effect. Tyson was screaming along with everyone and clapping his hands. She could see Austin and Britt already sharing a New Year’s kiss, and a few others, too. She brought the first of the champagne flutes to her lips to drink, to suppress what she really wanted to do. Hopefully the moment would pass.

When she looked into Tyson’s eyes after downing the second flute, she saw everything she loved about him; everything she was so desperate to have but desperate to keep hidden, to keep locked away in some small compartment within her. “Happy New Year, Ty.”

His smile was soft, but light, and genuine. “Happy New Year, Haze.”

***

It was nearing two in the morning by the time Tyson and Hazel decided to call it a night. There were still plenty of people at the party, and they were still all giggly and smiley, but they wanted to go back to the hotel. Tyson ordered the taxi as Hazel said goodbye to everyone, kissing everyone’s cheek and hugging them tight. When they left the venue, Tyson walked behind her again, watching her hips and ass move in her dress.

The car pulled up in no time. Hazel crouched into the taxi first, shifting all the way over to the other side. She could immediately feel how cool the air was in the car, in such contrast to the humidity outside. As Tyson climbed in after her, her body shivered. “Hyatt Regency, please,” she said to the driver, watching as Tyson close the door behind him.

As the taxi driver signalled to rejoin the road, Tyson moved so he was in the middle seat, practically in her seat. Then, his hand went straight to her thigh, where the slit of her dress exposed as much leg as it could. Her eyebrows rose playfully. “What d’you think you’re doing?” she asked playfully.

“What?” he asked non-chalant, the smallest of smirks building on his face. “Not like my hand’s never been there before. Plus, you shivered. Body heat is paramount.”

Between training and matches, and between, well…he wasn’t technically wrong. But he still knew he was pushing it, and Hazel knew he was pushing it too. While she appreciated the physical touch – she always did with Tyson – she knew it wasn’t the right or the best thing to do. “Oh Tyson,” she chastised him, leaning back against the window. “You know what would be even better?” she asked as her hand went to lay on top of his on her thigh, their fingers slightly intertwining.

His hand attempted to go higher, closer to her core, but she stopped him. “What’s that?” he asked.

“If you gave me a foot massage.”

He pretend gagged and she laughed out, knowing that he hated anything to do with feet. “Now why the fuck would I do that?”

“Cause you love me,” she said. “And these heels are awful.”

“They look great.”

“Beautiful but awful.”

“Why don’t you just take them off?”

She rolled her eyes. Men. “The first rule of heels is you can’t take them off until it’s the end of the night. Your feet won’t fit back in them if you do, and it actually becomes more painful to walk in them again.”

Tyson shook his head. “Beauty is pain, I guess.”

“So I guess I’m not getting a foot massage, huh?” she smiled.

“No chance.”

They chatted and joked for the short ride back to the hotel, wishing the driver a Happy New Year and tipping generously with cash so he didn’t have to claim it. The second Tyson’s hand left her thigh and his body left her side, she felt the loss. She hated admitting so. She buried the feeling again as she stepped out of the car. But before Hazel could even shut the door, Tyson’s hands were on her again.

Except this time, he lifted her up dramatically into a fireman’s carry. She yelped loudly, acutely aware that despite her dress still being on and the fabric covering everything it needed to cover, her ass was in the air. “Tyson!”

“Oh will you stop,” he mimicked Gorilla Monsoon perfectly. “You said your feet hurt!” He began walking towards the door and through the foyer. Hazel could feel her body heat up from embarrassment as she saw the concierge look at them. What a sight to see at two in the morning. She was thankful that nobody else was lingering around. “Better than walking, huh?”

“Can you at least carry me like a normal person so my ass isn’t in the air?”

Carefully, so as to not tear at her dress, they transitioned like they were in the ring in-between wrestling moves, and eventually, Tyson was carrying her bridal style. She pressed the button for the elevator before looking into his eyes and cradling his face in her hand. “Hey Tys?”

“Hmm”?

“Thanks for carrying me.”

“I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

“I know that, but your back is bad.”

“Doesn’t matter. Your feet hurt.”

Her heart swelled. Tyson had always been so good to her, and her to him, but she revelled in this sweet moment as much as she could. It was only when Tyson’s face started to get closer did her heart begin fluttering instead of swelling. “Ty…” she whispered.

“You smell delectable,” he mumbled.

“That’s Jo Malone for you,” she tried to joke, even though she knew it wouldn’t hit. Tyson’s mind was somewhere else as she dug through her purse for their room key. She shoved it into the reader, the little light turning green before she opened the door for them. Tyson carried her into the room without even looking where he was going, the hair on his beard tickling the sensitive skin on her neck. She couldn’t help but smile and giggle. “Ty…”

“Let me put you on the bed,” his voice was husky all of a sudden. He placed her down on the bed but followed her down, his face still in the crook of her neck, his body looming over hers. “Christ, Hazel…”

Even though she was smiling, and even though almost every inch of her wanted this and could have had so, so much fun with it, she couldn’t. Trouble – that’s what this was. They could get into a lot of trouble this way. “That’s not the best idea, Ty,” Hazel whispered as she felt Tyson’s nose on her décolletage, on her clavicle, on her neck. She knew his lips were next.

“Why not?”

She giggled. “You already felt up my thigh in the taxi. You just want to because you’re hyped from the party. New Year’s has always been your favourite holiday.”

“Our favourite holiday.”

“Regardless,” she smiled to herself like a Cheshire cat, “you shouldn’t do much more, Ty. It wouldn’t be right.”

He knew she was right, fuck he knew she was right, but he gritted his teeth and bit his tongue. ‘Yes it would be right’ he thought. ‘Anything we do is right. Anything we’ve ever done has been right. It’s been right because it’s been with each other.’ He dislodged himself from her neck and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room. “It’s that dress, too,” he said to mask everything he was feeling, in a tone that covered any agony with humour.

Hazel’s smile didn’t leave her face. “It’s always the dress, huh?”

Tyson stayed silent, continuing to stare at the ceiling, trying to collect his thoughts. His arm was up above his head, the back of his hand resting on his forehead. “Sorry Hazel,” his voice was soft and low.

“You don’t have to apologize. I just don’t want you doing something you’ll regret later.”

‘But I won’t regret it’ he thought to himself. “Yeah, yeah,” he nodded slightly. “Thanks for always looking out for me, Haze.”

“You know I always will.”

Both of them took deep breaths, staring up at the ceiling as they lay in bed. Tyson couldn’t get the images out of his mind of Hazel at the party posing for photos, laughing, her legs glistening in the light. Her beautiful smile that took up half her face. The shine of her hair down her back. Fuck.

He felt Hazel shift beside him. When he looked over, she had lifted her knee to her chest, stretching to grab the buckle of her heels. The material of her dress rode up her thighs, exposing more of her skin. They came off one by one, with Hazel haphazardly throwing them to the side on the floor. He watched as she pushed herself up, sitting on the edge of the bed, her back now facing him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Hey Tys?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you unzip me?”

He shot up, but tried not to look too eager. He moved so he was directly behind her, watching as she gathered her hair over one shoulder. He grabbed the small zipper of her dress with his big hands. He took his sweet ass time pulling it down; Hazel knew he would. A part of her wanted to tease him so badly, only because she knew she had the power to at the moment.

When he was finished, he didn’t say anything. Instead, Hazel sensed it and she stood up from the bed, not bothering to look back at him. He watched her as she walked through the room, watched as she reached her suitcase and promptly dropped her dress to the floor, leaving her in only her underwear in front of him. He caught glimpses of the curves of her breasts as she threw her hair up in a ponytail and dug through her suitcase to find her pyjamas. His mind took him back to Tokyo and it was like a magic trick how he could remember the feeling of them in his hands when they made love.

Hazel went into the washroom and closed the door behind her, and Tyson knew it was so she could wash off her makeup. The memories of the night they’d just had flooded his mind, interspersed with memories of Tokyo. Her dress. The first time she wore one of his t-shirts after crashing at his apartment in Shinjuku. Her being backstage after the G1 Climax. Her laughing at his dumb joke at the bar. Her lips around the straw of her drink. Her hand over his when he grabbed at her thigh inside the taxi.

When Hazel got out of the washroom, clean-faced and with her hair in a bun, she noticed Tyson laying back down on the bed, still in his clothes from the party. When she moved closer, she realized that instead of using the time she was in the bathroom to change, he hadn’t. Now, he sleeping in his pants and shirt, an arm draped across his chest. He looked so peaceful in his slumber Hazel almost didn’t want to disturb him. But she knew what she had to do.

She crawled onto the bed slowly, making sure not to disturb him, and began to pull his belt out of the loop and unbuckle it. When she tugged slightly, he moved his arm, and it wasn’t until she unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them did he groggily open his eyes. “Hazel?” he asked.

“Let’s go to sleep.”

Considering what he had been thinking of before he fell asleep, he wasn’t sure if this was reality or a dream. The fact that her hands were near his crotch was enough to make him confused. “What’re you—”

“You can’t sleep in your party clothes, Tys. Lift your hips for me.”

He did as he was told, and felt Hazel pulling his pants down, all the way down, until he was left in his boxers. She moved to his shirt and started unbuttoning it for him. In his mental haze of still not knowing if this was a dream or reality, he bought his hand up and placed it over hers. She stopped and looked at him. “I’d do anything for you,” he whispered softly.

A smile spread across her face. “I’d do anything for you too. Let me take this off you now, okay?”

Her hands were soft as they glided across his chest and up to his broad shoulders to push his shirt back. It came off easily. Hazel noticed Tyson’s heavy eyes. “Get your head on a pillow, Tys. You’ll be more comfortable.”

He pushed himself back and settled himself; meanwhile, Hazel pulled back the covers, got underneath them, and pulled them over their bodies. She snuggled into his back, his body heat radiating onto her. She paused for a moment, her lack of judgement winning out against her better judgement as she placed three kisses along Tyson’s shoulder. She dragged her lips along his skin between them, making sure her lips lingered on his skin when she was done. “That okay?”

He groaned slightly in response, nodding his head. “That feels so nice,” he sighed out.

Hazel couldn’t help but appreciate the sentiment. “Let’s go to sleep, Tys. Tomorrow when we wake up there’ll be a whole new year of memories we can make together.”

Always together.

#kenny omega #kenny omega imagine #kenny omega fic #kenny omega fan fic #kenny omega blurb #aew #aew imagine #aew fic #aew fan fic #aew blurb #kenny omega x oc #kenny omega x ofc #kenny omega x original character #kenny omega x original female character

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majesticwren · 5 months

Text

here we go. I am not even ashamed. this thing was rattling in my brain and I needed to put it down and I LOVED writing this. perry coming back to aew ruined my life, I am a punk stan for life no matter what that man does but uhm I am also loving what they are doing with the elite end jack so ✨hi✨ hello, I am a reformed woman with a new boo, don't come for me :) enjoy 💕

Trigger Warning/s: smut, hate sex, revenge sex if you squint, unprotected sex (as per usual, don't take this as example, follow your sexed! peeps), they call each other names a lot, swearing, chocking, pleasure play, ofc slaps and scratches jack repeatedly, daddy kink? (not really as such but still included), buckets of angst

Masterlist

He pushed her rudely against the wall, flattening himself against her back. His arms were like tight branches caging her, making it impossible to move and to resist him. Not that she had any wish to do so. Not really.

Jack pushed a hand through her dark hair, grabbing a handful and pulling, making her bend for him only so he could push his face into her neck. The way he inhaled her scent like he was a bloodthirsty animal, made her shiver. JJ had to bite down on her tongue hard not to melt and whine. She wasn’t ready to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much she liked it.

He was a greedy motherfucker though, and was clearly taking it as a challenge. If she wanted to put up a fight, he was ready to take her on. His other hand travelled freely under her skirt, where he pushed his fingers unapologetically between her legs.

This time, JJ couldn’t hold back a hiss. She hated herself for the way her body easily reacted to him. She rolled her hips on him, arching her back under his hold, welcoming his touch with pure heat. JJ resented the pool of hot desire gathering in her lower abdomen, making it so obvious to them both how much the fight she was pretending to pull was already won.

She felt his damn smug grin growing on his lips, as he pressed it on her neck. “You want this, don’t you, little one?”

“Fuck you,” she spitted out, only prompting him to shut her up biting down on her collarbone, immediately suckling on her soft skin, already making her see stars. Again, she found herself thinking how pathetic she was when she had to suffocate the need to whine and beg to have more.

He wasn’t done though, just like he could read her like an open book, Jack followed the column of her neck with his tongue, collarbone to her ear, where he pressed his cocky smile. “No, baby. But I’ll gladly fuck you,”

Deep down, she knew he was only doing it to stick it up to her dad. And she wished she was strong enough not to care. She may have hidden it well, but she hated how her heart broke anytime she remembered how things were. In all the hypocrisy of her behaviour, she resented knowing he was only using her and being fine with it because being with him that way was better than getting nothing at all.

How she wished it could be enough to let her move on and forget about him.

They had something going on throughout the summer of last year. It was still a new thing and they hadn’t gone public with it, but whatever they had it was real. She had fallen for him. And then it was over just as quickly.

She fought like hell against the magnetism pulling her towards him. She tried to suppress every emotion connecting her to him for months now, and it worked as soon as she didn’t have to see him. When they were worlds apart, no matter about the drama, no matter about the gossiping, no matter about the tight position she was constantly being put into since her father was fired and she chose to stay in AEW, it was easy. As soon as she was safely tucked in America and he was in Japan, it was ok – she managed to ignore it. But everything fell apart as soon as their paths crossed again.

JJ only needed to see him once. It was a quick instance through the backstage. Just a glance from across the empty corridor and her entire world fell apart.

She wanted so desperately to hate him. She wished to cancel from her memory everything they had going on back through last summer. But she couldn’t. She was only a hypocrite.

And Jack knew exactly how to exploit it.

Jack let go of her hair and wrapped his hand around her throat, making her bend against him almost unnaturally, enough so he could look at her in the eye. His hold was surprisingly tender. Before she could even think to talk back, he started massaging her cunt, easily finding her clit through the thin material of her panties. His egomaniac grin was large and annoying, and so pretty it made it hard for her to stay sane.

He tutted, shaking his head slowly only for the satisfaction of being patronizing. “Look at you,” the way he was looking at her with his sharp, dark eyes made her want to smack him. “You are such a mess already,” JJ rolled her eyes in the back of her skull, pushing her hands on the wall, desperately clawing at it to find support. “Soaked,” he hissed slowly, letting the letters roll on his tongue. He proved his point by pushing a finger along her slit, gathering her slick on his digits like it was a prize he just won.

She tried with every inch of her strength not to moan, still shivering against and clawing her fingers on the wall, as if she was trying to dig her nails into the plaster.

She was enslaved by the pleasure he was giving her so effortlessly. And it wasn’t enough. Not even remotely. Her body desired so much more, aching for him, responding to him like she did for no other. She couldn’t even hide away from the memory of the connection they once had, it was printed all over her skin, all over her face, all over her heart. The edge between what was good and proper and what was bad and forbidden was easily forgotten now. She needed to have everything he had to give, to be used until he was tired and done with her. And then she was ready to beg for more.

“How disappointed would daddy be to know you are such a little slut for me, uh?” Jack whispered into her ear, fishing for a reaction that JJ didn’t miss to give.

“You are an asshole,” anger fired through her, “I hate you.”

As soon as she tried to oppose him and fight her way off his hold, she realised she had just fallen deeper into his trap. He was ready to catch her just like a spider watching a bug getting tangled in his web.

He took her attempt to push him off herself as an invitation to handle her. Jack turned her around so they could face each other but before he could do or say anything else, JJ reacted without thinking clearly, only responding to the situation with the adrenaline shooting through her. She slapped him like she meant it and enjoyed seeing him turn his head, taking the hit.

Jack stood still only a second, and then he was on her once more. He pushed her against the wall and, releasing an angry grunt, he grabbed her wrists and trapped them both with his hand, pushing her arms above her head.

“I will say this only once, little one,” he began looking down at her. JJ was crossed by a shiver, lost in the moment, distracted by the way his little eyes glimmered and how his lips trembled. He looked dark, handsome and desperate in a way that made her skin crawl. She didn’t respond to him with words but raised her chin, inviting him to continue. “I’ll give you the chance to say no and get away. But you’ll have only now. Tell me to fuck off now. Tell me you hate me now, and I’ll believe you,” for a moment she thought to see a more fragile side of him, hiding behind the sharpness of his gaze. “After, I won’t take seriously any of your attempts to fight me after this moment, understood?”

She knew exactly what he meant and what he wanted from her. He wanted her consent to do whatever he wanted and to make sure he wasn’t overlooking the fights she might put up. His words were supposed to sound somewhat threatening, and yet JJ found it so hot it made her abdomen tremble.

That was the point of no return.

She was getting lost in the eyes of a man who was singlehandedly able to ruin her career and her life. Crossing that line meant everything she stood for and all of her integrity was to be destroyed just to be with him one night, everything that would come tomorrow would have been a consequence she would have to face alone. And yet, doing otherwise was out of the question.

She loved her father. She had fought so hard to defend him from everyone and never once she thought to turn her back on him. He had given her everything and did his best to raise her properly. And she was proud to be his legacy. JJ Punk was a warrior just like he was and she was just as opinionated and inconvenient at times. But she was ready to turn her back on him to follow her silly little heart just because she couldn’t take yet another fight. Not that fight, anyway.

She acknowledged Jack’s wish and remained silent and docile, flattening herself against the wall, waiting, looking right back at him.

“Damn it, baby,” his tone was now a relieved whisper. He dived on her in a second, catching her lips in an impatient, famished kiss. JJ immediately melted against him and released a pleasureful sigh, welcoming his pressing tongue into her mouth with ease. She didn’t even try to fight him. He let go of her wrists only to wrap his hands solidly around her hips, squeezing her into his hold just to feel her. “You are mine now,” he huffed into her mouth. Tasting his breath on her tongue gave her a hot shiver that rippled on her skin and through her body, nesting right into her core.

As soon as her hands were free, JJ pushed them both into his hair, giving in to the craving to feel his soft, wild curls in between her fingers. Loosening his manbun was easy enough and she enjoyed watching his hair pop around him, making him look like a glorious lion. She then followed his jawline, caressing his thick, dark beard with her index, watching him raise his chin for her.

JJ smiled, imitating his smug grin. “I like this new look,” she then pushed up on his chin, making him bend his head and expose his neck only to toy with him. “It makes you look even more despicable.”

He hissed. “As soon as you like it, little one, I don’t care what you think of me.”

“No?” JJ pulled on his chin so he could look at her. “You don’t want to know? Not even a little curious? That’s not like you to mind your own business. My daddy must have taught you how to shut up.”

His nostrils flared. She knew how sore that wound still was, just as much as she knew he couldn’t stand her dad, and she was ready to exploit his spite, again, just to toy with him like a cat with a mouse. He wasn’t the only one able to exploit situations in the room.

“Don’t mistake my compliancy, little one,” he warned her, “I only care to fuck you until I have strength. I plan to make you come until you’ll beg me to stop. And then some more. Until I make you scream my name loud and clear, making you like it so much you’ll crawl back to me for more even despite your stupid daddy wishes.”

JJ’s lips twitched. “Son of a bitch,” his words still had the intended effect on her, making her knees weak “You are disgusting,” she started as her hands slid under his leather jacket, “so full of yourself it's embarrassing.” Her words didn’t match her actions as she pressed her palms on his chest, greedily feeling his muscles under her palms, “I hate you.” Jack nodded and helped her remove his jacket, pressing his lips on hers in a quick kiss. He wasn’t trying to shut her up. He was proving a point.

“You need a humbling lesson,” she continued as soon as he left her mouth only to follow her jawline. He only replied with a small hum and latched to her neck, sucking hard on her the sensitive skin under her ear.

JJ rolled her eyes and released a sigh. Instead of fighting him off, she hung on his shoulders, willingly accepting the hickey he seemed determined to mark her with. “The shit you pulled in Chicago was ridiculous,”

“You didn’t like it?” He wondered, pushing her skirt up around her hips. “And yet I put so much attention in the show I put up for you. Chicago certainly did.” He cupped his hands around her ass, squeezing her soft flesh into his palms.

“Bullshit,” JJ spit out, “that’s my city. My father’s city. You do not get to come back all so suddenly and shit all over that on a whim,”

“Hardly a whim, your sweet daddy almost ruined my career.”

“Because you can’t shut up, ever.”

“Thank god,” Jack pulled back to look down at her, a large grin printed on his lips making his dimple pop. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here about to fuck Pepsi Phil’s sweet, little daughter, would I?”

“Shut up.” JJ grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him into a kiss, deciding to suffocate their bickering because there was no winner in that argument. She was done talking. She was done thinking.

Jack pulled her off the wall and they both stumbled across the room removing various pieces of clothing from each other. JJ let her jeans mini-skirt pool at her feet and then accepted Jack’s impatient hands removing her top. She did the same with him, almost ripping his t-shirt off him only so she could dig her nails into his chest, willingly leaving marks.

He then pushed her down on the mattress, proudly standing by the edge of the bed, fiddling with his belt, looking down at her. He looked so pretty it was hard for her to remain sane. But, after all, what did she need sanity for when she had just betrayed every drop of her integrity?

She stretched underneath his gaze, letting him feast on her naked skin, basking in the hunger that consumed his dark eyes. “Fuck, baby, you are just as beautiful as I remembered.”

“I bet you spent all your time thinking about me,” she teased him pulling a presumptuous smile.

“You don’t know the end of it, little one,” he began. The way his gaze softened, looking at her like she was a precious thing he had lost and just found, both surprised and terrified her.

“Shut up,” she quickly barked back, not willing to accept his sweetness. That was an entirely different level of temptation she just couldn’t take on. Opening that door would have only dragged her down deeper into the waters she was already drowning into. “You should put that mouth to better use, scapegoat.”

Any trace of softness he may have had looking at her was gone in an instant. His features hardened and his gaze darkened as he looked at her like she was his prey.

He leaned on her and gently pulled her underwear off, hinting to her to raise her hips for him. She damned his soft, attentive touch. And more than that, she damned herself for finding it so exhilarating.

“Open those pretty legs for me, little one,” he hinted tapping on her knee, “let me see how much you want me.” She wished not to be so lost under his spell, but there was nothing she could do. JJ did as he asked, fighting against the slight awkward shyness of knowing to be completely naked underneath his attentive dark gaze.

“Such a desperate, lost, little girl,” he continued, standing above her.

The cold air that hit her hot, soaked core gave her a shiver, making her hiss. She felt exposed and harmless under his dreadful look and yet didn’t have the strength to fight against his wish. He wanted her so bad his greed was clear on his face.

Jack licked his lips looking at her without shame. “Such a pretty pussy,” he cooed slowly getting on his knees. “Now, let me taste it. You want it, don’t you?”

JJ knew what he wanted and didn’t give him the satisfaction. She broke eye contact and rolled her head to the other side, facing away. That only seemed to amuse him as a soft chuckle vibrated through his chest. “Don’t be rude with me, baby. I’ll make you regret it,” his words were a soft threat. He pulled her closer to the edge of the bed by her ankles and then, still dissatisfied, he didn’t let go of her. His hands hooked around her right leg, softly pulling it closer to his face, just so he could kiss her ankle, brushing his lips across her joint. “You know I will,” he continued, rubbing his nose on her calf following her leg up and pressing his lips just above her knee and then again on the inside of her thigh. His beard tickled her sensitive skin, making her twitch.

JJ grabbed the sheets, biting down on her lower lip and deciding to be stubborn.

“You should be nice to me and I’ll be nice right back at ya,” he followed her other leg with a hand, his touch barely there, just enough to make her crave it and not enough to let her feel it. “But if you continue this way, I’ll make you beg me until you cry,” as he kept nuzzling his face on the inside of her thigh, JJ was crossed by a shiver that shook her deeply, making her hips buck up even before she could think to control herself.

Jack pressed his grin into her sensitive skin, hovering so close to her centre and yet, not enough, tracing back along her leg, torturing her. “Look at you, baby,” he cooed, “I could have you begging in a second, right? You know it too, I can tell.”

JJ was crossed by another shiver, fighting against everything not to look at him. It was a game of principles now. A challenge. She knew he was getting more and more impatient with every second she made him wait for it, and she may have had to pay for it later, but she liked the idea of annoying him. She wanted to slip under his skin just as much as he did with her.

“Don’t be this way,” he still cooed, this time, as his lips crossed the inside of her thigh, he bit down on her soft skin first branding her with a bitemark and then he latched to it, sucking hard on her only to leave another red mark on her skin. JJ couldn’t contain a whimper, as her hands automatically travelled to his hair. When she bucked her hips up again, desperately trying to find release, Jack guided her to throw her legs around his wide shoulders and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I do not need your words to know you need me so much,” he huffed raising his head to look at her. “It’s so clear, you aren’t hiding anything from me, little one.”

“Then why do you need me to say it?” She wondered between gritted teeth, finally looking down at him.

Jack’s grin was infuriating. “Because I wanna hear it,”

“Fuck,” JJ let her head fall backwards, only feeling his hot breath crossing her most sensitive skin was making her lose her mind.

“Just say it, baby,” he lulled as his palms opened on her abdomen, caressing her belly. “Say it for me, no one else needs to know, just me.”

His voice was tempting and inebriating. Feeling his touch and his breath on her skin was enough to condemn her. JJ hated herself, she wished to have more integrity than that. Maybe some more control. She was convinced her pride would have lasted longer, instead of crumbling right in front of her to his first demand. She was so pathetic she thought she deserved it.

She bucked her hips up, hissing avidly and then she gave up, nodding. “Fine. I do. I want it. You. I want you,” she couldn’t even think straight anymore. She looked away, trying to hide how confessing that made her blush. “And now shut up,”

“Oh, I’ll shut up,” a low, satisfied chuckle grew from his chest and rolled over her, giving her a shiver as she felt him positioning himself. “Look at me, JJ,” she obeyed even before she realised what his words meant. Jack whipped out a sharp grin, looking up at her from in between her legs. God, he looked so pretty and wild. No one needed to know how weak she was for him. His dark eyes glimmered like the ones of a feral animal. “Don’t take those pretty eyes off me, I want you to watch the way I’m gonna eat you out, a’right?”

She had no strength to nod but kept her eyes on him and watched the way he fixed her legs around his shoulders. Jack’s smile didn’t disappear. “Use your words, little one, tell me you understand that if you look away, I will stop.”

“Yes, I understand,” she huffed impatiently, feeling her body stretch and tense under an invisible force pressing on her. “Jack, please,”

He gave her exactly what she asked for. Exactly what she needed the second he heard her whisper his name. He leaned in on her and pressed his cocky grin on her cunt. As soon as she felt his mouth on her, JJ’s mind dissolved completely. She melted away in a stream of pleasure that spread across her like warm honey.

Everything else disappeared. All the time, all the things that had happened, nothing mattered but being close to him right now. And JJ found it freeing, like a boulder had rolled off her chest.

Like he was starved, Jack sucked and licked avidly on her tender, hot flesh, cleaning up her slick and demanding more. His hands were solidly wrapped around her hip and thigh, but not to cage her. If anything, he was guiding her to buck her hip and fuck his face. His dark eyes never let go of hers as he eagerly watched the pleasure shaping her face, welcoming her soft moans like music.

Quickly, pleasure started to gather in her stomach, heavily pressing down on her making it hard to breathe. As her body stretched like a rubber band, JJ found it impossible to control herself and forgot about her stipulation with Jack, letting her head fall backwards.

He immediately lifted his face up, not willing to show mercy. “What is it, little one?”

A shiver crossed her as cold air hit her, making her hiss like a snake. The sudden interruption made her go feral as she looked down at him, exposing her teeth like a rabid dog. It didn’t last long though, she quickly melted into submission as soon as she noticed the way he was studying her. He ate her up with his gaze. His cheeks were blushed and his beard covered in her slick, making her chest rumble with pride. “Please, don’t stop,” she begged softly.

He shook his head, pressing a kiss into her inner thigh, squeezing her soft flesh with his fingers. “Then look at me,” his beard tickled her, giving her a shiver that made her head roll back once more.

“I am sorry,” she explained trying to find some lucidity, “It’s only your fault.”

Jack chuckled, genuinely amused. “You are close, aren’t you?”

“Fuck yes, I am,” she caught her breath, “please, I won’t look away. I promise.”

Since her words were followed by her locking eyes with him, again Jack was ready to reward her. “Good,” he lowered himself on her, “I wanna watch you come on my face,” he mumbled latching on her clit, sucking her flesh into his hot mouth. No mercy showed. His hot breath and tickling beard first and then his mouth left her breathless.

This time, JJ fought against the need to let herself go completely and looked at him, not letting his gaze go. If he wanted to watch her, she would have given him a show. She pushed her hands into his hair, tugging at his curls as pleasure quickly mounted inside of her, wilder than before.

There was something eternally damning her soul about the way she loved to see the pale skin of her thighs contrasting with the golden tone of his shoulders. The satisfaction of having his face pressed between her legs was intoxicating, just like the idea of how beautiful he was, with his big loose hair falling softly on her skin. It wasn’t only that, it was also in the way he held her and how his fingers dug into her flesh, making her wish he left marks. It was in those dark eyes she wished to drown into.

She wished she wasn’t that weak – but she was discovering to be an entirely different person from what she always believed. And she wasn’t proud of it. But she couldn’t stop.

Following the rhythm of her hips and the quickness of her breath, Jack read her body language confidently and traced two fingers to her slit, pushing in only one at first and then both. JJ welcomed his digit with a whimper, biting down on her lower lip.

“Fuck, you are so tight, baby,” he grunted proudly against her sensitive flesh, not losing any more time and fucking her with his fingers and mouth following an incessant rhythm until she came undone against his face.

JJ cried her pleasure out loud, digging her fingers into his hair and pulling at it, only encouraging Jack to continue, guiding her through her highest and right into overstimulation, ignoring the way her body was shaking and trembling. This time, when she tried to escape him, Jack pushed down on her hips, immobilizing her under his torture.

“Shit,” she huffed pulling his hair, “Jack,” whimpering his name only got him to grunt into her cunt pumping his fingers in and out of her relentlessly. “Stop,” her voice was shaken and weak, just like her attempt to get him off. And the longer it took, the more pleasure started to grow inside of her again, and the harder it was for her to remain sane. This time it felt more erratic and violent. She had the irrational fear she wouldn’t survive this new wave hitting her. JJ had to press her feet into his shoulders to get him off her and, even then, he didn’t seem at all willing to follow her wish. His gaze was completely lost in his selfish desire.

Jack rudely wiped her slick off his face as best he could and then climbed across her, still fucking her with his fingers. His thumb took the place of his mouth as he massaged circles on her clit.

“Give me another, little one, I know you have it in you.” He pushed her under him on the mattress avidly watching the way she bent and stretched for him, all consumed by the pleasure he was giving her.

JJ had nowhere to run and there was nothing she could do and, even though she wasn’t going to be grateful, part of her was loving it. She had the tools to make him stop. She knew she only needed to look away, and yet she couldn’t. Not anymore.

She came again and this time it was her the one riding her own pleasure on his fingers.

“Yes, baby,” he cooed, “such a good girl. So hot for me, uh?” He kept praising her in words that got easily lost in between the waves of pleasure he just gave her.

She dug her nails into his shoulders scratching him some more as she pulled him down on her, suffocating her louder moans into a famished kiss. Tasting her own flavour in his mouth made her tremble, making her wish to mark him more, in every way possible. He was hers.

This time Jack helped her ride her highs allowing her to come off it, slowly easing her. However, as soon as he was done, his hand traced her leg, guiding her to hook it around his waist as he pressed his hips impatiently against her, ignoring how uncomfortable the rough material of his jeans could feel for her. A small whimper left his chest as he rubbed himself against her.

JJ’s mood changed quickly. She surely wasn’t done with him but he didn’t need to know the extent of how desperately she needed him. Not just yet. His ego was already massive and she had just fed him enough to let him think he had won her over.

Pushing him off her, she dug her nails into his chest, scratching him with the intent of leaving a mark. Jack grunted and, as he tried to catch her hands to stop her, JJ slapped him once more only to feed on his annoyance. She laughed in his face as Jack grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, pushing her underneath him.

“This little kitty needs her nails trimmed, uh?” His grin was quick to pop back on his lips. He used it like a weapon, knowing it was annoying her.

“Fuck you,” she hissed, only playing to fight his hold. The rest of her body spoke louder as she bent her legs around Jack’s sides and stretched underneath him.

“What are you trying to prove?” He looked into her eyes, “That you don’t like me?” His hold on her wrists came loose as he pressed his open hand across hers, “that you despise me?” He crossed his fingers with hers and JJ found herself holding onto him like a lifeline. She held her breath, hanging from his lips. “That you hate the way I make you feel?”

“Yes. All of the above,” she hissed at him, raising her head closer to his.

Jack’s lips hovered across her mouth. “Sorry,” he began, brushing his lips against hers, making her taste their kiss, “If I could be someone else, I’d give that to you. But you gotta settle for what I’ve got instead.”

There was an underline of disappointment in his words. Something sounded off as if he was genuinely hurt by her. And it tore her heart into pieces.

Their game was supposed to be that they hated each other and were about to have some good angry sex and forget about it right after. When did he decide to change the game?

She could deal with the shame of having sex with him. It was easier to accept. Everyone had needs, after all, right? But JJ couldn’t deal with the idea of still having strong feelings for him. How could she look at herself in the mirror knowing that deep down the only thing she wanted to do was to cancel out everything she had said just to pull him to her chest and cradle him softly, whispering to his ear that everything was ok.

Fucking pathetic. Especially since she was convinced it was still a stupid game to him. He was proving a point to her and to her father.

“Just don’t make me look at your face again,” she hissed letting her head fall backwards, distancing herself from his lips. “I can’t stand you.”

She hoped her words would hurt him. Part of her wanted to hurt him just to reflect the way she was hurting. Pretending to be a cold, selfish bitch was easier than having to deal with being aware of how deeply she was betraying her own pride and her father.

Jack nodded, granting her wish. The calm sadness in his eyes came and went in a second. One moment he accepted defeat and the second he was back being feral. His eyes burned with a new desire for conquering. “Don’t worry, little one,” He pulled her and turned her over on her belly like she was a lifeless doll, pressing her down on the mattress, not caring for her comfort. “You won’t have to look at me for long,”

Jack wrapped his hands around her waist and, again, squeezed her in between his palms only to feel her body. He then prompted her hips up for him, pushing a hand across her lower back, making her bend for him. “Good girl,” he still praised softly as she moulded underneath his touch. “Let me see that ass.” His words were followed by a slap. And then another. He hit her harder the second time, enjoying seeing her flinch. Her soft gasp encouraged him to then massage her tender flesh, squeezing her ass into his palm. “You still like it, don’t you?”

JJ was already grasping at the bedsheets, keeping her chest pressed down on the mattress just like he wanted her. “Yes,” she sighed softly, bending her back even more for him as her lower abdomen grew heavier with expectation. The cool air hitting her most sensitive, exposed skin was torturous, bringing her to bite her lower lip not to pathetically whine.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed softly. He leaned in above her kissing her back. JJ shivered feeling his lips tracing her spine. She may not wanted it, she may not liked it, but it felt so intimate and so right she was ready to give everything up for him.

She already did.

She heard the jingling noise of his belt coming undone and shivered when she realised what was coming as he took off the last clothes that were left.

Jack grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her up just so he could press his face by her ear. “I’m gonna fuck you now, is that ok?”

“As soon as you do it hard,” she teased popping her ass back, pressing herself against him. A satisfied smile crossed her lips as she felt his heavy shaft pressing against her hip.

He hissed against her shoulder and then pulled back so suddenly she found herself missing the feeling of his hot skin on hers. He gently pressed a hand in between her shoulders and guided her to press her chest back on the mattress. Once he had her positioned like he wanted, he guided himself to her core, holding his hip solidly with his other hand.

They both moaned as he rubbed his cock against her wet folds, letting her have a taste of how hard he was for her. “You are so fucking wet, baby,” he huffed and kept going, coating himself in her juices, teasing her.

“Just for you,” she admitted, hating herself for it a second later.

Jack rewarded her by positioning himself and slowly pushed the tip in, going at torturing her some more. The whimper he released slipped across her, giving her a shiver. It was a pretty sound she had no intention of forgetting. He then proceeded to go all the way, moving still excruciatingly slow, but filling her up and stretching her so deliciously JJ couldn’t contain a victorious smile.

“Yes,” she praised, receiving a pleasureful huff in return.

Jack squeezed her in between his hands and took longer than a moment to enjoy feeling her underneath him. She felt his dark eyes cruise her body, studying every inch of her tattooed skin.

“Baby, please,” she whined, not entirely sane anymore. She didn’t even care about fighting him anymore. Her pride was forgotten. Now, she only wanted him, nothing else mattered.

“Fuck,” Jack huffed and then grabbed her hair, pulling it to make her lean up so he could press his face in her neck once more. “Call me baby again,”

JJ melted into a smile and bent under him, giving him free access to her neck. “You like that, don’t you?”

At first, Jack replied bucking his hips against her in a quick thrust that hit her suddenly and deeply, leaving her breathless. Then, his hand slid around her throat, squeezing her softly. “Call me baby one more time, little one, and I won’t leave your side ever again,” his lips were so close to her ear that it made it hard for her to remain focused.

It was supposed to be a threat. Part of their game maybe. But JJ didn’t find it scary. She didn’t perceive it as yet another confrontation. It was a dangerous declaration that left the ball in her court. And she had already decided she was going for eternal damnation.

“Baby,” She purred, stretching against him. It was the sex. She wasn’t thinking clearly.

A soft grunt shook his chest as he finally gave in and started moving his hips, starting to fuck her just like she demanded. He slipped in and out of her with ease, quickly finding his rhythm, and JJ was ready to take him on. The way he moved inside of her, hitting the right spot every time, made her thoughts fog up. She was pure emotion now, burning only for him.

Jack’s hand stretched around her jaw, pushing her head to turn, making her bend underneath him, enough so he could have access to her lips and steal a kiss. She was ready to match his hunger, devouring his lips. JJ suffocated her moans into his mouth, only prompting him to squeeze her more solidly underneath him as the rhythm of his thrusts quickened.

“Call me daddy,”

“You are disgusting,” she huffed, deciding to try and resist him, only for the pleasure of contradicting him. Only to fight him some more, just enough not to give him the satisfaction right away. She craved his reaction. She craved the fight.

He chuckled into her ear. In response, he grabbed her throat in his palm, “C’mon, little one, do it for me,” the way he was begging her made him both so pathetic and so hot JJ couldn’t take it.

“And let your ego grow some more?” A sharp smile grew on her lips, “No, sir.”

Jack’s hold on her throat became harder. He squeezed the breath out of her, pushing his face into her neck. His thrusts were incessant, taking her breaths and linear thoughts away. “JJ,” he sounded like he was begging at first, “I’ll make you regret it if you don’t,” she felt his grin pressed on her jaw, “you know I will.”

“Fuck you,” she wheezed, keeping her fight up.

Jack wasn’t done either. His hand moved from her throat to grabbing a handful of her hair as he pushed her down on the mattress rudely. His other hand was firmly grabbing her hip, guiding her to bounce off him following his frenzied rhythm as he proceeded to fuck her even harder. From that angle, JJ felt his cock so deep inside of her that she felt its hits shake her stomach. She pressed her face into the mattress, suffocating the loud moans he ripped out of her.

It was supposed to be torturous; he was using pleasure to make her pay, but it wasn’t making her want to give in even an inch.

“C’mon, baby,” he was back begging. His hand moved from around her hip all the way across her abdomen and in between her legs where he started to massage her clit skilfully. “Give it to me once. I want to hear the pleasure I’m giving you bend your voice.”

JJ hissed. She couldn’t think clearly, pleasure had completely taken over her. Part of her registered his words and knew exactly what kind of twisted, dirty bastard he was being, but she would have lied if she said she cared enough to actually find offence in it or consider it crossing the line.

She pushed herself up, finding him ready to catch her and help her move. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to his chest, finding his rightful place into her neck socket, as JJ pushed an arm back, grabbing on his hair, he suckled on her skin, only enhancing her pleasure. His small whimpers didn’t help.

“You are sick,” she spit out. It was supposed to be an offence but the way her voice bent under a moan gave it a different vibe.

Jack nodded against her. “Yes, baby. Just for you. You drive me insane.”

“Not me,” she huffed, “you are fighting a war against my father,”

“Yes. I am. But he isn’t here. It’s you and me now.”

“Fuck,” JJ rolled her eyes, letting a wave of pleasure take over her body, wiping away her thoughts entirely. She didn’t know the extent of the consequences of what he just said. He had such a way with words, knowing what to say to make her do what he wanted. She couldn’t trust him. And yet she was ready to sing for him. She didn’t want to think about how much her heart was sealing around the feeling she had tried so desperately to forget.

“C’mon, babygirl,” he lulled softly, his soft voice brushed on her ear, making her go insane.

Pleasure-bent words started forming and common sense escaped her mind. JJ clenched her jaw, trying to fight the desire to give him anything he wanted, but she was too high and too lost in her pleasure to keep it up for longer than a moment.

She let go of the act as soon as another powerful wave of pleasure shook her body and senses.

“D-daddy,” she whined, scared to say at first. Then, immediately finding the way he approved of it with a deep moan so rewarding. “Fuck me, daddy,”

Jack pressed a gloating smile into her shoulder and gave her exactly what she craved.

Her pleasure was growing fast, mounting inside of her with such violence JJ had absolutely no control over herself.

“Hold on,” she huffed unsure how she managed to put words together. “J-Jack?” she wrapped a hand on his wrist, both trying to find something to hang on and to get his attention.

He was ready to catch her. “Tell me, little one,”

“I need-” her words were broken by a whimper as he didn’t miss a hit on her already shaking body. “Oh, fuck,” she hissed, digging her nails into his skin, “I need to look at you.” She continued, gathering all her strength to produce sensed words. “Let me look at you, baby,”

Jack seemed surprised by her words just as much as she was. She was aware she had just contradicted what she had ordered him earlier, but they both seemed not to care about any of it anymore.

He obliged her wish and helped her turn around and climb on his figure. JJ straddled him and, hanging on his shoulders, she slid back on his cock, welcoming him with a sigh. A content smile appeared on her lips as she looked straight into his dark eyes. There was nowhere to hide anymore.

She kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and then again, his lips, as Jack closed his strong arms around her figure, guiding her to ride him to the rhythm he had decided, fucking her quick and hard, burying himself deep inside of her every time, just like she had asked.

With every hit, she was pushed closer and closer to her edge, to the point she found herself hovering over insanity, completely lost in the pleasure he was giving her, making her feel like she was drunk.

JJ pushed her hands into his hair, bringing him to bend his head just so she could have the impression of towering over him, diving into his eyes full of lust. “Don’t hold back,” she warned with an encouraging nod.

He didn’t. He gave her exactly what she asked for, exactly what she needed. As soon as he felt her stretch against him, gasping for air, Jack pulled one of his smug grins looking proudly as pleasure morphed her face. “Come for me, little one,” he cooed softly, ready to hold her tight the second she was hit by her orgasm.

She called for his name as pleasure washed over her, leaving her breathless and senseless. But Jack had no mercy for her and didn’t allow her to have a moment to breathe. She fucked her right over her edge and kept going, selfishly chasing his own peak.

When he started to reach his own edge, his fingers dug into her skin, making her bounce on him relentlessly, Jack nuzzled his face into her neck socket, suffocating his softer pleasureful whimpers against her throat. His voice vibrated through her, making her lose her mind.

JJ was nothing but welcoming. This time she was the one holding him and when his strength started to weaken, she took over riding him and pushing him over his edge, avidly taking everything he had to give, milking every drop of his pleasure.

When the waves of their pleasure calmed down and the fog dissipated, they still held on to each other, catching their breaths. Jack softly brushed his lips on her neck praising her as his hands cruised on her back all the while JJ pressed soft kisses on his forehead.

Jack laid her down on the mattress, tenderly assuring she had a pillow under her head and then rolled on her side. They were both still shaken and clearly not done with each other, but she was grateful to take a break.

“Good?” He wondered looking back up at her. For once, his egotistical self was gone, leaving space for a sweeter version looking to be reassured.

JJ smiled, nodding, still catching her breath. “So good,” her mind still felt hazed, to the point she purred and melted into a smile under his eyes, without thinking about the consequences. “I need a tall glass of water, though.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he pulled a sweet, sharp smile and winked flirtatiously, making her mind go completely blank and her heart pitter-patter in her chest. Damn him. “I just need to ask you something first,” he wondered as he toyed with her hand, looking at the way their fingers crossed. She suspected it was a way not to face her.

“Shoot,”

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“That you hate me.”

JJ huffed, feeling suddenly so uncomfortable she couldn’t sit still. Her eyes shot to the ceiling as she retracted her hand from his hold, feeling fear slither under her skin.

There was no harder question to be asked.

She did. And she didn’t.

She resented him because she considered him the reason why her heart was broken. And she resented herself because, despite everything, she couldn’t stick to her own anger. She was angry all the time; at herself, at her father, at the world, and at fate or God, even. But now she didn’t feel powered by that same fire that allowed her to continue going, now she felt pathetic.

“Why are you so committed to humiliating me?” She wondered with a tired sigh. She knew she was about to lose that war. “Have I not given you enough already? Can you not just accept me being here with you as assurance enough to feed your ego?”

“Is that what you think this is?” He sounded heartbroken. Jack cupped her face softly, making her look at him even when she didn’t feel like she had the strength to face him. “You think I’d be that cruel, little one?”

“Yes,” JJ looked into his eyes and got lost in the man she met, surprised to find him willing to show his more vulnerable side. This wasn’t the Jack she had learned to despise over the last few months. This wasn’t the smug motherfucker willing to burn the world down to get his revenge. This was the man she left months ago, as they broke off things without a word. One moment they were together, enjoying the idea of everything that could have been, and the next they were strangers.

God, his eyes. JJ was burning underneath his dark gaze. Jack had such sweet eyes, hiding perfectly all the emotions that laid underneath. They were the most beautiful, most dangerous eyes one could have.

“I think you want to win me like a prize,” She continued, knowing her words would hurt him. This time, she didn’t like it. “I think you wouldn’t mind me if I wasn’t JJ Punk. Can you blame me?”

“You are dead wrong if that’s what you think,” he caressed her cheeks, “I hate your father’s guts and yes, this,” he pointed between them, underlining their connection, “it is done in spite of him. But baby, hell if I’ll let him take the merit of the ways I’ve missed you.” Jack still hung on her before she could look away, trying to find something to say. “These past few months have been the hardest of my life,” he continued, hooked into her gaze, “I had to rethink everything about myself. And I had to do it alone. I thought I was done. I thought this dream of mine was finished. I have lost people left and right. For a time, I thought I was left completely alone. Everything changed for me. I sometimes can hardly recognise myself in the mirror. But I am who I need to be, now. I am who I was made to be,”

“I,” JJ took a small pause to breathe, finding it hard under his gaze and the weight of his words washing over her, “I understand that,”

“I am not finished,” he corrected her, “In all of this, I had only one constant to grasp. Only one thing didn’t change, and that was you. The way I felt about you. And I grasped to it. It kept me sane. It kept me close to who I used to be, even if I can’t be that man anymore.”

“Jack,” JJ gasped, suddenly terrified by his words, feeling a knot sealing her stomach. She tapped her fingers on his lips, trying weakly to shut him up, but he didn’t let her.

“I need you, JJ. I need you here, I need you always.”

“We can’t,” she gasped, her chest was shaking violently. His words and what they made her feel meant so much more than giving up her dignity to have sex. It was different. It was much more serious. Much more complicated. Prohibited. “Jack,” she grabbed his chin, trying to find something to hold onto before she could spiral into absolute panic. “I can’t betray my father.”

“I am not asking you to.”

“Being with you is already a pretty big ask,”

“But never once I dared to ask you to change your opinion about me or your father, did I?” He looked into her eyes, “I’d never do that. I just need you. We can keep it a secret forever, I don’t care.”

She wanted to believe his words. She wanted to get lost in him and forget about everything else. Her heart was still aching for him and now, more than ever, she felt it skip out of her chest and dive into his to find anything to latch on and keep the illusion of what they were sharing alive.

But she couldn’t let herself get lost in that feeling. He was going to stab her in the back, she could feel it.

Yet, instead of putting her fears into thoughts and sensed words, JJ silenced them both, pulling him into a kiss. She had sold her soul that night, she just knew it. Nothing would have made sense ever again, she was the first betrayer. And she was ok with that. Sex had consumed every drop of her anger, leaving her exposed and defeated, hostage of all the feelings she never took the time to heal.

“I don’t hate you,” she then confessed against his lips, kissing him softly. She hated herself for it. As soon as those words came out of her, she regretted it just because she knew that even though she liked to pretend it wasn’t the case, she had just condemned them both. “I can’t love you either,”

“I know,” Jack nuzzled his face into her neck, hiding from the world. “I would never ask that of you.”

Jack rolled on top of her, his hands already finding their way across her skin, their bodies moving attracted to each other by a silent magnetism.

JJ mirrored his movements and welcomed him, ready to bury all those feelings somewhere deep, hoping not to find them ever again. But she wasn’t quite ready to let go of him. She wondered if she would ever be. And she had her answer even before she could form the thought, as her arms branched tight around his shoulders.

Sex was the perfect compromise for them both to let them find each other and pretend to believe whatever made them feel better.

JJ pushed herself up and kissed him. It was a sad kiss. A desperate one. “I can’t trust you,” she whispered on his lips.

“That’s ok,” He kissed her back, this time deeper, stronger, making her feel it. “You shouldn’t.”

#jack perry #jungle boy jack perry #jack perry smut #jack perry fanfic #jack perry x ofc #aew fanfiction

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allelitesmut · 1 year

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Palate Cleanser - A Prequel - Chapter 3

With Jonah's party raging at her house, Riley finds herself in a battle to maintain her self control.

Pairing: MJF x Actress!Childhood Friend!OFC

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Smut (minors dni), Cheating!!, Like lots of cheating, Jealousy, Rough Sex, Fingering, Public Sex Acts, Oral (m receiving), Face fucking, Spanking, Choking, Daddy Kink, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Degradation, Hair Pulling, Biting and Scratching, Spitting, Slapping

Find the original story here

Find earlier chapters of the prequel here: Chap 1, Chap 2

Smoothing out the front of her dress, Riley surveyed the party. It was in full swing now, her house bustling with people she didn't recognize. Jonah had disappeared a while ago, schmoozing with every man in a nice suit he could find. She snagged a glass of wine off the tray of a roaming waiter with an apologetic smile. Taking a slow sip, her eyes ended up back on the doorway, looking for the one person she actually wanted to see at this sorry party.

On the opposite side of the room, Max had already spotted her, wrapped in an absolute bombshell of a red dress, clearly looking for him, and a grin stretched across his face. She'd taken his advice. The quick boost to his ego was almost enough to wipe the nervous jitters from his gut, but fuck, she knocked the air out of his chest. Taking a deep breath and swallowing back the last of his nerves, he cut a path through the crowd straight to her. Her attention was firmly positioned at the door as he came up on her other side.

"Looking for someone?" His question made Riley jump, spinning towards his voice, barely managing to keep her drink from splashing across the well tailored suit he was in. As she realized who he was, she shuttered a sigh before smacking his chest.

"Jackass. Where have you been?" Shaking her head, she pulled him into a one armed hug, her glass in hand over his shoulder. But as she pulled back, she spotted the spectacularly hot woman that was flanking him. "Oh...sorry, I..." She trailed off, eyes flicking back to Max, looking all too smug, then back to the girl, who suddenly made her feel a little self conscious in her dress that had previously been making her feel incredible. Her stomach turned and she ignored the implication.

"Sorry, Samantha and I lost track of time." He enjoyed her quiet seething, her brow twitching almost imperceptible, if he weren't actively looking for the tick that meant his plan was playing out well from the start. But she donned a polite smile in Samantha's direction.

"Hi, I'm Riley." She offered and Samantha nodded a greeting. Riley squirmed, unsure what to say but unwilling to let Max see how well he was succeeding at getting under her skin. She had a boyfriend; she didn't need to be jealous. More importantly, she didn't get to be jealous. But Samantha just looked back to Max.

"I'm gonna get a drink." She said blandly before wandering away without another word. Max's eyes followed after her for a moment before returning to take in Riley's dress from closer up. In spite of himself, he gave a pained smile.

"I should probably go with her. I hear there's pervy Wall Street execs to watch out for at this party." He chuckled but Riley just grimaced. Jonah had already cornered her with Harry Randall once tonight and it was all but promised that it wouldn't be the last time she had to see them. Max took a few steps away from her before pausing and twisting back to look at her, eyes appraising for a few beats longer than necessary, blistering and threatening to burn her to the ground. "You look fucking spectacular, by the way. Most beautiful girl in a clear mile."

He winked and was gone before she could respond but the heat that dusted her cheeks lingered much longer. Her eyes fell to the floor, hiding the tiny smile she couldn't suppress.

Max nodded, plainly disinterested as Samantha talked at him, his eyes trained on Riley, across the room, finally tucked back under her idiot's arm. Based on the way Jonah was tripping over himself, trying to impress the bald man beside them, he assumed he was finally weaseling his way in with the big wig he wanted to hook. His jaw clenched hard watching how the guy openly ogled her. She was worth ogling but, fuck, Jonah was practically serving her up on a platter.

“Yeah, that’s cool, hun. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t bother to wait for her to stop talking, setting his cup down on a table. She huffed but he was already wandering away.

Wading through the crowd, he watched as Randall skimmed a knuckle down her forearm. Max nearly toppled someone trying to plow through faster than the seas would part. He wanted to seem casual as he stumbled upon them but the way he burst through the throng, that dream was shattered.

“Hey! Maximillion, buddy!” Jonah threw his hands up and Max didn’t miss the way he slurred. Already had a strong start. “Where's the super hot date Riley was telling me about?” The smug smile that rose to Max’s face was one that made her mildly murderous.

“Oh she’s around here somewhere.” His hand gestured aimlessly behind him but his eyes didn't leave Riley. Her skin prickled with the heat he was throwing off.

"Mr. Randall," Riley pulled his attention politely since Jonah was too preoccupied to, "this is my best friend, Maxwell." The bite in her voice was probably only noticeable to Max but his stomach turned. She sounded like she was trying to send a message - an angry one. The bald man offered a firm hand to him and he shook it, trying to match the enthusiasm.

"Please, I keep trying to tell this pretty thing here to call me Harry. We're all friends here, aren't we?" His voice was slick and his knuckles grazed across Riley's cheek that time. Max's hands clenched at his side, watching the way her entire body froze up. But then Harry was gesturing behind Max with a devious grin. "Ahh, this must be your date." Max ground his teeth, eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment before turning back to see that Samantha had, in fact, followed him over. He roped an arm around her and pulled her into the group, determined to make it worth the interruption.

“Oh, that’s her alright.” He beamed, eyes falling heavily on Riley.

“Well shit, she wasn’t kidding.” Jonah elbowed Harry, their eyes hungrily crawling up every inch of exposed skin they could see.

“Boys, this is my date, Samantha Walker.” Max showed her off to them and she gave a bored half smile. “You might recognize her from the billboard in Times Square.” The boys tittered excitedly but his gaze was squarely on Riley, her eyes narrowed at him.

“Of course. Gorgeous work.” Harry held a delicate hand out to her and she laid hers in it for him to pull to his lips for a kiss before letting her pull away. “You’re a welcome sight at any party.”

“You should see the magazine spread that’s coming next month.” She kept a tight smile, head cocked at Harry, who had a nauseating grin on, before turning to Max.

“Boy, as long as you’ve got her around, you’ve got a standing job offer with me.” Max let out a smug laugh, delighting in the way Jonah’s smile fell but quickly recovered.

“I might just take you up on that. Maybe investment banking is my lost calling.” He nudged Jonah with a taunting grin but it was repaid with a sneer.

"Oh gotta be careful with Maxie, here, you know he's professional wrestler? Never know when he might crack you with a chair shot to the head." Jonah chuckled condescendingly and Harry took an appraising look over Max. Riley glared at Jonah, smacking his stomach.

"Is that right?" Harry lodged the question at Max but Jonah cut him off.

"Yup, wrestling for rave crowds of twenty people in high school gymnasiums across New England." Jonah snickered, eyes darting between Harry and Samantha.

"He's an incredible athlete," Riley inserted herself and Max's eyes shot to her with a grin that rivaled the irritation on Jonah's face. "A generational talent that is getting the chance to make history, wrestling for over ten thousand people in Chicago this fall." She only let herself send a pointed look to Jonah, not daring to connect with what she was sure was an insufferable face that Max was making. As much as she was annoyed with Max, no one got to talk about him like that - not even her drunk ass boyfriend.

"That is fascinating, you know, maybe the next time the circus comes to town, we could all get box seats at your gymnasium." Harry clapped his back with a patronizing grin and Max matched his insincerity. "As long as you bring Sam, here."

"Oh, fantastic. Sounds like a plan." He squeezed Samantha to his side and Riley shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Then Riley might finally get some competition for hottest person in the crowd for once." His eyes drifted back to hers with a sharp smile that made her skin prickle. She chewed at her lip, trying not to let him get to her but the pit in her stomach fueled itself. Her jaw clenched. "Huh, Ry? We can take some of the pressure off you. Samantha's already used to being the hottest in any room."

“What are you doing with Max, anyway?” Jonah aimed at Samantha and she giggled. “You’re so far out of his league, it should be illegal.”

“Like you’re one to talk.” Max shot back and Harry slapped his back with a loud laugh.

When he glanced back across the circle, though, he just barely caught it as Riley was slipping back out of the group. He waited for anyone else in the circle to notice but the sound of Harry’s booming laugh confirmed it was only him. He went to draw attention back on her but Harry was already blabbing.

“See, this is just what I want in a team!”

But Riley was out of sight now and Max was left wondering what the hell he was doing with these people.

Watching with a rotten face, Max rolled his eyes as Jonah poured a drink for a giggling Samantha across the room. He was nearly regretting bringing her now; Riley may have been jealous but she was also barely speaking to him, and, as he was finding out, Samantha was not the greatest conversationalist. Not the issue he thought he was going to have.

But before he could stew about it, his elbow was yanked from its spot, forcing him away from the table. He recognized the back of Riley’s head, dragging him towards the back door but should have known it was her from the way his skin burned at the touch. She barely stopped, throwing open the door to her back deck and pulling him out after her. The sound of her slamming the door closed was met with an abrupt silence, only the thumping of the music inside seeping through. She all but tossed him against the back wall of her house.

"What the hell are you doing, huh?" She demanded and Max sat back, startled by her outburst. He knew he was getting under her skin but this was possibly the most worked up he'd ever seen her.

"I'm trying to enjoy a party...was I doing it wrong?" He was smug. If she was going to confront him this angrily, he was going to extract a little joy out of it first.

"I mean with Malibu Barbie." She said as if it should have been obvious, but she didn't like the way his lips curled around.

"Jonah told me to bring a date. I'm just following directions." He held up his hands innocently and she scoffed, pacing away from him then back.

"Okay but no one told you to bring someone that outrageously hot. I'm supposed to be making some gross impression on Jonah's stupid, pervy boss but I can't even do that because you're parading around here with a fucking Playboy Bunny and she makes me look like an unpolished turd." Her words were breathless and halfway through she took back up her pacing, unable to meet his eye. She was spinning out and couldn't reign herself back in. This entire night was making her neurotic and she couldn't even decide what was causing the worst of it. But she knew that being disappointed because some pervy old man stopped ogling her wasn't helping.

"Okay well first of all," He held up a finger and Riley blew out a breath, glaring at him in advance of whatever he was going to inevitably say to annoy her. "You’re a fucking smoke show, Miss Red Dress." Her cheeks burned with the insinuation, his eyes raking over every inch of her. "Don't ever let me hear you talk about yourself like that again." His voice made it clear it was a threat, though she wasn’t sure she could stand to know what it was threatened against. “Second of all, call me crazy but maybe the party - that is supposed to be an apology to you - shouldn’t be all about using you as sexual harassment bait.” He shrugged with pursed lips and Riley blew out a breath. “Maybe, just maybe, you deserve better than that.” His tongue traced the inside of his teeth as he tried to keep his voice under control, eyes locked with hers. She let her body fall back but he stepped closer to her and his voice dropped an octave, devilish smile sneaking onto his face as he tilted his head. “And lastly, you are sounding awfully jealous.”

“I am not jealous.” She gaped, crossing her arms over her chest, blowing past everything else he had said. That was the only part she knew how to refute.

“Right so you won’t mind, then, if I remind you that Samantha isn’t a Playboy Bunny, she’s a Victoria's Secret Angel.” He had been fortunate that Samantha’s brother owed him a favor. And he felt even more fortunate, watching Riley’s face scrunch up, tiny fists squeezed at her sides and color rising to her cheeks.

“You’re a jackass.”

“And you’re jealous.” It wasn't a question or a presumption this time; it was a matter of fact, but she glared at him none-the-less.

"Well you only even brought her to make me jealous." The words hissed through her teeth were placating the growing pit in her stomach and fueled by an ill-advised tequila shot. Max scoffed with a laugh, his whole body swaying back with it.

"You've got a boyfriend, sweetheart. Me bringing a hot chick shouldn’t make you jealous." He said and heat raced to her face. Her eyes darted inside at the party that wouldn't even notice she was missing, then back at Max. Words mulled around her mouth, fumbling to produce a sentence that wouldn't make a fool of her.

"I...just...this morning...I thought..." Abject failure. Crashed and burned. She swallowed hard and averted her eyes from what she was certain was his absolute delight. Max paused, studying the shame on her face, tracing it back to their conversation before he left this morning, and the light clicked in his head. A devious smile curled around his lips.

"Ohhh." He cooed, sliding into her line of sight with a pout. "What? You realized I was right this morning when I said I could have you any time I want?" She took a step back towards the door, suddenly regretting pushing this subject. "Or did you know I was right as soon as I said it? Were you hoping I was gonna flex my ability to get you naked right there on your kitchen counter?"

Riley's breathing faltered and swallowing back her nerves became next to impossible. Every hair on her arms was standing on end. She took a couple hurried steps towards the door, shaking her head, content to flee into the party and delay this conversation indefinitely. There was no way she could be trusted to be alone with him for another minute. But Max caught her wrist as she turned, drawing her in close. She skittered back against the wall of the house and he was quick to crowd her in. This was not how she intended for things to go when she pulled him out here.

"Riley," He drawled, "did you put on this pretty red dress, just like I like, hoping I would come and tempt you into some dark corner to take it off?" His hand skated up the curve of her waist, words hushed in the rustle of summer air, her hand on his chest the only stopper between them. She shook her head but the flush of shame she felt told a different story. His breathy laugh ghosted along her jaw before his lips settled by her ear. "No? So you weren’t hoping I would fuck you like a whore against this wall with your boyfriend right inside just to prove I can?"

“N-no…” her voice wavered unmistakably, her hand drifting, and Max tsked.

“Want to try again and see if you can make it sound like you mean it?” He said, and she could feel his smirk against her neck.

“Fuck you.” She shot back but it sounded a bit loftier than she intended. Max’s breath fanned across her skin and sent a wave of goosebumps down her back.

“Better but it would be more convincing if you weren’t literally trying to get into my pants right now.” He rubbed his thumb into her waist and she jolted as she realized the way her hand had moved down past his stomach, a finger absently hooking around the top of his slacks. Her hands flew up, away from all incrimination, and she pushed him back.

“That’s not….!” She shouted but couldn’t manage to conjure the end of her argument and Max raised a mocking brow.

“When are you gonna learn that you can’t lie to me, Ry?” His voice was still hushed but he kept the small distance she’d forced between them.

“I’m not lying.” She insisted with a petulant huff, in spite of the way her body was begging her to pull him back in against her. “I only took your suggestion for the dress because I needed to make a good impression for my actual boyfriend. It doesn’t mean I want to fuck you, you egomaniac.” She said with a bite, rolling her eyes. It almost sounded like she might have meant it that time but she didn’t like the taste it left in her mouth. Max tutted.

“See? This is exactly why we couldn’t live together.” He sniped, watching as fire roared to life behind her eyes. “You can’t handle it.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She let her anger take full control of her voice, burying the sting she felt way down beneath it all. “That has nothing to do with this!”

“Please.” He scoffed. “I bring a date to one event, after I was told to do so, and you don’t last thirty minutes before dragging me out here to pick a fight.” Riley didn’t like the way her heart rate picked up. She was regretting this choice more and more with every second that it exposed her further. “And now you’re trying to throw your boyfriend in my face like it’s supposed to make me jealous…” He let out a dark laugh and stepped back into her. She held his gaze steadily, hoping a false confidence would keep him from seeing right through her. “I told you, you would have lost your mind if we lived together and I brought a girl home with me and its looking like I was right.” Riley scowled at him, an angry bile rising in her throat, a sickly feeling spreading through her body.

“Right, because of course that’s right where your mind went when I asked you to live with me.” The venom in her voice was involuntary, months buried emotions seeping through. She was fuming, chest heaving with her breath.

"Like you have room to talk." His eyes narrowed. "You fucking sprinted into this relationship after I said no."

"Yeah, almost like I was - " But she stopped short, swallowing back the words. That wasn't a sentence she could stand to finish. He didn't need any more ammunition against her. If he knew how much he’d hurt her, she would be left with so little deniability. But he was so close that she could smell his cologne and the warmth of his body was muddying her senses.

"Like you were what?" He was staring straight through her, his frame looming over her.

"Nothing." She snapped, jaw clenched tight. “Fucking forget it.” Max’s fingers clenched by his side, wringing out every ounce of restraint he could to keep from grabbing a fistful of her hair.

“No. Say it. Please, I’d love to hear what thought process led you to this housewarming party. You just scared to be alone or were you trying to piss me off?” He sneered and the red hot anger in her gut boiled over.

“Screw you, Max.” She shoved hard at his chest but he didn’t budge.

“Did you think you’d make me regret saying no if you started dating the stupidest man alive?” He just kept on digging. But, oh he did regret saying no. He had regret it the second he watched her face fall; then doubly the next week when her mom’s set up suggestion left her mouth. And even more so when he met Jonah for the first time.

“Shut up! It had nothing to do with you.” Heat flushed her cheeks and she desperately hoped he couldn’t tell in the dim light.

“Bullshit. That’s bullshit and you know it!” He pointed a finger right in her face and she swatted it away.

“Look, if you were jealous when I started dating Jonah, just say that.” She pivoted, “But I didn’t do shit because of you.” Poking her tongue hard into her cheek and she watched the way the vein in his head bulged through narrowed eyes. Still just short of convincing.

“Lie to yourself as much as you want but you’re not fooling me, sweetheart.” His cocky voice made her bristle. “You can’t throw on your brat voice and think you’re gonna convince me you don’t want me to fuck you.” She gaped at him, brow knit together.

“I really can’t stand you.” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, his body pressed on the other side, unable to find the words to refute any of it.

“Yeah, okay, brat.” He chuckled, rolling his eyes, and she scowled before immediately undoing her arms so she could flick his face hard right in the center of his forehead. Snatching her hand out of the air, he held it up between them with a blistering irritation on his face. Her eyes widened, heart beat pulsing in her ears. “You’re pushing your fucking luck, princess.” The growl of his whispered voice sent a shiver down her spine. Fire spread through her veins. Raising one deliberate finger on her free hand, she pushed it firmly into his chest.

"Push." She taunted him with a defiant look on her face, and his eyes blazed. Yanking her hand hard, he held both her arms up between them with a tight grip around the wrists, and they lingered, chests heaving, locked in a tense stand off.

The sound of her back door opening sent them skittering away from each other lightning fast. Riley’s heart raced as she saw Jonah step out onto the back patio. What the hell was she doing here? What the hell was she thinking? The line she was dancing on was a treacherous one.

“Should’ve known I’d find you two together. Mind if I steal my girl for a dance?” Jonah laughed and sent a ripple of strained laughter to echo around them. Riley was quick to jump to his side.

“Fine, but have her back by ten.” Max deadpanned, leaning back against the small wrought iron patio table.

Jonah saluted before leading Riley back inside. As they stepped through the door, she took one final glance back at him and instantly regret it when she saw the angry, hungry way he was watching her. Oh, she was in trouble.

But she let Jonah lead her out into the center of the crowd that had formed in her living room. It was clear that he was a few more drinks in than he had been when she left him. She could smell the liquor on his mouth as he drew her in close and she wound an arm around his shoulders.

“I think things are going really well.” Jonah whispered, starting to move them to the rhythm of the slow song that was playing, watching the room over Riley’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” She hummed, trying to regain her composure, skin still prickling.

“Yeah, Harry and I are meshing on a whole other level. And you have definitely made an impression on him!” He sounded enthusiastic but Riley only grimaced, out of his view; she didn’t want to know what he meant by that. And it made her tantrum outside feel a whole lot more like it may have been fueled by jealousy.

“A good one, I hope.” But she wasn’t sure she did.

“Oh a fantastic one. That dress is a money maker. You should’ve heard the things he said when I tracked him down in the kitchen before.” He winced. “Well…maybe it’s better you don’t…” Riley rolled her eyes but they landed across the room, where Max was leading Samantha out onto the makeshift dance floor that was once her living room.

“Yeah. Probably for the best.” She found herself unable to look away from the two of them.

“Max really came through tonight, though, huh? Brought enough eye candy for everybody to share.” He chuckled to himself and Riley tripped over her own feet, barely saving herself, cursing. “Think she’ll stick around? I could probably get Harry to offer me a contract on the spot if he thinks it’ll mean Samantha could be around at holiday parties.” He meant it as a joke but Riley didn’t laugh. Her teeth were grinding, eyes clambering to find them again as they turned back in the direction she’d last seen them.

“Charming.” She muttered. Her eyes finally locked in on Max, his hands on Samantha’s waist, whispering something into her ear that made her throw her head back laughing. He looked up at that moment and caught Riley’s gaze across the room, lips curling into a smug smile. She averted her eyes instantly, grateful for the rotation as they danced. “I wouldn’t count on seeing her again.”

“Shame. I wouldn’t have minded if you two hit it off and she started coming for sleepovers instead of Max.” He sighed and she was instantly torn between guilt over the mess that had become her friendship with Max versus the desire to hit Jonah for almost certainly thinking about a pillow fight he didn’t deserve to see. But all of it was really just a way to stifle the feeling that rose up as they rotated back into view and she saw Max’s hand dipping lower and lower down Samantha’s back.

“Yeah, well you know Max.” She said dryly. Jonah thrummed his fingers idly along her waist.

"I suppose that's true. Guy does not like to double dip." He moved them around the floor until he got a glimpse of them for himself. Riley grimaced at the crude statement, quiet on just how wrong it was. Jonah didn't know about everything that happened before he came along and she didn't particularly feel like sharing. What happened between her and Max was huge and looming and, most importantly, only for them. "But come on, sometimes you have to make an exception."

The music moved to a faster tempo but Jonah didn't release his grip on her hips and she didn't resist. He guided her movements against him as she craned her neck over his shoulder, instantly connecting with Max's gaze across the room. The gnawing feeling in his gut as he watched Jonah put his hands all over things that didn't belong to him was driving his actions now as he turned Samantha around and wound an arm around her center. Fire roared to life in Riley's chest as she blew out a shaky breath, and he grinned at her from behind Samantha's head, downright gleeful at how well he'd gotten under her skin. But two could play that game.

Snaking her arm more firmly around Jonah's neck, she pulled him into a searing kiss, eyes locked with Max until the last second. Jonah didn't hesitate to work their hips together, fingers squeezing into her ass and she made a show of letting her tongue sweep into his mouth. Max tensed across the room, blood pounding in his ears and fingers twitching in an attempt to control his urge to deck Jonah. When she finally pulled back from the kiss, Jonah let his lips fall to her neck and she let her eyes fall back to Max. She could see his teeth grinding from there, veins in his head threatening to burst, and the thrill that gave her was enough to tip the scales past the guilt that was gnawing at her gut. So when Max's lips trailed down to Samantha's neck, Riley turned in Jonah's arms, grinding her ass into his crotch. She didn't know if Jonah could see Max watching them but, at this point, she wasn't sure she cared. Jonah's fingers were skimming the edge of her dress up, revealing more of her thigh, wrapped in sheer black tights, and it was making Max's eyes dark with a possessive need that was making her panties wet from all the way across the room.

"Sorry to interrupt, could I just grab you for a second?" Harry Randall's voice burst Riley clear out of her bubble. "Won't have him long at all." He assured her and Jonah stepped away from her. She tried to cool the heat on her neck with the back of her hand. Harry roped an arm around Jonah but stopped before leading him away, leaning into Riley's space. "But do leave a dance for me, tonight, won't you, beautiful?" She smiled through a grimace, nodding with bared teeth.

The moment they had turned away, Riley dashed downstairs, away from the noise of the party. She needed a moment alone or she was going to end up making some very bad decisions. Her skin was prickling with so much heat that it physically hurt and she could feel herself spinning completely out of control. She just needed to get through this night. After that…well after that she needed to do some serious thinking.

But as she breezed past the kitchen on her way to lock herself away in a bathroom, she was yanked back and sandwiched against the island. Her fingers pressed into the firm chest in front of her before her eyes scrolled up to meet the storm in Max's eyes, and she leaned hard into that spin out of control.

"You seriously trying to make me jealous, brat?" His voice took a dangerous edge, his hands squeezing tight around her hips. Riley wet her lips, her mouth dry, and her fingers curled idly around edges in the fabric of his suit.

"Looks like its working." She taunted, hoping it was convincing enough to make him believe she wasn't fully flustered, and his eyes rolled back for a moment before he surged forward, hips pinned hard against hers. He gripped her chin tight, angling it up against a mild, bratty resistance.

"You think you can make me jealous with that slimy piece of shit?" He spat the words with venom as if he hadn't been ready to burst watching them on the dance floor; as if he hadn't been burning with jealousy over every single guy she had ever wasted her time with. His fingertips were digging into her jaw deliciously painful and his voice dropped to a low growl, enunciating every word with its own bite. "I was turning you on more just by looking at you, than he was while he slobbered on your neck." Riley couldn't tear her eyes away from him if she wanted to. Her face was burning but that had nothing on the fire dancing between her legs. "I know this body better than he ever could." He let one hand venture down her thigh and she shivered, cursing her body for the fire that was licking at the spots he touched. Steeling herself with a breath in, she raised a brow.

“Yeah? And yet, he was the one in my bed last night.” She sniped and he dug his fingers into her jaw so tight she had to squeeze her legs shut.

“Oh yeah? Was he making you feel real good in bed last night?” He chided and she tried, with a scowl, to rip her face out of his grip but he didn’t relent. “Did he roll his sweat-soaked, beer-bloated corpse over and give you the ride of your life? Or are you still just trying to make me jealous with your flimsy ass relationship?” His face hovered an inch from hers, the patronizing sneer plastered across it making her skin crawl.

“Why the fuck would I care about making you jealous?” She said, nostrils flaring.

“You tell me, Riley.” He levied it like a challenge and she fumbled for an answer that felt halfway plausible because she couldn’t stand to let him keep looking this smug. “Cause I can’t think of any other reason for you to act like it matters at all that he was in your bed when we both know you were laying there, thinking about me.” He was just a breath away from her lips and it made the breath in her chest stutter.

“You are so full of yourself.” She spat, the muscles in her jaw tensing with the effort she put into seeming like she wanted to get away. “Do you seriously think I’m laying awake at night, pining away after you. Get a grip.” His fingers tugged, incessant and involuntary, on the bottom of her dress, knuckles dragging along her tights and providing a damning distraction.

“I know you are. Especially last night. Because I know you, Riley. I know you and I know how this body works.”

"And yet, somehow I've still got my panties on." She said dryly but it came out sounding a lot like a challenge, and she kept digging. "Clearly you don't know my body as well as you think or you'd have me laid out on this countertop already." Max's fingers curled around the edge of her dress, twitching. "Or do you not want to fuck me, Max?" Her lips curled with the snap of each word, the thrill up her spine brandishing a courage she was wielding recklessly, and he blew a ragged breath out his nose, nails dragging up her thigh beneath the dress. His self restraint was dangling by a thread tonight. Months of watching her flaunt that stupid fucking relationship - a glaring reminder of his own stupidity.

"You're playing with fire, sweetheart. Keep it up, you're gonna end up gettin' burned." He adjusted his grip on her jaw, sliding up to squeeze her cheeks hard enough to make her lips pucker, giving her face a little dismissive shake before letting his hand fall back to his side and taking a step back. Riley's brows furrowed into a scowl; she wasn't ready for this fight to end.

"I think you're full of shit." She stoked the fire. "I think you talk a big fucking game but you couldn't get me undressed tonight if you tried." Max threw his head back with a booming, patronizing laugh. Then, brows drawn, he tutted as though a decision had been made for him, and, with a shrug and a hiss of air between his teeth, he started undoing the buttons of his jacket. He didn't break eye contact as he slipped the jacket off and draped it over a nearby chair back, pressure fluttering to life in her belly.

"Yeah? That how you want to play this, Riley? You want me to prove it to you?" He uncuffed the wrists of the dress shirt he had on, pushing them up his forearms, pulling her attention firmly to the pronounced veins that wound down into his hands. Her mouth hung open, grasping for a response as he stepped back against her. "You want me to prove that you won't move an inch when I put my hand on your thigh?" He let his fingers graze the inside of her thigh and her breathing faltered but she didn't budge, just watching the electrifying path up. Her brain was shaking her by the shoulders, telling her to move but god damn it if her body didn’t have a much bigger say in the matter, and fuck, her body never wanted him to stop touching her. "You want me to prove that if let my fingers wander up past this pretty red dress, that you won't push me away?" he crept right along and her hand sprung up, tangling in the hair at the base of his head, keeping him close. He leaned into her space, his nose brushing its way up her neck. God, no one alive could make her feel this weak. "Sweetheart, I’m not jealous because this is all it takes to get you to spread your legs for me.” His knee tapped at the space between hers and it started to happen before the words could even settle in her brain. He grinned into her throat. She gasped his name breathlessly and his cock throbbed beneath his slacks. He smacked the peak of her thigh hard enough for the noise to echo around the empty floor, and she whimpered. “Want me to prove how quickly I can get you begging me to rip clean through these tights, brat?” He snarled, fingers pulling tights away from skin but the sound of footsteps descending the stairs had her pushing him steps away. An excited conversation settled to a hush as Jonah and Harry came into view.

“There you are! Maxie! M’ man!” Jonah was wobbling, arm slung around Harry who didn’t seem more than a drink behind him. A match made in heaven if Max had ever seen one. His teeth ground, spinning to face him. So fucking close.

“You lookin’ for me?” His eyes flicked to Riley, cheeks flushed and breathing unsteady. Fuck, she looked needier than he'd seen her in months and it was physically painful to not be able to capitalize.

“Yeah, bud. My pal, here was hoping he could get a dance in with your date?” Jonah thumbed at Harry and Max suppressed the disgusted sneer that was bubbling beneath the surface.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Samantha that?” He didn’t have the patience for this bullshit.

“Well, yeah, of course. We just wanted to check with you first, you know? Make sure we got your permission before we ask her about him…” Jonah grinned, baring too many teeth. “…and maybe one for me too.” Max turned the request over in his head before a slick smile graced his face.

“You know what, I think that’s a great idea. You take my girl for a spin, and I’ll take your girl for a spin.” He proposed, eyes darting to Riley with a glimmer of mischief, and Jonah clapped his hands in approval, seemingly oblivious to what he’d walked in on.

“That feels like a mighty fair deal, eh Jonah?” Harry elbowed him and he nodded eagerly. Riley felt her stomach clench, anger building just behind her face, ready to billow out her nose. He was shameless - ready to trade her away in an instant. She had no right to be annoyed with him, given her predicament, but it didn't stop her.

“Sounds fantastic. You don’t mind, do you, babe?” He finally turned to Riley who sat back with a resigned expression just barely masking the simmering anger.

“Not at all. Max knows how to keep me company.” She said sharply and didn’t miss the way Max perked up.

“Great!” Jonah crossed the room for a quick kiss on the cheek that Riley fought against her urge to dodge.

"Sam just went to grab some ice, you guys should wait out on the front step for her. I'm sure she'll be back soon." Max offered as if he hadn't let Sam know she could head home for the night before he came down to see Riley. Jonah gave a thumbs up before returning to the stairs. Max was by her side before Jonah was out of the room, crooked smile a dangerous sign of what’s to come.

“So, gonna take that dance with the devil after all, Ry?” He offered a hand out to her and Jonah stopped at the top of the stairs with a glance back. Hesitating, her eyes locked with Max, she laid a reluctant hand in his and let him lead her up the stairs.

Pulling Riley into the crowded center of the makeshift dance floor, he waved a goodbye to Jonah with a sickly smile. He twirled her round with their joined hands until she was standing flush against him, skin buzzing so loudly she thought Jonah might hear it across the room. Max raised their hands up, pulling it to drape around his neck before he released it and let his hand fall to her hip.

“Max…” She warned, walking the tightrope of a line that every traitorous inch of her body was begging her to dive off, straight into him.

“Yes, Riley?” He replied innocently, in spite of the not so innocent way his hips were already moving against her.

“We shouldn’t…” But she couldn’t finish the thought when his lips brushed her ear. She was already wound so tight she wasn't sure she could withstand the pressure of being this close.

“We’re just dancing. We’ve danced a million times before.” He whispered, the breath tickling her neck, while rocking his hips, guiding hers against his.

The slinky, pulsing music echoed the beat of her heart and her free hand came up to rest on his firm chest. He wasn’t wrong. They had danced often enough that it felt like second nature. But never when she had a boyfriend; at least, not like this. And never when they had just been so close to crossing the line. Now, though, she didn’t need him to guide her; her hips were moving plenty well on their own. And when his fingers tangled in the hair on the back of her head, she was lost to it. Max watched as her eyes fluttered shut, lips swollen and parted in a contented breath.

“Not so mouthy now, huh?” He murmured into the thin skin of her neck and goosebumps raised up her arms. “You startin’ to get tired of pretending you don’t want this?”

And she was. She was exhausted. Her body was physically aching for him, she wanted to give in so badly. She was tired of fighting it. And she was tired of having all these strangers in her house. And she was really tired of not being able to remember the last interaction she had with her boyfriend that didn’t leave her fuming. And she was really, really tired of feeling guilty all the time when she hadn’t even had any fun.

“Yes.” The word slipped out her mouth, a needy whisper, so quiet Max almost missed. But he thanked god he didn’t because that was all he needed to hear to spin her around and sandwich her back against his body with an arm snaked around her waist.

“You don’t have to fight this hard, Riley.” His lips reconnected with the shell of her ear and his other hand landed on her hip. “You tried. It didn’t work. Stop torturing yourself.” She melted into him, her head falling back on his shoulder as they moved against each other to the music.

The song ended but neither of them were moving an inch. As the next song started, more people filled in around the dance floor, the crowd shifting until they were at its pulsing center. She’d never seen this many people in her house at once but none of them felt real - it was all just a roaring hum encircling the only real thing she’d ever known. As the fog machine kicked on, Riley's inhibitions slipped. Her arm reached up behind her head, snaking around his neck, fingers nestling in his hair.

“Were you thinking about me while you were dancing with your boyfriend earlier?” He hissed, yanking her hip flush against him, and she sucked in a breath. “Were you grinding that perfect little ass into him, wishing it was me?” And she nodded before she could stop herself, hips winding against his crotch as she hummed a confirmation. “What else have you been wishing for, sweetheart?” He rocked into her and nipped at her earlobe, pulling a whine from her chest.

“I wished it was you in my bed last night.” The words were a trembling whisper that she wished she could have blamed on alcohol. Max’s fingers dug into her flesh, his hips stuttering for just a moment, his stiffness getting more apparent as she ground back into him. He was so close; she was nearly his again, and it was a little heady.

“Oh yeah?” He peppered featherlight kisses over her neck and her breathing faltered. “Were you laying in bed next to him, imagining the dirty things I’d do to you if I was there?” His voice rumbled, the vibration spreading down her spine and she nodded, head tilting to accommodate him, the delicious ache between her legs taking control of the steering wheel.

“Mmmhm, like the way your fingers would've climbed up my thigh.” Her free hand covered his that was wrapped around her waist, guiding it down over her hips to the bottom of her dress. He growled into her neck, fingers curling around the edge of the fabric. He nipped at the delicate skin and she keened. If the music wasn’t so loud, she was certain she would have been heard.

“Did you picture how I would have spread your legs wide before sliding right past those tiny little shorts you wear to bed." His voice was a low rumble in her ear and pressure built in her core, pulsing and raw and impossible to ignore. She guided his hand further up her thigh, pushing past her dress, dragging along the thin fabric of her tights. “Or maybe you hoped I'd tease you first.” He lightly resisted the path she had set his hand on, setting a more torturous pace. “Make you writhe and beg for it like a good little slut.” His warm palm crept up until his fingers just brushed her panties through her tights before pulling back an inch. Riley's heart raced, her brain buzzing with so many bad ideas she couldn’t see through the fog. Her body, though - her body knew exactly what it wanted.

“Maaaaax..." She whined but he only tutted in her ear, fingers tapping the top of her thigh each time. Her hips chased his touch to no avail as his other arm wound tight around her hips, anchoring her to the spot.

"What do you want, Riley?" He cooed against her neck. She squirmed in his grip with a whimper, her hand pulling his more urgently toward her center. He obliged her, cupping her mound, his middle finger stroking firmly over her. Her body jerked at the sensation but he pinned her hips to his. Stroking her through her tights, he could already feel her slick seeping through.

“Already so messy for me. You been missin' my fingers that much?” He rubbed slow, steady circles into her and her head rested on his shoulder, mouth opening in a breathless pant. She grasped at the last straws of reason that told her maybe, just maybe, they weren’t crossing a line if her clothes stayed on. She knew, deep down, that they were way too far gone for that, though. She knew she was hurtling miles past the line already and wasn’t close to stopping. She also knew that she really didn't want to stop. His hands were addicting and seven months without them was leaving her desperate for a fix. A much stronger fix than this.

“More, please Max, I need more…” She rocked against his hand, the fog in her brain almost as thick as the fog spilling into her living room. He chuckled against her throat.

“There’s my good little slut. Let me hear how bad you need my fingers inside you.” He rasped, pulling her tights away from the skin of her thighs, fiddling with the seam. Her fingers fumbled to help but he smacked them away. His free hand came up to guide her chin until she met his eyes over her shoulder, close enough to breathe the same air. “Use your words, Riley.” Her name on his tongue made her head spin until the entire world was just them, like they had always been, and this fog.

“Please, daddy, I need to come on your fingers…” She hurtled herself so far over the line that she couldn’t see it behind her, and Max couldn’t stop the low growl that emanated from his chest before he pulled her face the rest of the way in for a crushing kiss. Her fingers tightened in the hair on the back of his head and her body arched to meet him, hungrily demanding more. She didn’t know how much she’d missed the way he kissed her but now she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to stop. Abandoning all pretense of dancing, they devoured each other like they would never get another chance, fervent and messy and clinging tightly to each other.

His hand trailed down her face, pawing hard at her chest, his hips still grinding into her ass, unmistakably hard. He pinched her nipple through the fabric of her dress and she moaned into his mouth, making his cock twitch against her body. Impatient, he hastily reached both hands up beneath her dress, fingers curling round and tearing a hole wide open through the crotch of her tights. She gasped at the sudden motion and he captured her bottom lip with his teeth, pulling back until it released.

With one hand returning to rope around her hips, holding her tight to him, he used the other hand to pull her panties to the side. She clung to his hair, foreheads pressed together hard, her mouth hanging open just a breath from his as he delved into her dripping folds, and she jolted at the sensation.

And she should have felt shame. She should have felt that gnawing pit of guilt that had lived in her stomach for the last month or at least felt nervous that they could be caught if the fog lifted for a moment, but she didn’t. All she felt was need. All consuming, brain altering need that was threatening to burn her entire life to the ground.

“So wet for daddy.” He cooed, rubbing rough circles into her clit as his lips trailed down to her neck. “Is my dirty little slut turned on knowing anyone could see me taking what’s mine right now?” And that guilt roared to life as a prickling arousal that pulsed in her veins. His fingers were a live wire, making her squirm and buck in his arms, incapable of thinking clearly enough to know if she wanted more or less.

“Don’t stop, fuck, please…” Was all she could manage. He didn’t miss a beat as he kept his thumb circling her tiny bundle of nerves while sliding two fingers down her folds and plunging them past her entrance. “Shit!” Her knees wobbled beneath her and he steadied her with the arm around her hips. Head lolling back onto his shoulder, her lips parted in a series of breathy moans as he fucked his fingers into her, pressure building low in her belly right where the guilt used to be.

“Does your boyfriend touch you this good, sweetheart?” He rut his scarcely contained erection against her ass in time with his fingers and her eyes rolled back. His lips latched onto the thin skin of her throat, leaving unmistakable proof of their sins. “Does he know that if I move my fingers just…like…this…” he hooked his fingers up, stroking the spongy spot deep inside her, his thumb jamming on her clit, and her legs gave out completely. “That you’ll cum, shaking and sobbing my name in less than 10…9…8…” He kept up a demanding pace, arm around her waist the only thing keeping her upright.

“Fuck, daddy, please. I’mmmmmmm-Aaaaa!” Her pleas were cut short by a trembling cry, the pressure in her belly swelling beyond control. Fingers in his hair clawing at his scalp as he stretched her with a third finger sliding inside.

“5…4…3…”

Stroking faster and faster, he wound her right to a shaking, long overdue edge just before he pulled his fingers out, and she crumpled in his arms, reeling from the loss. Her wracked whimper would have, under any other circumstance, made her wither away in embarrassment but she was too far gone for that.

“You don’t deserve to come yet.” His voice was an icy rasp against her ear before he tutted, the arm around her waist snaked up across her chest. “Nooo, brat. If you want to come, you’re gonna have to beg for it.”

“Maaaaax.” She whined, rutting desperately against his hand, and he slapped her swollen, sensitive cunt.

“Tell me how bad you need it.” He demanded, ghosting the tip of his finger over her lips. “Tell me how bad you need me.” His other hand deftly slipped inside the cup of her dress, capturing her nipple between two fingers and rolling it until she arched into it.

“Fuck, Max, please. Pleeeeease. I need you, please let me come. Please, I’ll be a good girl.” She was well past the point of preserving pride, the disjointed string of pleas fumbling past her lips without bothering to run it past her brain. Max’s cock ached against her, already struggling to not instantly give her anything she asked for. “Please I’ll do anything just pleeease. Touch me, Max.” And he simply had to oblige. His fingers set a frenzied pace, strumming across her clit almost violently, and she bowed toward it, body strung high and tight in an instant.

“Tell me I’m better than him.” He snarled, nipping at her earlobe and she shuttered a sigh.

“W-what?” She stumbled and he mocked her, not letting up on his fingers’ pace.

“W-w-w-wha- you heard me. Or did my fingers already fuck you stupid?” His voice sent a flutter rippling through her core, quickly winding her back to the edge. “Are there any thoughts left in this pretty little head?” He tweaked her nipple and her body trembled, squirming in his grip as her consciousness started to feel floaty. “Aww what? Daddy’s little slut already ready to come?” His fingers strummed relentlessly and she was hurtling dangerously close to a place where she wouldn’t be able to stop the earth shattering orgasm that was looming at the edges of her vision. “Come on then, sweetheart. Tell me what we both already know. You can feel so good, beautiful, you just need to tell me how much better I am than your pathetic slimy boyfriend.” His lips latched around her neck and her mind floated so high above her head she couldn’t remember how she’d ever formulated a sentence before. “Trust me, Riley. You don’t want to come without permission. Do you remember the last time you did that?”

And the image was crystal clear in her mind, even if she couldn’t remember how her voice worked. It was impossible to forget that night or the torturous stupor that followed when he tied her to his bed with a vibrator and left for wrestling training. She was so delirious and overstimulated when he returned that she would have followed him off a cliff.

“Max, please, please, I can’t hold it any more, please.” The words that escaped didn’t feel like her voice anymore and she couldn’t hear the music filling her living room or see the strangers that surrounded them on all sides. All that existed in that moment was Max and his fingers, practically vibrating against her with how quickly he was moving them. Her whole body was drawn so taut, she wasn’t sure she could breathe without toppling into oblivion.

“Then say it. Tell me nobody else can touch you like this. Tell me nobody else can get you off like this.” But she was nearly gone, just a series of fractured curses leaving her lips like a prayer to get her through and Max growled, slapping her tit, then her cunt. “Or should I stop now?” He threatened and the last remnants of her brain panicked, tugging at his hair, desperate for an intact brain cell.

“No, god, please, don’t stop, daddy. Please, fuck, you’re everything. Please let me come, please, you’re better than Jonah. Please, please, you touch me better than him, you fuck me better than him. Nobody else can make me come like you, fuck, pleeeeeeeease!” There was no controlling the stream of begging that flowed from her mouth. Max bucked hard against her ass, squeezing her chest hard enough to leave a bruise, in an attempt to contain the pulsing pleasure that roared through him with her desperate voice.

“That’s my good girl. Now come for me. Soak my fingers, slut. Let go. Now.” His fingers didn’t falter, and she didn’t last another second, her entire body quaking on command as she gushed over his fingers. The room spun, her walls pulsing and squeezing around his fingers as he coaxed her through every last delicious second of her orgasm. “That’s it, sweetheart. So good for me.” He cooed, gently winding her down but not letting up on his grip around her waist.

Her brain slowly floated back down into her body, settling into him for every last second she could get, finally becoming cognizant of the fact that fog machine had been turned off and the haze that had obscured them was fading. Max finally withdrew his fingers, bringing them straight to his mouth where he moaned at the taste.

“Always so fucking sweet, Ry.” He said as he pulled them out of his mouth, reaching around to press them against her lips. She didn’t hesitate to let them sink all the way down until she was nearly gagging on them, her hand clinging to his wrist that was pulling out of her top, threading snugly around her waist. “Tastes like I was right.” She nipped at the thick digits until he withdrew them, glancing back over her shoulder at him with a starry gaze.

“Do I look undressed to you?” She drawled and the Cheshire grin that stretched across his face made her legs clench together.

“Not yet.”

He spun her around, dragging her into a heated, demanding kiss that she lost herself in for a minute. But the fog was all but cleared and her need was much greater than could be sated in the middle of this crowd, so when he pulled away, fingers trailing down her arm until they could curl around her hand, she didn’t hesitate. Maybe she should have; maybe she should have stopped the bleeding there. But if she was already going to hell, a detour to heaven didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

So she let him lead her up the stairs, sparing a look back at her with a hint of nerves he hoped she didn’t notice. Because whether she was running away from Jonah, or running back to him, he couldn’t afford to mess it up. For better or worse, this was a line they’d never crossed before and he wasn’t sure how this part played out. He’d always figured he could get her to if he tried but he’d never pulled the trigger. But he knew there was always still time to screw it up.

But when they rounded the top of the stairs, she pressed him against the wall, just out of view of the crowd downstairs but still very much exposed, and any stray nerves he had dissipated. He wasn’t convincing her anymore; she had made a decision. And that decision included dropping to her knees where she stood, not wasting a minute before skillfully unbuckling his belt. Max tried valiantly not to moan the moment her hand brushed his cock through his slacks. Fuck, this was going to be embarrassingly short.

He watched as her fingers deftly undid his slacks, his hand tangling up in her hair. She looked up at him as she slid the zipper down, wetting her lips and making him swallow hard. Palming him through his boxers, she watched the way his face twitched right alongside his cock. Lips curling up at the corner, she dragged her palm back down the length and leaned in, making a show of licking the tip through the fabric. His fingers tightened as a breath hissed through his teeth.

"Don't fuckin' tease, sweetheart." The rumble of his voice went straight to her core and she bit down on her lip as she spared another look up at him, thumbing over the waistband of his boxers. She dragged it down, painfully slow, until she freed him, erection bobbing in her face. Nimble fingers slid around the base, squeezing lightly and making his head fall back. She leaned in and traced the tip of her tongue from the base up to the tip of his cock, swirling around it before pulling back. A quiet groan vibrated through his chest, slipping toward a whine when she started flicking her tongue over the tip. His hand in her hair pushed her closer to what he needed desperately but she resisted, continuing with her teasing. "Riley..." It was a warning she had no intention of heeding.

"Yes, Maxie?" She batted her lashes at him and swirled the flat of her tongue around the tip of his cock, around and around, then just another feather light flit across the tip. Max let out a guttural noise before using his grip in her hair to flip her back against the wall. Looming over her, he rested his free hand against the wall behind her and a nervous desire built in the pit of her stomach.

"See, and here I thought you were gonna be a good girl." His grip in her hair loosened as he slid down to her chin. Rubbing his thumb over her lips, he tutted. "Should have known, my poor sweet girls not had her throat properly abused in months." Her eyes widened as his thumb slipped inside her mouth. "Next time, just ask for it, babe. You know I can't say no to you." His thumb not-so-delicately pried her mouth open wide before he eased the tip of his cock in, giving shallow little thrusts. She held his gaze, complying with his grip as he rocked his hips forward until he hit the back of her throat. Her hands flew up to his thighs, steadying herself as she gagged, and Max held his position, deeply seated until she was struggling to breathe. He twitched in her mouth and groaned, pulling all the way out, leaving a string of drool drawn out between them, and Riley gasping for air.

Squatting down until his face was level with hers, he smoothed a hand over her cheek, meeting her eyes steadily. She launched toward him, desperate for anything she could get. He indulged her for a few moments longer than he meant to, tearing away to stand up to his full height.

"Hands behind your back, brat. Lets see if you see remember how to take a throat fucking."

Riley held his gaze as she neatly clasped her hands low behind her back, tongue trailing along the edge of her teeth. Max pumped a fist over his cock, looking down at her with a blistering heat before yanking her hair so her head lightly knocked the wall, and her mouth fell open in a pant. Seizing the opportunity, Max slid right back into her mouth, holding her back against the wall as she attempted to bob up and down. Bending his knees, he rocked up into her mouth, urging past another inch, then another, and she struggled not to gag on it. He chuckled darkly, giving a few more shallow thrusts.

“What? Can’t handle a cock this big anymore?” He gave one more shallow thrust before surging all the way forward until every inch of him was driven down her throat. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you remember how.” He held his place until her throat relaxed around him and he eased back out and in. Groaning, he slowly worked up a rhythm, holding her head firmly against the wall. “That’s it. Such a good little slut for daddy.” His thrusts got sharper and his free arm rested against the wall. He grunted with each hard thrust down her throat, breathing labored and pressure building. Spit dripped down his legs as he fucked her mouth against the wall. His balls constricted and he groaned loud enough for everyone downstairs to hear. Riley hummed around his length and his entire body trembled, giving a few more jerky thrusts deep into her throat before spilling over the edge. “Fuck, fuck, baby, that’s it, fuck. Good girl, such a good fucking girl for me, fuck.”

Her cheeks hollowed and his fist clenched against the wall. Shaky hand still anchored in her hair, held her in place as his hips stuttered to an end until he finally pulled out. Heaving a breath, he squatted back down in front of her, taking her cheeks between his fingers, and she stuck her tongue out like they’d never missed a beat. Drawing his lips in, Max spit directly into her open mouth and she curled her tongue up and in, ensuring she got every bit before licking her lips.

“That’s my filthy little slut.” He cooed, his hands snaking behind her knees, scooping her up off her feet. Her limbs curled around him as he fumbled to get them into the privacy of her guest room and it’s closed door. “Welcome back, I missed ya.”

Kicking it closed behind him, he tossed her down onto the bed, crawling over her, warm palms guiding her legs apart. They melted aside for him as his hands slid past her thighs, pushing her dress up alongside them. She watched, propped up on her elbows as he bunched the fabric up over her hips, exposing her butchered tights and the soaked panties beneath, and she squirmed. His teeth skimmed down the length of her thigh, ribbing the tights until he reached exposed skin. Hand curled around the thick of her thigh, he sank his teeth into the skin and her hips bucked up towards his face with a squeal. Sucking until he was certain it would leave a sufficient mark, he soothed his tongue over it and hovered up past her hips, hands taking in every inch he could touch on his way up. His face pressed into her cleavage, he wound his hands behind her back, dragging the zipper down as far as it would go. Scooting up high enough to pepper kisses over her neck, his fingers deftly pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders, one at a time. She went to bury her fingers in his hair but before she could get a grip, he slipped back off the foot of the bed.

Riley met his eyes steadily, lips parted with her shuttered breathing, the intense, unrelenting need on his face making her squeeze her thighs together. Max grabbed one then two ankles and yanked her down toward the end of the bed, her legs spread around his hips. Fingers trailing up both legs, he reached for the bottom of her dress and shimmied it down her body. She cooperated, lifting her hips to help him get it under her and he tossed it aimlessly behind him. Then, taking a step back, his eyes raked, impossibly slow, over every exposed inch he had been craving so badly these past few months. He’d missed the constellation of freckles that dotted the space between her bra and her panties and he’d missed the way her chest turned red when she was turned on and he missed this particular set she was wearing. It only took a second before it dawned on him that she had bought this lacy set of lingerie on a shopping trip with him last year. It was hard to forget this set and he was hard pressed to believe she didn’t know what she was doing when she put it on.

“Now, Riley, you know what happened last time you wore this around me…” his eyes made an obvious path over the practically sheer fabric that was providing a view that made his chest ache. Riley bat her lashes and trailed a finger down into the cleft of her tits, then drawing it back up to her lips where she bit the tip.

“I don’t remember you doing anything especially memorable last Sunday…” She tapped her fingernail on her bottom lip, hair splayed out on the mattress beneath her. Max’s brow furrowed for a moment, realizing she was letting him know she’d worn this when she stayed over his house last week and they got wasted on jello shots. That night would have gone down much differently if he had known that at the time.

“You put this on to come get drunk at my house?” He tutted and she drew up on her elbows toward him but he pressed her back down with one hand on her chest, allowing it to drift down and grope her through the delicate fabric. “That why you kept leaning over in that low cut shirt?” Her back arched to get more but he slapped the exposed skin of her chest and she settled back down. “Were you hoping I’d spot this little number down your shirt and be so overcome with need,” fingers dug painfully hard into her skin, “that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from ripping your clothes off right there?” He watched the color creep up her chest and his hips rut into her crotch without thought. Riley’s eyes rolled back with a sigh, rolling her hips towards his the best she could, and he responded by grinding hard against her clit, only the thin fabric between them. “Is that what you were hoping for tonight? You wanted me to see a peak of this lace and not be able to stop until I’d completely ruined this cunt?” Her head craned up, meeting his eyes with a loaded expression. Trouble layered behind shame that was all drowned out by desire.

“What if I did?” She raised and his eyes scorched over her body, his hands moving faster than she could track, snaking around her ass and yanking her up to meet his hips at just the right angle. Her head fell back down with a curse.

“Well that would have been a very naughty thing to do.” He lowered her hips back down to the mattress and let both hands scrub up past her hips and stomach, then back down to grip the tops of her thighs. His thumbs swiped over the exposed skin surrounding the torn edges of her tights. “I think you’d leave me no choice but to rip these beautiful panties right off you. Make sure they can never be used in any more of your dastardly plans.” He tore her tights further up to her hips and she wiggled them, teeth raking over her bottom lip. Max held her eye as his fingers curled around the delicate lace waistband of her panties, digging his thumb into the material until he felt the fabric give just a smidge and then strained his arms, tearing straight through. Riley’s chest heaved with anticipation, watching him closely as he tossed them aside.

“And what would you do with me then?” She prodded, her feet toying with the waist of his pants that were barely hanging on without being buttoned. He shifted so they fell to the floor and she doubled her efforts to get his boxers down. He let them slip off, stepping out of them, already fully hard for her again, and leaned completely over her, large hand sliding up the side of her neck and into her hair. She wet her lips, his face so close to hers that the motion nearly touched him.

“Well then I’d probably have to teach you a lesson about being careful what you wish for.” He dragged his cock through her folds and they each let out a hiss, blood pounding in his ears.

“God, please. Teach me a lesson, Max.” There was no grace left in her raked over plea, no shame, no guilt, no hesitation. All she had left was the desperate pull towards him and the way the feel of him was lighting her up from the inside.

“If you insist…” but he kept up the teasing drag through her folds, tip of his cock nudging against her entrance more than once before delving back through her folds. He ground the crown into her clit and she squirmed on the bed.

“Maaaaaax. Don’t tease.” But she watched the wicked smirk that curled around his face as he circled around her.

“And why shouldn’t I? You’ve been teasing me for seven months now. Seems only fair.” He slipped down to prod at her entrance, then dragged back up through her folds, and she squirmed. “I should strap you to the headboard with my belt and tease you until you’re crying, begging for my cock.” Without a warning, his hand came down with a sharp slap to her swollen cunt. Riley squealed, her hands grasping desperately at the sheets to dispel the sting that was radiating through her. Then his strong grip wrapped around her hips, lifting them so he was level with her, soothing the tip back against the ache in her core. “Luckily for you, I don’t have the patience for that.”

And before she could even start to formulate a response, he slipped down and slammed in to the hilt, supporting the way her back arched. He stilled, completely buried inside, his cock twitching at the familiar warmth, and her legs wound around his waist. Holding her hips still, he slid out to the tip, then all the way back in, watching her fingers curl in the sheets beneath her with a cry. Her walls clenched tight around him and he couldn’t hold back another second, quickly slipping into an aggressive pace. He’d missed it too much and he needed to be drowning in that feeling right that instant. His hands on her hips slid down her thighs, urging her legs up onto his shoulders.

Riley’s moans filled the room and she couldn’t be bothered to contain them. It didn’t matter that just below them was an entire dance floor of strangers, her boyfriend, and her boyfriends boss. It didn’t matter that Max didn’t lock the door or that her boyfriend was certain to be done dancing by now. Or that the party was probably winding to a close soon. She was lost to him and, at this point, didn’t want to be found. She could have disappeared into him forever in that moment and only been grateful.

So when he leaned down between her legs, stretching them back, to pull her into a blistering kiss, she let it wash her away. Her leg slipped off one shoulder as their kiss deepened and his cock drove harder into her. Their moans spilled out between kisses and pressure quickly mounted in her belly.

“Fuck, Max, please! Harder, fuck!” Her cries were practically incoherent as her hammered into her. She buried her fingers in his hair, tugging as he shifted his hips to drive into the perfect spot.

“You gonna come for me already, Ry? You been missin’ the way my cock makes you fall apart?” He let her other leg fall from his shoulder, one hand tangling in her hair as the other gripped tight on her face, holding her just a breath from his own. She nodded, mouth gaped open as she hurtled toward her breaking point. Max could feel her fluttering around him and raked his teeth over her bottom lip before steeling his breath and pulling out completely. Her taut body deflated beneath him, pussy clenching around nothing, desperate for the release it had been deprived of. “Too bad. Flip over.” He swatted her ass from below, taking a full step back, waiting for her stop blinking back at him and flip to her stomach.

The moment she finally gathered her brain back enough to move, he was back pressed against her from behind, hands squeezing brutally into her hips. His hand slid up her back until they met the edge of her bra and he deftly unhooked it before urging the straps off her shoulders. Riley sighed into the mattress as his rough hands rubbed up and down her spine, squirming slightly with the tickle. His fingers wormed into her hair before curling up tight and yanking back. She let out a breath of a moan, back arching to reduce the pull on her hair, and his other arm wound up her bare chest, holding her flush against his chest. His lips scattered kisses across her neck before landing by her ear, his breath raising goosebumps all down her spine.

“You’re looking pretty undressed to me now, brat.” He hissed into her ear, the hand in her hair drifting down to settle around her throat, and she rocked back against him. She hummed an agreement as his foot nudged her legs further apart. “Got any more doubts about how well I know this body that you’d like to voice?” He bent his knees, angling his hips so he notched against her entrance again, and he squeezed the sides of her throat for emphasis. She shook her head. “No? Nothing to say now? Mm, that’s what I thought.” Without another moment, he speared up into her and she cried out, hands flying back to grip in his hair.

He re-started with a punishing pace, impaling her with his cock and stretching her to her limit. Her nails dug into his skin, holding on the best she could as he decimated her senses. He kneaded her chest with the hand that wasn't wrapped tight around her throat. The wracked cries that were spilling from her lips drove him harder.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you this good?" Max snarled against her ear. All she could manage was a squeak of his name. "Does he stretch your tight little cunt like he was made for you?" The way she pulsed around him was plenty answer but he wasn't satisfied. Releasing his grip on her throat, he shoved her face back down into the mattress, raking his nails down her back before he took hold of her hips and hammered into her from behind. "Does he fuck you til there's not a single thought left in this pretty head?"

Riley bit down into the mattress to stifle her moans as they spiraled out of control. His hand collided with her ass with a sound that reverberated around the room and sent a red hot sting straight to her core. She jolted with the force of it but he quickly fired off another three slaps to the rapidly forming welts and she gripped the sheets, tangling them between her fingers. He soothed a palm over the angry skin, his thrusts slower and more purposeful, allowing her catch her breath before he wound back to deliver a slap so sharp it made her knees buckle and her walls pulse around him.

"Shit! Max!" She screamed into the blankets, muffled and broken as she tried to meet his thrusts but her legs were shaking too hard to move the way she wanted. The edges of her vision began to blur, pressure building low in her gut. "Please, fuck, more more more, please, daddy i'm so close." Max leaned down over her, hand slipping between her hips and the mattress until he landed on her swollen bundle of nerves. He drew rapid circles over her and she panted beneath him, the weight of his body draped over her intoxicating, his scent familiar and electrifying every last nerves in her body.

"Yeah? You wanna come, baby? You wanna soak this fucking cock?" His hoarse whisper in her ear was stripping away the last shred of control she had. Every bit of her skin was tingling, flushed and barely her own.

"Please, Max, please I need it please let me come." The battered voice that came out felt completely alien, a sound that was merely reflexive as her brain was ten miles outside the atmosphere.

"Not yet." He said, and she came crash landing back to Earth when he pulled out completely without warning, stepping back, her body shaking from the loss.

“Maaaaaax, fuck!” She whined, squirming against the mattress, desperate for the last bit of friction she needed. Max stilled her with a slap to the furiously red skin on her ass. He took another step away and reached down to unbutton his shirt. Riley dragged her exhausted body up into the bed and rolled onto her back. “You’re killing me. Why do you hate me so much?” She pouted and Max mirrored her, letting his shirt drop to the floor before stalking towards her.

“Aww, come on sweetheart, you know you’re my favorite girl.” He climbed up onto the mattress after her and she scooted her way back toward the pillows. Stalking after her, she settled into the soft bedding, her legs drifting apart as he nestled between them, pulling her straight into a languorous kiss. After getting lost for a few moments, she pulled back starry eyed.

“Better than Samantha?” And she tried unsuccessfully to hide the jealousy in her voice. Max stroked a knuckle over her cheek, supporting his weight with his other arm.

“Better than anyone, Riley.” He held her gaze for a few lingering seconds in a way that told a story of a million years of things left unsaid. But it was too big and this wasn't the time for it, so instead he kissed her until she was breathless, then slid back inside her warmth. Her lips parted in a gasp, allowing his tongue to sweep into her mouth, and her arms wound tight around his torso. He rolled his hips in slow, steady thrusts and her fingers dug into his skin, legs snaking around him. Her nails grazed up into his hair and his head lolled into it, inadvertently picking up his pace when she tugged. Shuttering a sigh, his lips trailed down her neck, nestling his face into her. "Fuck, I've missed you."

"I missed you too." The words fell breathless from her lips as Max sucked hard at her throat, sure to leave another mark that her brain wasn't functional enough to find a problem with. Her nails raked from his hair, down the length of his back, raising a series of red lines in their wake, and he groaned, hips moving a little sharper and starting a low building pressure that spanned the length of her body. As his hips built toward a snap, the pressure rose steadily, echoing in her veins. "Fuck, Max..."

"That's it, beautiful, feel good to be back where you belong?" He whispered against her collarbone before sucking another mark into her skin. Rocking into her, he dragged his hips to create friction over her clit and she arched beneath him. Her hips chased his and he wound an arm around her back, the other moving to her ass, gripping her tight as he rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. The pressure in her bobbed with the change, arms coming out to support herself but he quickly gathered her wrists together, pinning them against her back and plastering her against him. Holding her steady, he set a less forgiving pace, hammering into her from below. “Do you think your boyfriend knew you were always gonna end up right back here?” He demanded, the new position stroking against just the right spot inside her.

She buried her face into the crook of his neck, biting down hard as he fucked up into her, the mounting pressure of this evening expanding into every last nook and cranny of her body until her brain was forced out completely. Her moans filled the room, even muffled by his neck, but the stream of pleaded words was all together unintelligible. But Max didn't need to hear any real words to understand the way her walls were beginning to pulse around him. She was close and well beyond self control, but he wasn't ready to be done and he knew that if she came right now, he wouldn't be able to last.

"Don't come yet." It was a base growl, pulled between strained teeth, and it only made her toes curl. She let out a hitched whimper, bouncing against him with every rapid fire thrust. Every muscle in her body tensed in an attempt to hold the line but she could feel the tide of her body receding from the shore with a magnetic pull, building into the monster tsunami that was headed straight for her. Her body trembled against his, walls constricting around him, only getting worse when his free hand collided with her ass. "Not yet." But he couldn't stop the violent pace he'd set, caught up in the pull of her tide. Tears streamed down her face unconsciously, blurring her mascara and a hiccup of a cry wracked through her chest.

"Max, please, I can't take it, please let me come, pleeeease, don't stop. I need you, please." The wave was rushing at her faster than she could contain, fingers dug into her palms as she fought his grip fruitlessly. Max felt his balls constrict with the desperation in her voice, and pulled her forehead to his with a hand on the back of her head. He held her gaze, fingers wrapped in her hair so close to the scalp that it stung.

"Admit it was about me." He hissed, a breath away from her lips that were hung open in a noiseless cry. "Admit you only started dating him to make me jealous and I'll let you come." And this time she didn't hesitate because this time she couldn't even seem to remember her boyfriend's name.

"Yes, fuck, it was you, Max!" She cried out, brain puttering to get to where she needed as pinpricks swept her skin. "It was about you. I was making you jealous, I didn't fucking care about him, fuck, please, please let me come, please!" And his head knew it didn't matter - that she would have said anything to get what she needed at that moment - but his body didn't seem to know the difference, hips stuttering as he pulled her into a needy, possessive kiss, the tidal wave looming over both their heads.

"Come for me, Riley. Soak this cock for me, let me feel how much you missed this." It was a demand that Riley didn't need to wait another second for, wave crashing down onto their shores and knocking them both off their feet. They clung to each other, sweating and shaking, as her walls squeezed tight around him, her high pitched, wrecked cry a noise that he would never forget as she flooded his cock. His hips jerked, riding out the last few loaded seconds, his nails dug into her skin before he snapped, burying himself as deep as he could go, his hot release spilling inside her.

They writhed against each other, savoring the breathless hum that had enveloped them, their bodies weak and energy spent. Max slowly released his grip on her hands, hand on the back of her head pulling her just an inch closer so he could brush the sweat matted hair out of her face and press a kiss to the top of her head. She let out a contented sigh, settling into his warmth while her brain navigated its way back to her from outer space. His fingers trailed hypnotically up and down her spine, raising goosebumps across her skin. He never wanted to move from that spot, the need to keep her that close forever was staggering and, frankly, a little scary.

He didn't know what came next - this was uncharted territory. But she still had a boyfriend and that made this a little rockier than the usual transition from boyfriend back into his arms. He could feel the ominous shifting in their lives that came from their choices tonight and not all the potential outcomes were favorable for him. The chances that she would regret this suddenly felt suffocatingly high as he realized what a colossal mess he had made. He never meant to get that carried away tonight. His heart leapt to his throat as she finally lifted her exhausted body off him, rolling to sit on the edge of the bed, leaving him feeling particularly cold.

"Where do you think you're going, punk?" He leaned forward to grab her hand but slowed when he saw the hollow look on her face. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. She quickly turned away from him but he surged forward, forcing her to look at him. "Hey, Ry..." She slowly met his eyes, chewing her lip as reality seemed to crash down around her. His chest ached, watching the thoughts whirling around her mind, and pulled her back against his chest. Melting into him, she let his arms squeeze tight around her, her head tucked beneath his chin, and she closed her eyes.

She couldn't pretend she hadn't known exactly what she was doing. There was no defense. She had made a million calculated decisions, right down to a skimpy red dress, and it had made her feel spectacularly alive but now all she felt was numb. What was she supposed to do now? Her stomach turned at the thought of trying to keep this from Jonah. Then it turned again at the thought of telling Max she was going to pretend this never happened. His hand soothed over her back and she drew in a shaky breath.

"Look, don't beat yourself up, alright. He's not exactly a great guy..." He offered but she scoffed, stilling in his arms.

"Please don't..."

"Well, I mean he told me I should take you for a spin so he could - "

"Max-"

"I'm just saying, he's - "

"Well stop." She finally tore out of his arms, clambering off the bed. Max watched her scrub her hands over her face, struck. Then she set back about finding her clothes, scattered across the floor. The guilt that ripped through her stomach was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Gathering her clothes up into her arms, she finally she met his eye. "Please, just knock it off. It's not Jonah's fault that I..." She blew out a breath and shook her head.

"Riley..." Max held a hand out to her but she only took a step back. Her lips twitched before she steeled her face and pulled it into a carefully trained expression that she prayed didn't give the impression that she wanted to cry. This was what she choose; she didn't get to cry about it. But she was feeling a few too many emotions at once and it was knocking the air out of her chest.

"It's fine. Don't look at me like that. I'm fine." She busied herself with pulling her bra back on, knowing full well he wasn't going to stop watching her with those same concerned puppy dog eyes.

"Then where are you going? Come on." He moved up onto his knees at the edge of the bed, trying to lure her back but she didn't glance his way as she pulled that same tight dress back over her body, panties in tatters on the floor. She traced a finger over the rips in her tights that were now visible down below her dress and swallowed hard.

"To deal with the party that's going on in my living room." She said it like a reminder and but Max didn't falter.

"Screw them, stay here with me. Riley, please, it's been a long night, just come to bed." And his extended hand was mightily tempting. She hesitated for just a moment, weighing him before her eyes flicked to the door and she shook her head.

"No. No, I need to go." She said, eyes doing a final sweep of the floor to make sure she hadn't missed anything but then snapped back to meet his. "Besides, you have a date you should probably say goodnight to." His chest constricted at the pain in her voice; pain that he caused.

"Riley-"

"Please," She practically begged and he sat back on his heels, "I just need a minute. Stay here tonight if you want, I know its late." Swallowing hard, she waited to see if he pushed back but when he didn't she plowed through. "We can talk tomorrow. I just need to think, okay?" Deflated, Max nodded, brow knitted with a tight frown. She offered a smile so slight he almost didn't catch it before taking a few decided steps towards him. "Thank you. I promise, we're good, I just..."

"...Need time to think. I get it," He finished for her, letting the frown crack, "Just can't think straight with me around." Rolling his eyes at his own joke, he watched the gentle smile settle over her face. Leaning in, she gave him a quick, apologetic kiss before backing her way towards the door. He waved her off and she lingered for just a moment, bracing herself for the world beyond this door.

Max geared up to make one final attempt at convincing her to stay but in a blink, she slipped out the door and left him to the quiet. With a huff, he threw himself back on the mattress. He scrubbed his hands over his face and raked them back into his hair with a groan. Timing was his greatest enemy and he was tired of feeling like he was losing the battle.

Finally collapsing into her bed, Riley pulled a pillow over her face, nearly ready to suffocate under the weight of her life and bad decision making. She had finally managed to usher the crowd of strangers out of her living room and tucked Jonah in under a blanket on her couch where he had passed out cold. Grateful for the quiet solitude of her room, she slowly pulled the pillow off her face and took a deep breath.

The ground beneath her felt like it was moving and, as much as she had desperately wanted change for her life, this was never how she wanted to get it. Her chest rose and fell was steady breaths and she stared up at texture on her ceiling, tracing invisible patterns and trying to pretend she didn't need to make a painful decision. She wasn't sure how to make that decision when she didn't know what she wanted, though.

But that wasn't entirely true. Her chest ached, the truth ringing through her skull, blaring an unwanted siren she couldn't stomach. She knew exactly what she wanted. She knew exactly where she wanted to be and who she wanted next to her but that wasn't something she could have. Max was her best friend and maybe he was more but none of it amounted to anything because he didn't want her like that. She knew he cared about her but she also knew that this game they played was all he could offer. The thought turned her stomach and she squeezed her eyes shut, curling onto her side in the middle of her empty bed.

The pain radiating in her chest was strong enough to start the sting behind her eyes but she refused to let the tears come. Instead, she pulled the blanket up tight to her chin and bit down hard on her lip until the feeling subsided. She didn't have time to devolve over that. When she woke up in the morning, she was going to have to face the consequences of all the lines crossed tonight and she needed to know what that looked like. So she spent the night, tossing and turning and stewing in her guilt and self pity, praying that by tomorrow night, her life would look different. It had to. There was no turning back now.

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Beta Read by @daddyhausen

Tags: @fvckingromantic @omg-im-such-a-masochist @smallestsnarkestgirl @wrestlingwhore

#MJF smut #MJF fanfiction #MJF fanfic #AEW fic #AEW fanfiction #wrestling fic #AEW smut #MJF x OFC #mjf x reader

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