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#kenny omega x female reader
magicalbuttertarts · 1 month
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Id love to request female reader x the elite (bucks and kenny) from the promt list with humiliation
Ps i love your writing!
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Humiliated (18+)
The Young Bucks x f/Reader x Kenny Omega
E9: Humiliation
Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.
Warnings: Smut under the cut. Erotic humiliation aka Humiliation Kink. Slapping. Spitting. Choking. DP anal. P in v. Unprotected sex.
Requested by @adamcolesbaybay. Thank you for loving my work
WC: 688
©️ magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.
Nick's hand was wrapped around her throat as Kenny was fucking her throat. Nick could feel the shape of his cock, and Matt had her legs thrown over her shoulders as he fucked her as hard and fast as he could.
Her body was already overstimulated with how they keep pulling back just as she was about to cum.
"No,no,no. You don't get to cum yet. Not until you are filled with us or we have our fill of you. What ever happens first." Kenny had said just before he shoved his cock down her throat.
Her body was already covered with their cum and their spit. Her throat sore from how long each of them have fucked her throat for.
Kenny was mutter degrading names under his breath as he got closer and closer to finishing in her mouth once more.
"Cum guzzler."
"Fuckin' bitch."
"Dumb whore."
And that seemed to turn her on even more, if that was possible.
Her eyes closed just as Kenny gripped her hair, thrusting in her mouth one last time as he stilled, as his cum filled her mouth, but she didn't dare swallow.
Not without being told to.
Kenny pulled out of her mouth, and cum dribbled out of the corners of her mouth. Nick told her to look at him, which she did.
"Open your mouth." Nick demanded.
She did, and the three of them groaned in unison at the sight of Kenny's cum still in her mouth.
Nick gripped her chin, and spit in her mouth.
He turned her face to look at Matt, and he spint in her mouth as well, as he continued to fuck her.
Kenny shook his head, indicating that he wasn't going to spit.
"Swallow it, now." Matt demanded, and she did swallow it on a few gulps, as there was just so much.
Kenny slapped her clit, making her cry out in a bit of pain, trying to close her legs and push Matt away.
"Don't even think about it." Matt grunted as he pushed her legs even further apart.
She didn't say her safe word, and the four of them kept going.
Her body was sore as she sandwiched between Nick and Kenny.
Nick was behind her, buried in her ass, as Kenny was laying below her, his cock nestled in her pussy, not having to move as was savouring the feeling of her walls clenching his cock.
Matt was laying next to them taking a breather as he watched his brother and best friend fuck her.
Nick suddenly stilled, forcing a whine from her cum coated mouth.
"Move for me." He demanded, and she was so fucked out of her mind, she didn't do it.
Nick slapped her ass, hard. "I said move bitch."
She started to move as best as she could.
"Is that all you can do?" Kenny scoffed, but didn't do anything to help her.
The three of them watched her fuck herself on two cocks.
This all became to much for Matt, he stood up on the bed, holding her head as he quickly jerked himself off as she opened her mouth.
Matt came, covering her face, telling her that she can't clean it yet as she continued fuck herself upon their cocks.
Her mouth was still open, and her eyes were closed.
"Shut your whore mouth, cumslut."
Matt said as he slapped his softening cock against her cheek.
Nick groaned out her name, his mouth falling open as he came, his cum filling her ass.
Kenny, not being able to take how tight her pussy was clenching around him, grabbed her hips and start to thrust up.
"Cum, cum now!" Matt demanded, and she screamed out their names, her body shaking atop of Kenny, as Nick pulled out of her ass, his cum slowly leaking onto the cum covered sheets below.
Kenny fucked her through the most intense orgasm of her life, and she even blacked out a bit, as she collapsed against his chest, her body still shaking.
Kenny came, him grunting her name as he filled her pussy with his cum.
Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @madhatterbri @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell
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theeliteedits · 1 year
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Obsessed with this song
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spine-buster · 1 year
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portofino ft. kenny omega
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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. 
191 notes · View notes
racerchix21 · 2 years
Note
Fic Request:
Nick Jackson x Reader, fluff. If you're comfortable with the idea: reader has chronic illness and in a flair up and Nick's taking care of her.
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Pairing: Nick Jackson x Reader
Word count: 689
* I know this is super short but I promise as I get more confident in my Nick Jackson writing I’ll add more to it or write you something else Nick related 🖤❤️ Also hopefully close to what you were wanting
Work Text:
Pulling up in from of the house he shares with his girlfriend, Nick notes immediately that all the curtains are closed and his instincts tell him something is wrong. He quickly rushes to the door and only takes a second to make sure the car is locked before going inside to find his girl.
“Baby, I’m home and Kenny and Matt sent you some stuff since you couldn’t come with us this week,” Nick calls out and he’s met with nothing but silence, “Princess where are you?”
Glancing into the kitchen and living room on his way to the stairs and their bedroom. Halfway up, he can see that their door is cracked and when Nick finally peeks in he can see a lump in the middle of the bed under multiple blankets.
“Hey, sweetie can I join in this little snuggle fest,” Nick jokingly asks lifting up the corner of the little blanket cocoon laughing when he’s met with a squawk of indignation. The laughter quickly dies in his throat when he realizes how miserable his love looks, “baby why didn’t you call one of us? The boys woulda understood if I needed to get home right away. No matter I’ve got just the solution to help.”
“Nicky, wait a minute. I didn’t call cuz I didn’t wanna distract you and the guys from going and kickin some ass. I’m sorry.
“I’ll be right back and then we’re gonna snuggle up and I’ll see what I can do to make this flare up just a little more bearable, okay?”
Pulling his phone out, Nick sends a quick text to Kenny and Matt before going about collecting everything else he needs. The Nick Jackson Cure Kit consisted of:
- Fuzzy blankets
- Fuzzier socks
- Hoodies (preferably one of his but the one Kenny left at one point works too)
- Ibuprofen or Tylenol
- The candy and popcorn that Matt and Kenny were grabbing
- An assortment of movies
- And ALL THE SNUGGLES
Walking back into the bedroom with all the fuzzy blankets, it finally hits him to ask if there’s anything else she might want before flitting back out the door when the doorbell rings. Nick says turning for a second see his girl peeking over the blanket pile, “baby I’ll be right back. I asked if Matt and Kenny could go grab some stuff for us for the rest of the weekend.”
“K. And Nicky tell-’em I said thank you.”
“Will do baby,” Nick says as the doorbell begins to be aggressively hit, getting louder and louder the closer he gets to the door making him cringe. “What is wrong with you two? She’s not feeling good and you’re down here like madmen playing with the doorbell.”
“Flare up? Or at least I’m assuming it’s a bad flare up or you wouldn’t have texted us to go get this stuff,” Kenny says handing off the bag of stuff he got per Nick’s instructions.
“Yeah and the last time she had one this bad she got upset when I left to pick stuff up. She doesn’t like to be alone when flare ups happen if she can help it.”
“Well give her our love and if either of you need anything, call us,” Matt says pulling Nick into a hug then handing off his own bag of goodies as they turn to leave.
“Hey by the way thank you guys for being willing to do this for her.”
“She’s one of ours. She’s family Nick and we’d do anything to help her you know that,” Kenny says, ���now go take care of your girl and we’ll call you later to check in.”
Heading back inside, he’s met by a blanket clad figure at the top of the stairs and has to laugh cuz trust his girl to try and catch a peek of Matt and Kenny. She might be Nicks girl but she loves those 2 like brothers. “Back to bed, I’ll be up in a minute with all the goodies.”
“Love you Nick,” she murmurs turning around and pulling her blanket cape even tighter around her body.
“Love you too baby.”
38 notes · View notes
daddyhausen · 1 year
Text
commission for : @switchbabeeexo
• backstage heat — kenny omega •
.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
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.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
{ masterlist } | { aew masterlist } | { kenny omega masterlist }
.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
{ commission info } | { like my work? buy me a coffee <3 }
{ summary } — how on earth did you hatred for each other turn into well… whatever this is?
{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, hatefucking, semi public sex, oral sex { male receiving }, throat fucking, choking, face slapping, throat pie, multiple orgasms, teasing, vaginal sex, rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, male + female orgasms, vaginal creampie, internal cumshot, squirting
{ word count } — 1.4k
{ pairing } — fem!reader x kenny omega
{ genre } — smut
{ taglist } — @cosmoholic13 @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @adamjf @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @elsteenerico @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk
{ beta readers } — @allelitesmut + @legit9thlunaticwarrior
{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }
.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
{ 40 } — you’re more than just a one night stand
{ 58 } — you have no idea how much i want you
.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
you could feel him looming behind you
his presence an ever growing shadow that could not seem to lose
his gaze fixated on your figure
only a mere few steps behind you which in turn made you increase your speed
“where you going girly, i just wanna talk”
kenny’s voice lingered in your ears with the echo of the area hallway
“leave me alone, omega. how many times do i gotta fucking tell you?”
you spat words like venom, acidic to his ears
kenny was taken aback with faux shock at your demeanor, despite having witnessed it many a times before hand
“ooh, a feisty one. you got some bite to you, don’t you princess?”
“get lost, you prick!”
you managed to take sanctuary in a nearby storage room
swinging the door open, managing to squeeze yourself in just as his hand caught the door before it closed
“oh come on what will it take for you to leave me alone!?”
your back pressed against the door, trying to shove him out and at least gain a second of peace
“well, i can think of one thing”
kenny’s strength proved too much for you to handle
him having effortlessly pushed his way past you, and into the storage room
his body now barricading you against the door
your body trapped between his arms, his palms either side of your head
“oh hell no-“
“c’mon sweetheart, you know you want me”
“i’d rather fuck one of the bucks-“
your contempt for kenny and the bucks was well documented
their constant torment over the years, seemingly for no apparent reason other than to stir your emotions
it’s a surprise how you haven’t lost your sanity
kenny paused for a second, a small chuckle leaving his lips
“you and i both know that i’m a better fuck than both of them combined”
kenny leaned in, his breath tickling your earlobe on small wisps
his voice low, almost guttural, a soft rasp etched into his words
a sound that made your belly swirl with contempt
and more concerningly lust, arousal
it made your thighs clench together instinctively
your knees weak and mind in a daze
you hated him as he did you, you should not be getting so overwhelmed by this
“go to hell” you managed to seethe through gritted teeth
the blush evident and warm on your cheeks as kenny remained close
“oh princess, if i go, you’re coming with me”
his lips now present against your earlobe, lips barely feathering the skin
his cock hard, pressed up against your inner thigh through the loose fabric of his gym shorts
feeling him throb against you
“don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. i know you’ve thought about me, about how good i could fuck you…”
kenny’s words echoed in your ears sinfully
no matter how much you tried to ignore his persistence
you could not deny how incredibly wet you had become
“i bet you touch yourself while thinking of me”
the blush increased, heat practically radiating off your cheeks
you tried to push him away, though the arousal thrumming through you kept your knees weak and unstable
instead opting for a harsh slap to his cheek
an act which completely left him unfazed
he did not even flinch
“ooh i struck a nerve there didn’t i?”
kenny let a hand fall from beside your face, smoothing down the length of your body before resting on your hip
his thumb looped in the belt buckle of your jeans
“you don’t know shit about me”
“oh really?”
he questioned, unbuttoning your jeans with one hand
you did not protest despite your hatred
he slipped his hand into your jeans, beneath your panties
fingers dancing across your soaked folds, teasing your clit
“then how come you’re so wet for me?”
you could not deny it at this point, it would be incredibly stupid to do so
the way his fingers teased you, toying with you with such ease
a small whimper left your lips, one that he easily caught
“don’t deny the way i make you feel, sweetheart”
you hummed at the feeling of his fingers, only for him to pry them from your void
your sweetness dripped from his fingertips as he licked them clean.
“fuck it”, you thought. you were gonna end up fucking anyway.
you might as well be the first to fully initiate
at least he’d leave you alone after this
dropping to your knees with haste
and much to his surprise, he let you continue
your hands reaching up, prying down the waistband of his gym shorts and freeing his cock
a small groan of pleasure ripped through his throat as you began to give little kitten licks to his tip
“i knew you’d come around eventually” kenny’s playful remark was met with malice on your end
“shut the fuck up im only doing this so you leave me alone”
“sure, whatever you say, princess”
you took him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks so the process would be over quicker
kenny’s hand fell to the back of your head, pushing you further onto his cock so that his tip would be comfortably nestled in the back of your throat
comfortable for him at least
“you have no idea how much i want you…” kenny mumbled under his breath with the hopes that you did not hear
you did, only increasing the heat in your cheeks
his hand locked in your hair, keeping you still as his hips began to buck
effectively fucking your throat with ease
this was not supposed to feel as good as it did.
you could not believe how you managed to stoop so low as to fucking your enemy
“god, never thought you’d look so pretty choking on my cock”
your eyes were not keeping contact with his
instead, rolled back on your skull from the sheer force of his cock
spit pooled in the corners of your lips
a glossy sheen across the length of his cock
now dripping down your chin
“oh fuck-“ kenny grunted
holding your head firmly against his hips
your nose nestled in the neatly trimmed mound of pubic hair
as he emptied hot ropes of cum down your throat
feeling the residual throb of his cock against your tongue as he pulled out
you gasped for air, finally able to breathe
still feeling his warmth linger on your tastebuds
he was quick to pull you up by the hair
turning you around so that your face was pressed against the door
his still aching cock grinding against your clothed ass
his movements were swift
his hands now, tugging down your jeans, letting them sit mid thigh before moving onto your panties
“be a good little whore and take every inch of me”
he gave no warning when he was about to enter
and no time given for you to adjust to his size
kenny began his movements with quick, rough thrusts
filling your cunt deep with each movements
“fuck you-“ you seethed through a moan
“sweetheart, you are” he smirked into the crook of your neck
free hand coming up to wrap around your throat
“i’m the only man who fucks you this good. i know you hate to admit it but you love the feeling of my cock, don’t you”
you gave in, succumbing to the pleasure his cock provided with a small nod
“y-yes…” you stuttered, cringing internally at your words
“what was that princess, i didn’t quite catch that?”
“yes, fuck- your cock feels so good”
kenny pressed himself further into you, holding his positioning for a moment to pepper small kisses to your jawline
“good girl, such an obedient little thing”
your thighs began to shake
having to press yourself back against him to stablize yourself
your whines and whimpers flooded kenny’s senses
only fueling the arousal that burned through him
“you’re so fucking close i can feel it”
he began to increase his speed
“cum around my cock, i wanna feel it, sweetheart. make a fucking mess”
“kenny please…”
you cried out through choked moans
spilling around his cock without warning, much to his amusement
he was quick to follow suit, his seed filling you up so deliciously, dripping onto your panties as he pulled out of you
kenny stuffed his cock back into his shorts with haste
quickly pulling your panties and jeans back up
feeling the warmth of his cum radiate against your overstimulated cunt
“kenny?” you hummed, trying to regain your breath
he gave a soft hum in acknowledgment
“i uh…i don’t want this to be a one night stand type of thing…y’know?”
you stammered over your words and your newfound adoration of the man.
“sweetheart…” he began, the nickname he’d been using sounded ridiculously foreign given the context
“you’re more than a one night stand”
.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
287 notes · View notes
thesupreme316 · 1 year
Note
i have another request it goes to my other one about you getting injured how about aew boys reaction to you returning after getting injured 🫶🏼🫶🏼
AEW Stars React to: You Returning From Injury (Part 2/Standalone)
Pairings: Hook x Reader, Eddie Kingston x Reader, MJF x Reader, Dante Martin x Reader, Kenny Omega x Reader, Daniel Garcia x Reader, Ricky Starks x Reader
Word Count: 957
Supreme Speaks: heyyy, this was supposed to be out sooner but my internet cut out and my shit erased (not my bad but my bad). thank you @cassiesworldsworld for requesting a part two and for supporting me. I shall upload tomorrow as well. I hope everyone is having a great day and please know that you are appreciated and loved.
Warnings: not proofread (just grammarly), reader pronouns are not specified (gender-neutral)
Taglist: @cassiesworldsworld @wwenhlimagines @triscillal @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey
Link to Part 1
Your return:
After being out for 1 1/2 months, you were finally given the green light to return to the ring
Even though it was less than 2 months, it felt like two years of being away from the ring
Arriving at the arena, you decide to surprise everyone; so you went straight to a private locker and changed into your gear
For your return, you either run out and help a talent going against the Outcasts or a heel tag team (think of Willow helping Skye Blue or Rodrick Strong helping Adam Cole)
Or you answer an open challenge from a person (male or female) and win the match to the crowd cheering and chanting your name (or make up your own, it’s your world)
When you get backstage, you were met with a smile from your boyfriend and or best friend
Dante Martin:
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AGAIN THIS MAN IS A BABY
He’s feelin a bit bittersweet
It was nice to have someone with him while he was on the shelf; he didn’t feel lonely
But now he feels like gonna be back to square 1
Until you ran up and gave him a big hug (still being mindful of his leg)
You let him know that he never getting rid of you and you’ll always be his person
He smiles and says “Well 1 1/2 person is better than just 1” (get it? Cause he’s still injured so he’s the 1/2 per-)
Posts you on Instagram saying how proud he is of you
Hook:
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Mans smiling from ear to ear backstage
Gladly picks you up while hugging you
“You’re gonna kill it. I know it”
Still keeps asking you how you feel about your shoulder
Mans wouldn’t say anything to anyone, but everyone could see how happy he is
I think depending on how your return goes, he would go out and establish an on-screen “friendship”
Would definitely celebrate with you afterward
Like Dante, he would definitely post a picture of you in his signature black-and-white scheme
MJF:
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Posts a tweet confirming your return even though you didn’t tell him (he bribed the doctor to tell him the news)
Cuts a promo and references you
“My best friend/significant other is back, better than ever, better than you, and you know it.”
Will take all the credit for you getting better (to which you throw a shoe at him)
After congratulating you for making your return, he goes right back to roasting you on Twitter and on commentary
Is just pleased that you’re in a healthy position
Is very happy that you’re back and will try to figure out how to get you two in a storyline
If you say no, he will start some drama (will take back the scarf he made)
Eddie Kingston:
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Is EXCITED to see you back; again runs around with his head cut off
Makes a small tweet about you
“Hey @Y/N, nice to see you back…now pay me for taking care of your fragile ass dawg.”
Will still be careful when imitating physical contact (hugs and etc.)
Continues to do almost everything for you out of habit
But he'll say it's because you're still depend it on him (to which you hit up side his head)
Like MJF, he will reference you in a promo (but will actually praise you for your durability and fearlessness)
Playfully will hold this over your head and says that you owe him if he gets injured
Ricky Starks:
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You couldn’t keep the secret and told him that you were returning the minute you found out
Somehow, he managed to pull strings to get you involved with his storyline
He says it’s because he really just wanna work with you
But you know it’s because he wants to keep an eye on you (and to get even closer to you)
“It’s because you’re a child and I need to look after you.”
Still has a lot of your stuff on standby just in case something happens (always check on you to make sure that you’re comfortable)
Hangs your bedazzled cast/brace up in your living room
Daniel Garcia:
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Daniel had a match after your return match/segment
MANS WAS DANCING IN THE RING TO CELEBRATE
And dancing at the club (just look at Isiah’s last vlog)
Will drag you on what he calls a “comeback tour”; and if you thought he was acting up when you were injured, wait until now
“Dude, it’s only 2 AM…why are you trying to go to sleep?” “-_-“
Is happy that you’re relationship/friendship was strengthened
Now that you are on the road, you were made his permanent road buddy (especially with Isiah being out of action)
“Zay, don’t blame me…blame Y/N, they insisted that I replace you because they have no friends”
Kenny Omega:
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(side note; i need another kenny gif cause this one is causing me to gain more feelings for this man)
THIS MAN WOULD BE HAPPIEST TO SAY THE LEAST
When you first appeared and the crowd roared, a smile grew on his face
Was training with you up til you returned (you had to tell him cause essentially he is your boss)
Hugged you tightly and frequently checked up on your shoulder throughout the convo
He’s still scared that you’re not 100 percent
You: Kenny, you don’t need to keep checking on me
Kenny: Yeah, but- I think I see your bone poking through…Are you a zombie?
Will perform your signature move as a nod to your relationship
Does it all with a smile
140 notes · View notes
mystic-story-lover · 2 years
Text
~I'm Saying Yes~
Kenny Omega x Female!reader
Word Count: 783
Warnings: None that I can think of
Type: Angst and Fluff
Summary: Kenny and you constantly fight anymore, and you think it’s time to end your relationship. 
A/N: This is my first ever fic, so I hope you guys enjoy it!
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~~~
The fights weren’t uncommon between the two of you anymore. You couldn’t remember when they really started. Eventually, people backstage started to notice the tension between you and your boyfriend, but only your close friends really said anything. Nine of your closest friends have asked why you fight, but you haven’t had an answer for them. You didn’t know why the fights kept happening, but what you did know was that they’d start over any little thing. 
Tonight was the perfect example.
“How do you just not know Y/n?” Kenny questioned.
“Maybe because it isn’t my job to know! Why don’t you go ask Don since he seems to be more important than me!” You shouted, storming out of his locker room.
This fight started because you didn’t know where he set his jacket at, even though he didn’t tell you himself. Usually, it was kept with the Young Bucks, so long as you didn’t plan on wearing it. Since you two were in Japan though, things didn’t quite go as planned, and you had no idea where it was. He didn’t necessarily blame you, he was just frustrated about losing it, on top of being sore from the past two nights. After a few moments, you knew he’d calm down, but it never seemed to ease the pain of the fighting. Just then, you heard a voice in front of you.
“Y/n, perfect timing. I need you to return this jacket back to Kenny for me.” It was Don. He reached the black jacket to you, but you only shook your head.
“He needs space right now, but you should deliver it.” You sighed bowing your head.
“Another fight?” Don questioned you.
You felt bad about saying that Don was more important to Kenny, but some days it truly felt that way. Don truly cared about the two of you, and as sweet as it was, it hurt every time Kenny made him the priority. 
“Yeah, about that jacket actually.” You chuckled a little, and you heard the door behind you open.
“Babe?” Kenny’s tone was softer now. “I’m sorry about the fight. The jacket doesn’t matter, I just want to fix things with you.” You grabbed the jacket before turning around to see Kenny fiddling with his hands. He did that when he was apologizing. When you asked him about it, he said it was because he becomes nervous that you will still be too mad to speak with him. 
“Actually, it does matter. Don just brought me it.” You sighed before taking a step towards your boyfriend. “But we need to talk Kenny, just you and me.” He nodded, now glancing up at you. His eyes were red and puffy, and you could hear a small sniffle.
“I think I know what you’re going to say.” He whispered.
“Maybe we should go inside.” You state, hoping to prevent a second fight.
“No, that’s okay. We both know that our relationship isn’t exactly working, the fights being the biggest proof of that.” He starts before dragging a hand over his face. “But I don’t want to lose you Y/n. I love you.” 
“I love you too Kenny, and I don’t want to lose you either. But these fights, they’re only hurting us.” Tears begin to fill your eyes, because you don’t want to end things. This is the man you dreamed of spending the rest of your life with.
“So, let’s fix us. We’ll do what it takes to make us work.” He smiles at you and sniffles. “I had a plan for tonight, and this wasn’t exactly it.” You see he glances at Don, but you don’t say anything.
“Kenny what are you talking about?” You ask with a sniffle on your own. 
“Y/n, the reason I was so stressed about looking for that jacket is because I thought I left something in there. But after you left, I basically tore the locker room apart only to find it.” He spoke while dropping down onto one knee. “And maybe you’ll say no, I know that, but I’m going to ask anyway. Y/n, you’re the highlight of my days, and I know we’ve been struggling because of all our fights, but they’ve never lessened my love for you. And I want you to be my wife, so I can spend every day waking up to your beautiful face. Will you marry me?” Kenny questioned, pulling out a black box. He opened it up to reveal a beautiful diamond ring.
“Kenny, I want to be your wife with everything in me.” You sniffle before continuing. “So we’ll just have to work on us because I’m saying yes.”
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theworldofotps · 10 months
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hi may i be added to your tag list? also i'd love to request kenny omega x female reader (y/n) if you could make her plus size that would be amazing but if not i understand! <33 thank you!!
the idea i had in mind is reader was working for the don callis family and started to develop a crush on kenny, but don forbid the two from seeing each other. no matter how long reader and kenny were apart they always found a way. maybe a lil' smut but also cutesy stuff?
with the prompts - ❛ you steady me and stir me all at once. ❜ , ❛ they’re teaching me to kill, but who’s teaching me to love? ❜
Hello love! You’re already on my tag list (I had to go and check and you are indeed there 😊)
I absolutely would love to write plus size reader for you of course!
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ms-rampage · 3 years
Text
And New!
Kenny Omega x Fem Reader (Y/n) [18+ONLY]
Warnings: Language, some fluff, smut
Word count: 1.2k (I think)
Based off on Kenny's match from Rebellion (spoliers?? Maybe!)
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You were watching his match backstage, sitting in the dressing room. Sitting at the edge of your seat, your knee shaking. Watching closely and Audrey Edwards counted 3 and he won!.
Your longtime boyfriend Kenny Omega won the unified Impact World championship from Rich Swann.
"Yes!" you screamed, jumping out of your seat, "Yes, yes! Oh my god!". Clapping, almost in tears. A huge smile on your face. He was in the ring celebrating with Don Callis and the Good Brothers.
You waited for him to come backstage, when he did, you immediately run into his arms, hugging him tightly. One of the belts hit you on the back as he wraps his arms around you, but you didn't care. You can tell by the tightness of his embrace, he was waiting to hold you in his arms.
"I'm so proud of you!" you tell him, your voice muffled by his shoulder, "I love you".
"I love you too" he responds, kissing the side of your head.
You pull away, and kiss him on the lips. in front of everyone.
Later that evening, you both leave to your hotel. You were feeling a little frisky, you wanted to have some fun with Kenny. 
Have a little celebration, once you both go to your shared room. He went into the shower, and then an idea came to mind, not sure how he would react to it, but you thought of stripping out of your clothes, and use the championship belts to cover your privates. 
But then another came to mind, stripping and wait for him on the bed. The shower shuts off and you quickly strip out of your tank top and shorts, as well as your bra and panties. 
Laying on your stomach, nude on the bed, waiting for Kenny to come out of the bathroom. Patiently waiting for him. Feeling the cool air pass by your butt cheeks, giving your goosebumps.
You hear the door open, and footsteps. You look away, and wait for him to speak up. He sees you laying naked on the bed. 
“Is it my birthday??” he chuckles. You turn to him, a smirk on his face, sitting up on your knees giving him a view of your nakedness, “Well ain’t this a beautiful view”. Placing his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. 
You shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck “I figured we celebrate your big win”. 
He chuckles again, “I like where this is going”.  He pulls you closer and places a kiss on your lips. One of your hands wander down to his boxers, tugging on the elastic band, wanting to pull them down. 
“You’re so desperate aren’t ya?” he teases you. He gently pushes you back onto the bed, and takes off his boxers, exposing his hard on, dripping a bit of pre-cum. He gives himself a few tugs, you bite your lip as he jerks himself making his moan softly. 
He crawls onto the bed, hovering over you, aligning himself with your pussy. Normally he would tease you in many different ways possible, denying you to cum and hsit, but tonight he wants to celebrate his big W with you. 
Full force, he shoves his hard cock in you, not giving you enough to prepare. 
“Oh fuck” you cry out, biting your lip. Making your toes curly. 
“Fuck Y/n, tight pussy as always” he growls, slamming his hips into yours. He grabs your hands, holding them over your head as pounds his cock into you. 
He only needs one hand to hold your hands above your head, the other is holding your hips up off the bed as he fucks you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you.
“Fuck, fuck” you cry, you knew your gonna have bruises later but you didn’t care at all. One thing Kenny loved doing other than his job, his making sure you’re pleasured, and satisfied. 
He loves you to death, he loves that you support him, because you kind have to!. He loves that you can keep up with his busy schedule and restless nights. 
“Fuck” he growls picking up the pace, trying to break you in half at this point. He looks down at you, and sees the faces you’re making as he fucks you senseless. 
Crashing his lips against yours, his hand letting go of your hands, letting you wrap your arms around him. Forcing his tongue in your mouth, moaning as he continues to rearrange your insides.
Your fingers getting tangled in his curly hair. One hand holding your waist up, the other holding the back of your head as he kisses you, moving down to your neck, leaving bites on you. 
“Kenny” you whimper, “I’m-I’m gonna-” you speech is completely inaudible because of him pounding his cock into you. 
“I gotcha baby” he responds, as your pussy squeezes his cock, stretching you out. You feel your whole body go numb, you try screaming but all that came out a pitchy whine from the back of your throat. Your vision goes white and blurry as he fucks you through your first orgasm
Kenny’s groaning and grunting turns animalistic, he knows you’re about to cum, and he’s gonna make sure he continues with his movements and fucks you until you’ve orgasm twice. 
Tears streaming down your face as he continues to pound into you. Making the bed creak underneath you. 
“Fuck, fuck, Kenny” you cry again, rolling you eyes back into your head, “I’m gonna cum!”.
“Cum for me baby” he tells you. Without hesitating you cum, releasing yourself at the same time Kenny releases his hot seed in you. Feeling the ecstasy run through you. 
Placing his forehead against yours as he lays on top of you. The look in his eyes, you knew he wasn’t finished with you. He sits up on his knees, and just like that he flips you onto your stomach. Lifting your ass up in the air. 
“You know where I’m going with this baby” he tells you, his mouth so close to your ear. 
He massages your hole before shoving his cock in you, slamming his hips against yours, pounding you into the mattress. 
You scream into a pillow, as he fucks the shit out of you, pressing his chest against your back, sinking you into the bed. 
“I love you baby” he moans into your ear. You respond back but it was incoherent babbling, but he knew what you said. 
He just loved hearing you speak as he fucked you senseless, knowing that only he can make you resort to incoherent whimpering, babbling and shit. 
“Fuck. Shit, fuck me” you cry, gripping the bed sheets. Tears streaming down your cheeks. 
“I’m already doing that baby” he chuckles, joking with you as he stretches out your abused hole. 
Several powerful thrusts later, he makes you cum again. Pulling your hips up, so your ass is in the air again. Both his hands holding you in place, as he shoves his cock in and out of you. Making you cry out in pleasure, making you scream his name, that you’re pretty sure everyone on the floor can hear you. 
Kenny releases an inhumane groan as he cums in you again, continuing with the same fast pace movements. Making sure he fills you up with his cum. Holding you in place as he slowly removes his cock from your hole. 
You whimper as he pulls out of you. Pushing some of his cum back into you. You roll onto your side, sweaty and breathing heavily. He collapses on top of you, moving your hair away from your face. 
“I’m glad I won tonight” he chuckles, giving you a kiss on the lips. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. 
“I love you” you whisper. “I love you too” he whispers back. Holding you in his arms. 
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magicalbuttertarts · 11 days
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Could I request college professor Kenny Omega and college female student reader are broken up and he’s jealous of the rumors about her dating someone else on campus and it leads to make-up sex?
AEW Masterlist
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Yes Professor (18+)
Kenny Omega x f/Reader
This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.
Warnings: age gap, Kenny Omega is 40, f/Reader is in their early 20s. P in v. Unprotected sex. Oral (m receiving) cum swallowing.
Requested by anonymous. Hope you like it.
WC: 1288
©️ magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.
It has only been two week since I called our secret relationship off.
Two weeks and she has already found someone else.
I mean, I shouldn't be surprised, she is gorgeous, and young. She is almost done College and has her whole life ahead of her.
She doesn't need her much older Professor keeping her from following her dreams.
So as the final few months of her final year started to close in, I knew it was time to break it off.
I still remember the tears that threatened to fall as I tried to explain to her that she had her whole life ahead of her, and I didn't need to hold her back.
"I am sure you just want to make sure you have your next student lined up for next year to take my place." She angrily said.
I tried to explain to her that wasn't it, but she wouldn't listen.
I tried to tell her that she has and will be the only college student I would ever hook up/be with, but she walked out of my office, slamming the door behind her.
I collapsed in my chair, knowing that these last few months are going to be the hardest months of my life.
Then I could hear the whispers saying that she has been out partying and been seeing some guy.
Usually this wouldn't have been news here, but she as far as anyone else knew, she just wasn't interested in dating or hooking up with other people.
But as I watched her every day in my class, I tried to keep my feelings down.
I tried not to show how jealous I am of these stupid rumors, but when I saw her talking to one of the football players, and he was touching her arm, I kind of snapped.
I called out her name, and she looked up at me, with no emotion on her face.
"Yes Professor?" My cock twitched in my pants at her calling me that. It brought back memories of the first couple of times we hooked up and she would beg me to fuck her.
"Meet me in my office after class."
I could tell she was furious but she had no say in the matter.
So as the minutes ticked by, I didn't make eye contact with her as I came one of my final lectures before their final projects are due.
"You are dismissed. I will see you all Monday afternoon. Remember Tyler." The same football player who was touching her looked up at me. "You will be going first on Monday, so be prepared."
He already knew that. This was decided long before I saw their interaction.
I was sitting at my desk, when I heard her knock on my door.
"Please close the door behind you, and have a seat."
I heard her sigh but do as I ask.
She sat across from me, waiting for me to speak, but I didn't have any logical explanation on why she was here.
She was always the best in my class, even before we started seeing each other.
"Why am I here, Professor?"
I finally looked at her and could see the sadness in her eyes as she looked at me.
"I made a mistake." Was all I said.
"On my last quiz? Yes I believe so, I knew I got question 54 correct."
I shook my head no to that.
"You know what I mean."
"You're the only who broke up with me."
"I know, and I wanted you to move on, but..."
She cut me off before I could finish my sentence.
"So you heard those dumb rumors. Of course that is why I am here." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I thought I could live without holding you or kissing you, ans the thought of you doing that with someone else is driving me insane."
"I am not doing that with anyone. Tyler asked me to help him study. He knows he needs a good grade to pass."
"Oh." Was all I said.
"We were together for a long time Kenny. I couldn't move on that fast even if I wanted too."
"I want you back. I'll go wherever you go. I know you can get a job anywhere." I could get a job at any college as well.
"I don't want to get back with you, just because you believe that I was with someone else." She said to me.
"No, the moment you closed the door when we broke up, I instantly regretted it."
"Kenny, I want to be with you, but you have to be certain you want to be with me."
I stood up, and walked around the table and stood next to her, getting on my knees and looking up at her, holding her hands in mine.
"I want to be with you, and only you."
She wrapped her arms around my neck and we kissed.
I wrapped my arms around her as I stood, never once stopping our kiss.
I picked her up and placed her on my desk, just like I did the first time we did this.
I started to kiss down her neck, as she was trying to undo the buttons of my shirt.
I pushed what little I had on my desk, not bothering to to care at this moment.
She reached down between our two bodies, unzipping my pants and pulling out my cock, jerking it a few times as she placed it against her pussy.
I moved her panties aside, as I slowly slid into her until I finally bottomed out.
"Fuck." I swore under my breath, resting my forehead against hers. I didn't move, savouring finally being inside her after so long.
My thrusts was methodical and deliberate. I knew how she liked it as I watched her fall apart in my arms.
Her juices soaking my cock and my desk below her.
"Kenny." She would gasp here and there, as she looked down at where our bodies were joined.
"You belong to me." I groaned as I sped up.
"Only you Kenny, only you." She whined as she kissed me.
I knew I wasn't going to last long. Not after only using my hand for the past few weeks.
She clung to me, moaning my name into the kiss as she came around my cock. Her pussy clenching around my cock so damn tight, it made me see stars.
I fucked her through her orgasm, knowing how she would would want this to end.
When I was almost at my peak, I pulled back for her to drop to her knees.
Her quickly wrapping her lips around my cock as the first rope of cum came.
She swallowed everything I had to give her as she looked up at me, and I down at her.
My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest as I helped her to feet and get her situated.
We fixed ourselves up and then I kissed her once more, moaning at the taste of me on her lips.
"Come to my place tonight. I'll make you dinner." I told her.
"I'll be there at 6, Kenny." She kissed me one last time, muttering that she loves me.
"I love you too, baby."
Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @madhatterbri @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla @crowleysqueenofhell
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theeliteedits · 1 year
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Text
Can You Keep a Secret?
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Hello, anon! Sorry for the delay on this one! I’ve been dealing with a bruised thumb for a few days so I’ve been waiting for that to go down! But anyway!
The reader here is part of the AEW roster so I hope that’s okay! I’m also planning to write a similar fic but with a male!reader soon!
Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!
You and Kenny have known each other even before his stint in NJPW, meeting him during your times in DDT before you both had to go your separate ways; Kenny had chosen to take a chance and work for NJPW while you stayed in the States to work in various independent companies.
Despite the distance and time difference, you two stayed in touch and would often plan to meet each other whenever he would have shows in America. It isn’t until AEW Dynamite where your paths would cross again. 
Cody had called you, asking if you wanted to sign with the company. A part of you knows that your talent and popularity in the indies had gotten you the opportunity.
But you can’t help but hope that it was Kenny who’d put in the good word about you. 
You happily accept the offer and after weeks of talking, planning and paperwork, it’s official:
You’re #AllElite
You were at the locker room when you watched it happen.
It was AEW Dynamite’s TV debut and everyone couldn’t be any more excited. It was the company’s time to make history. The backstage area is buzzing with energy, a few stagehands would talk into their headsets and make sure that everything is going smoothly. 
You’re still a few weeks away from making your main roster debut, but Kenny had insisted that being backstage would be a good way to hype yourself up, maybe take a few notes from the people who will be making appearances tonight.
Everything was going swimmingly; Cody and Sammy put on an amazing show until Chris Jericho had shown up and ruined Cody’s celebration after putting Sammy away. 
Pac and Adam Page had been building up so much animosity between them and it was both exciting and terrifying to to see it all come to a head. The women, including yourself, surrounded the TV to witness Riho and Nyla’s match, and the reaction upon Riho’s victory had been deafening.
Now it’s time for the main event. The Elite against Jericho and Santana and Ortiz.
The match was going great, Kenny psyching himself up possibly for the V Trigger, until Jon Moxley looms behind him. The locker room goes silent, some of your peers anxiously yelling at the TV for Kenny not to turn around.
You and the rest of the female roster watch with baited breath as Moxley goes after Kenny, dragging him out of the ring and into the crowd and wailing blow after blow on Kenny’s body. Kenny gets some offense in but it’s been Moxley with the advantage. 
They spill their fight out into what looks to be the VIP area, and you can already feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. And that was before Mox hooks Kenny for the Deathrider DDT, Kenny landing head first straight into a glass table. 
A loud noise that sounds like something between terror and shock rings through the room, and it takes you a moment to realize that it had come from you.
The camera goes back to the action going on in the ring but you’re already out the door, the women still inside whispering “What’s her deal?”
You run all the way to the trainer’s room but Kenny isn’t there. Maybe medical personnel are still helping up so you just wait. You nervously pace in front of the trainer’s office, waiting for what feels like forever. 5, 10, 15 minutes pass. What’s happening? It shouldn’t take the medical team this long to take injured talent to get checked, and already dark thoughts cloud your mind. 
What if he’d suffered something serious that he had to be rushed to the nearest hospital? 
Before your thoughts could get darker, you hear someone shouting “Out of the way! Move!” and you feel the anxiety lessen. It hikes back up, however, when you turn to see the medical team and a few referees carrying Kenny on a stretcher, the blonde still unconscious from the impact he’d suffered.
You instinctively follow after him, tears welling up in your eyes, but Aubrey, one of the company’s refs, stop you from getting inside.
You look at her, pleading almost. “Aubrey, I have to get in there! I have to make sure he’s okay!”
She nods understandingly but her face remains stern. “And I understand your concern, Y/N. We all know that you and Kenny go way back and believe me, it would hurt me to see a friend like this too. But I just can’t let you in right now.”
‘He’s not just my friend’ is what you want to tell her but you know better than to actually say it. 
Neither you nor Kenny had set a rule about your relationship being secret. But Kenny’s not the kind of guy who’d just tout his personal life around like it’s part of his gimmick. Same goes for you. 
You don’t want people to think that you’re only in the company because you’re dating one of the EVPs. You’re here because you’ve earned it.
Despite being sick to your stomach with worry, you decide to listen to Aubrey and sit outside, unable to sit still as the minutes tick on. After an hour or so, a doctor exits the office and you quickly spring to your feet.
“Doc?” You ask nervously, wringing your hands. “How is he? Can I check on him yet?”
“He has a slight concussion. We’re giving him some painkillers and plenty of rest, Y/N. But other than that, you have nothing to worry about. But if you still want to check on him, you can go right ahead.”
The doctor walks away, patting your shoulder before she does so. As soon as her hand is off your shoulder, you bolt inside the trainer’s office and shutting the door behind you.
Kenny is still in his ring gear, holding a bag of ice to his head, as he sits on the medical bed. Once in a while, he would hiss and groan in pain, and you can’t help but whimper in pity.
He doesn’t look up but you know he knows you’re there.
“Please tell me you’re not gonna cry over this, princess.” He sounds so nonchalant about this, as if being driven into a glass coffee table is something that happens on a day to day basis. 
You try to act and sound tough, wiping at the tears in your eyes. “Pfft, of course not. I know you’ve been through worse.”
Kenny smiles as he finally looks at you, those blue eyes as bright as his smile. “And yet I just heard you arguing with Aubrey an hour ago about not being let in.’
You roll your eyes. “Well, gee, Kenneth. Sorry for being concerned over your well-being.”
You didn’t mean for it to sound mean but Kenny’s smile falters and he looks almost remorseful.
“C’mere, Y/N.”
You walk over and he embraces you with his free arm, the one that’s not holding the ice to his head. He places a kiss on your forehead, then on the corner of your mouth. You sigh, feeling your heart flutter in your chest.
He pulls back, his beautiful smile back. 
“Sorry I worried you,” He says, sounding genuinely sorry. “It’s just...This whole Mox thing has been getting to me lately.”
You purse your lips together, trying not to bring up his unusual behavior on recent Being The Elite episodes.
Instead, you blurt out something else entirely, and you immediately wish you’d just mentioned the BTE stuff.
“Do we have to keep us a secret?”
He looks taken aback, and you’d love nothing more than to have a black hole suck you up right now.
“Well,” He ponders. “I mean, we don’t have to keep...us secret but you know me, Y/N. You know what I’m like. I don’t like having my personal relationships out there, especially romantic ones.”
He cuts you off before you could say something.
“And don’t get me wrong, I’m not ashamed or embarrassed to be yours. In fact, I want everyone to know about us but you make me happy and that’s enough for me. I don’t need the internet’s approval because I already know in my heart and soul that I want to be with you.”
You’re completely speechless. You feel warmth spreading across your cheeks, and he looks at you with so much love and affection that it makes you a little light-headed.
“So do I wanna keep us a secret?” Kenny asks rhetorically, reaching his free hand out to stroke his thumb on your tanned cheek. “Of course not. But you know the rumors that’ll go around if we tell everyone. And I don’t wanna hear and see people accusing you of being here because you’re with me. You deserve to be here just as everyone else does.”
He gives you another kiss, this time capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. You melt into the kiss, cupping his face in your hands. You stay with him in the trainer’s room to keep him company, talking about video games and upcoming AEW shows, and he looks at you as if you’re his entire world.
And you think to yourself:
Maybe this is one secret you can keep
--
A/N: So yeeeeaaahhhh, is that good? Is that okay? I hope it’s okay! If not, feel free to tell me what to improve! If you enjoyed it, I’m glad you did! So yeah, I have a lot more requests to go through so expect more fanfics from me!
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dirtywresling102 · 2 years
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FANFIC FRIDAY!
TOMORROW IS FANFIC FRIDAY!
On my main blog everyone voted and the winner came out to be Kenny Omega! There will be a Kenny Omega smut fanfic published tomorrow at 5PM CT! I'm very excited to see what everyone will think of it! Other than that, have a lovely day and more imagines your way!
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kenneth-omega · 2 years
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The Fear of Falling in Love
// Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 //
Kenny Omega Short Fic
** UNEDITED 27/08/22 **
Pairing: Kenny Omega x Female Reader
Summary: You’re a family friend of The Young Bucks who, like Matt and Nick, also became obsessed with wrestling from a young age. During Kenny’s absence from screen you were sourced into AEW by the Bucks and brought into the Undisputed Elite faction. Following the recent fall out between Adam Cole/reDragon and the Bucks over the upcoming Trios tournament you finally get to meet the great Kenny Omega. You eventually become locked into a storyline that starts out fun and harmless but soon turns sour at the prospect of real feelings being hurt and relationships tarnished.
IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO A TAGLIST IN FUTURE PARTS WHEN THEY’RE POSTED PLEASE LMK
Warnings: swearing, SMUT (18+, at the end of the chapter, minors please keep ya innocent eyes away, i’m fuckin’ serious), unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT PLS), p in v, light oral (f receiving), choking, spitting kink, praise kink, masturbation (F and M), degradation kink (a lil’), size kink if you squint, dom!Kenny.
Word count: 6.3K (a mega pint chapter)
A/N: we finally getting the FUCK TIME in this chapter brother, nearly a 1/3 of this chapter is smut i’m so sorry. hope you’re all enjoying the story!
Taglist: @unlikelyandrogynousghost @crowleysqueenofhell
For Reference:
“The Young Bucks” Matt and Nick Jackson are Matt and Nick Massie
Your nerves spike to an all time high when Adam’s music hits, the crowd cheering loudly as he and Britt make their way out of the left tunnel.
Taking a second to rearrange your outfit, you feel a hand gently fall against the small of your back.
“You okay, doll?” Kenny’s warm voice does nothing to still your nerves, the pet name he seems to have adopted for you only serving to make you more jittery.
“Peachy.” You exhale, trying to mentally run through the match that you and Kenny had constructed yesterday. Britt and Adam had joined you later on in the afternoon to discuss and share ideas, but were pleasantly satisfied with the story you and the Cleaner had crafted.
Kenny rolls his eyes, scoffing as he turns to face you. “Liar. You’re such an open book, it’s like I can always tell what you’re thinking.” His curls are extra bouncy tonight, jiggling at the slightest movement as he cocks his head to the side, an eyebrow raised. A comfortable silence falls between you both, seemingly unable to take your gaze away from each other.
With your nerves at a temporarily still you can’t help but draw closer to him, once again feeling that magnetic pull of his, enticing you into him. “So…what am I thinking now?” You ask softly, looking up at him through your eyelashes, unable to help the flirtatious tone in your voice.
For a second you could’ve swore that you hear Kenny’s breath catch in his throat, a devilish twinkle appearing in his eyes. As he opens his mouth to return your flirtatious teasing with some banter of his own you both jump simultaneously, Battle Cry suddenly blaring throughout the venue.
There’s a guy with a headset on stood by the steps, yelling over the music to you both.
You both ascend the stairs, your focus now solely on the match ahead of you.
Although you know that the Elite haven’t officially turned face, the two of you walk out from the opposite tunnel, to thunderous cheers. Kenny is in full character, his swagger and confident demeanour shining through.
The two of you are matching in your gear, with you having found a black, tight top with a heart-shaped cutout across the chest and long sleeves to match his compression shirt. In addition, Kenny is wearing black wrestling tights, with electric blue lightning down both legs. You have a black and blue tartan skirt to co-ordinate with him, and have tastefully added the same pop of blue into your eyeshadow tonight.
Finally you have your own leather jacket, not long like Kenny’s, but you’ve once again taken to DIY-ing it, using a silver marker to write “Alpha & Omega” on the back section, which you now turn around to show off proudly, seeing it plastered all over the large screens above you. Perfect.
With the pyro finished Kenny grabs your hand and gives you a twirl, catching you by the hip with his other hand and pulling you in close.
Convincing yourself that this is just for show and none of it matters outside of work you cup his face gently with your free hand, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, turning away from the camera so as to give you a little privacy.
It earns you both a massive reaction from the crowd.
You can’t be certain what with all the stage lights going, but his face looks as though it’s tinged red as he grins sheepishly at you. You pull away and begin to make your way down the ramp, full of the same confidence that Kenny often exudes on camera. You feel weightless, giddy and ready to get down in the ring and give these people a fight. You blow Adam a kiss from the other side of the ring as you ascend the steps, poking fun and hoping to pull further noise from the crowd. It does.
You look back to see Kenny following after you down the ramp, doing his trademark shit talking to the camera. He leans in as he points up to you and you know it won’t be picked up by the mic, but you can see his lips move as he proudly announces “that’s my fuckin’ girl”.
It stings to know that it’s all for show, but you have zero time to dwell on the fact of the matter, savouring his words instead but knowing full well that it would come back to haunt you tonight when you try to sleep. His possessive tone would forever be imprinted in your mind.
When he joins you in the ring, discarding his jacket, you take a moment to absorb the scene before you.
In your eyes this was it. You’d finally made it to somewhere you wanted to be, somewhere you felt truly happy. You were about to wrestle Adam Cole and Britt Baker, alongside someone who meant a lot to you.
With the referee between you, ensuring no altercations would take place before the bell rang, you pat Kenny on the chest, nodding for him to take the outside of the ring, putting yourself in first.
Britt, never one to back down from a challenge, kisses Adam before he exits the square, turning to face you with determination written all over her face. The crowd roars again before they start to settle, ready for the promise of a killer match.
Kenny leans over the ropes, grabbing your arm before the bell is about to ring. He looks you directly in the eye, his face serious.
“Show ‘em who we are, doll.”
With his final words, you focus on Britt, ready to orchestrate the perfect brawl.
You both start out with some bitchy slaps, getting in each other’s face and shoving each other roughly as chants begin out in the crowd. Over her shoulder you see Adam watching intently, calling words of encouragement to Britt. Without warning you punch her in the jaw, spinning her around to face her boyfriend and, with her arms locked by yours, you pull her backwards with breakneck speed into a Snapdragon Suplex.
Adam is on the ropes instantly, shouting indignantly at the referee and hurling insults. Kenny is applauding you in your corner, seemingly proud of your perfect homage to one of his signature moves. You’d practiced a lot of these yesterday together, with Kenny flinging you around the ring countless times over and over to get you used to it.
You return your attention to Britt, throwing her into the turnbuckle in your corner, before rolling forward to give yourself the distance to run full pelt into her, twisting mid jump so your elbow connects with her sternum.
Britt shoves you away from her, going for a pump kick which you narrowly avoid, causing her to stumble forward. You get cocky, channeling the same energy as Kenny, taunting Britt to come for you again. She declines, retreating back to Adam to make a tag. As he enters you walk backwards, not needing to look as you outstretch your open hand, feeling the sharp slap as Kenny tags himself in.
The crowd are alive at the reality of Adam Cole versus Kenny Omega happening in front of them. You can’t stop from feeling the same way.
The next five minutes consists of some rapid back and forth, with Kenny eventually starting to flag as Cole gains the upper hand. As he goes to give Omega the Panama Sunrise you hop the ropes, Britt diving in to stop you from interfering.
Cole hits his move, quickly shifting to make the pin afterwards. You manage to Irish Whip Britt in their direction, causing her to collide with Adam and break the pin for you before Aubrey, the referee, has chance to make the third count. You drag Kenny back to your corner as Britt and Adam regain their footing, with Britt retreating back as Adam stalks forward.
Before he can reach you, you force a tag by leaning over and slapping Kenny’s shoulder as he rests in the corner, still pretending to be dazed. You quickly climb to the top rope, executing a perfect splash onto Adam before rolling off him. Kenny is out the ring finally and you pull Cole to his feet, slamming a knee into his gut so he’s hunched over. You take a run and bounce off the ropes, sprinting and hitting him with a perfect running knee that sends him crumpling to the floor.
Britt is beckoning at Adam to make a tag, leaning as far over the ropes as she can. You roll Adam in her direction with a shove from your boot, beckoning her to make the tag.
“Let’s go bitch!” You shout over the noise of the audience, feeling all the pent up stress and anger of the past couple of days bubbling to the surface. You’d never take your frustrations out on anyone, but you decide to use that energy and put it all into this match.
As the two of you lock up you can’t help but think of everything that’s happened recently, the whispers backstage whenever you walked by, the endless stream of shit from Twitter, the constant questions from your friends. It was exhausting and annoying.
For the next few minutes you and Britt wrestle your asses off, with the DMD matching your ferocity as you battle it out. You attempt a Tope Suicida at one point, with Kenny sitting on the ropes to make the gap larger for you, decreasing the risk of getting caught and landing flat on the outside. Eventually Britt gets you in a prime position for the Lockjaw, bringing her gloved hand to your mouth.
As she pulls on the lower half of your mouth you feign almost tapping out, the crowd deafening as cheers and chants of encouragement mix in with boos angled towards the heels. Instead you clamp your head down, biting on her fingers hard, which causes her to release her grip on you, cradling her hand and nursing the sore digits.
You crawl to Kenny and reach out, making a quick tag to let him finish off the match with Adam.
The two men collide in the ring. With his stamina regained, Kenny wastes no time in finishing up the match, providing his own Snapdragon to Cole with perfect execution before he pulls out the V-Trigger. With one last push, Adam is up on Kenny’s shoulders and down for the One-Winged Angel. You run into the ring and spear Britt as she goes for the save, the referee slamming his hand down for the three count and calling for the bell.
The audience erupts when the bell sounds the end of the match. You discreetly check Britt is okay with a gentle hand squeeze before leaving her, letting her crawl to Adam and mourn their loss.
You’d just beaten the fucking IT couple of AEW!
Kenny is sat in the ring, taking a moment, his back leant up against the ropes. You can see he needs a second by the look the two of you share as you near him, so you get down to his level, pulling him in for a hug as you rest on your knees in front of him, nuzzled between his legs. The public display acts as a short delay, allowing Kenny to recover some more. You can feel his slightly laboured breathing underneath your hands as they lay flat against his back. Kenny’s warm and inviting arms wrap you up, pulling you in closer as he rests his chin in the crook of your neck, his beard tickling the exposed skin.
“Well done...and thank you.” You mumble into his shoulder, wanting to keep your face hidden away from those pesky cameras.
Kenny’s fingers snake up into your hair, gripping onto the locks gently. “I think I should be thanking you, for agreeing to this crazy story and for putting up with my crazy antics.” He praises you in your ear, the words like beautiful music that resonates deep in your heart.
With that he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours for second, his eyes closed as you both sit and absorb the moment together.
Then he’s back to being TV Kenny, the one that brings the swagger and the cocky attitude as he gets up to his feet to much awaited cheers, pulling you up with him.
You both allow Aubrey to raise your arms up in the air, Kenny wincing slightly at the movement.
With the final goodbyes to the crowd you head backstage, going straight to the shared locker room where the Bucks and Brandon await your return.
Matt hugs you first, complaining in a typical older brother-esque style about how you’re sweaty and need to get a shower. You roll your eyes and shove him off you playfully, choosing to ignore the fact that he’s probably right. This is the type of bullying you’re used to from them, having grown up down the road from the Massie family back in California, where you first got in a wrestling ring that they’d built with their father together.
Nick ruffles your hair fondly, always having been the softer of the two. The youngest brother never stopped following you around when you used to go to their house to play together with them and their other siblings. Their older sister liked to tease and say Nick fancied you when you were back in middle school, although he never admitted it. You never believed it anyway.
“What’s the plan then guys? I say we go out, maybe find an arcade, grab some decent grub then call it a night before we head out for Ohio tomorrow!” Matt rambles, pulling out his phone to no doubt begin searching for the nearest arcade centre.
You don’t feel like you’re in any position to go out, instead craving the shower and bed back in your hotel room. Kenny looks over at you expectantly, as though waiting to see whether you were going to agree.
“I’m gonna call it a night I think guys, but seriously go out and have fun. Especially you, you deserve it.” You point at Kenny, before picking up your bag and coat, ready to call yourself an Uber back. You wouldn’t be staying till the end of the show like normal, feeling far too exhausted to stick around for another hour or so.
You exit the locker room, leaving the rest of the Elite to go party and enjoy their evening. As you saunter down the corridor, the cheers of the crowd echoing through from behind you, your phone pings with the notification alerting that your ride is here.
Picking up the pace you get outside, knowing there won’t be many people loitering as everyone is still inside for the show. Your lift pulls up in front of you, popping their boot open to allow you to dump your stuff in the back. As you circle back round the car to get in the back you hear your name being called, turning to look back at the venue front doors.
Kenny comes jogging out, his bag looped over his shoulder and a hoodie on, still in his wrestling gear like you.
“Kenny?” You laugh, unsure why he’s even out here. “What are you-”
“I bailed on the guys. I don’t fancy going out tonight either, so I wondered if maybe you wanted to uh, watch some movies...with me?” He’s slightly out of breath after having sped through the arena to catch up to you. You nibble on your bottom lip as you ponder over his offer. It was dangerous to let yourself spend more time with him alone.
Already you were struggling to keep up the mirage of a “fake couple” without it bleeding into your actual life and emotions. This wasn’t just kayfabe to you...it felt real, and it hurt just the same when you thought about it ending.
With a sigh, you nod, giving him a weak smile in response, already knowing you’re beyond help. You don’t want to fight it anymore, so you accept that there’s nothing you can do about how you feel about the man before you. With that, you may as well enjoy the time with him that you have before it somehow ends up in flames.
---------
Once at the hotel you grab an elevator together, Kenny selecting the floor. It’s on the same as yours handily enough, meaning you can grab a shower and change.
As you exit into the corridor you stop by your room, going to unlock the door, Kenny following after you.
You turn around in the doorway and halt him in his tracks with a hand on his chest.
“What’re you doing?” You laugh, seeing his confused face.
He frowns. “What are you doing?”
You roll your eyes. “I’m getting a shower, something which doesn’t require you to be in here. I’ll stop by your room when I’m done.”
There’s a dark glimmer in his eye at the mention of a shower and he smirks, seeming to have humoured himself with something.
He walks backwards, out of the doorway to your room, and as he turns to leave he looks back at you, his eyes giving you a once over.
“Text me if you change your mind.” He hums, leaving you stood contemplating whether it’s worth chasing after him and pulling him into your room. Grinning like a schoolgirl that just had their crush say ‘hi’ to them, you reign your desires in and instead shut the door.
As you stand beneath the hot spray, washing the ring grime off, you wonder if all this flirting is simply just a way for Kenny to keep you invested in the story, leading you on like some love-struck puppy. Those horrible thoughts slowly start to creep in, telling you that none of this is real, it’s just fake. That Kenny wouldn’t ever really want to be with you. All this, it’s a lie. You’re just living out a fantasy of yours but soon it’ll come to an end.
Feeling sour at the thought you leave the shower, shivering in the bathroom as you stand there naked, your arms wrapped around yourself.
What were you doing here really?
Playing Mr and Mrs for the camera until Kenny or Tony decide to ditch the act for something bigger, like Kenny’s next title run? Inevitably leaving you heartbroken and pushed aside.
You grab a towel and leave the bathroom to dry off, contemplating just getting into bed and letting the covers swallow you into a deep sleep.
With no energy to try and make yourself look decent, you throw on an oversized tee that swamps you, the hem falling past your pyjama shorts to your mid thigh.
When you exit your room, taking care to peek out and check the corridor first for any pesky Bucks or others, you scoot across to Kenny’s door, knocking lightly.
He opens the door to you, curls still wet from his shower as little droplets fall from the strands and drip onto his taped up body. He’s yet to put on a shirt, only in some basketball style shorts, so you get your first full view of him post-recovery.
He still appears as though carved by gods, but you notice a softer edge to his curves, the only seeming telltale that he’s been off for a while aside from all the tape wrapping him up. A few droplets run down his chest, trickling slowly across his lightly tanned skin. You clench your legs together, thighs rubbing slightly for some much wanted friction as you drink in his appearance.
“Want to come in?” He offers, stepping aside and opening the door wider to let you go past. You note how tidy the room is, thinking back to your own room that is a current stay of disarray. The bed is neatly made, with some DVDs spread out at the end for you to peruse.
“Take your pick, I won’t be a minute, should probably finish getting dressed.” He smiles sheepishly, catching his reflection in the mirror he passed by, which sends your heart pounding.
“Honestly don’t feel like you have to cover up in front of me, you should feel as comfortable as possible.” You assure him. Picking up one of the cases, you pop the disc into the TV’s box.
Kenny sidles up behind you, peering over your shoulder to see what you decided on, his fingers grazing over your hip as he leans in against your back. It takes all your inner discipline to not roll your hips back automatically, resisting the want to grind up against him and still the ache between your legs.
“Good choice.” Is all he says, not furthering in his advancement on you, despite his dancing fingers. You nibble your lip in frustration, needing distance from his touch in order to recalibrate and reign in your wants and desires.
“I’ll be back, we’re missing something important.” He informs you, heading for the door, the weighing pressure on your chest finally lifting, allowing you to release the breath you hadn’t even realised you were holding.
“W-what?” You stutter slightly, brain still slightly foggy from the cloud of lust enveloping it.
“Snacks!” Kenny beams, his face a picture of genuine excitement, that soft side to him you’d only seen a couple of times shining through.
With that he leaves the room, still shirtless mind you, closing the door so that you’re left standing alone in his room. Looking around, unsure what to do with yourself, you pull out your phone and text Ethan quick.
C: You around tomorrow? x
Ethan doesn’t take long to reply, obviously bored and messing around on his phone.
E: Off 2 film a new toy vlog once we reach Ohio, want 2 join? Hayter, Mark and Danhausen coming 2morrow x
You want to speak to Ethan alone and although a toy store isn’t the place you had in mind you figure that this is likely the only way to get a moment to speak to your friend. The next two weeks leading up to All Out were due to be hectic.
You type back a response quickly before Kenny returns.
C: See you tomorrow, need to talk about something URGENT x
E: Anything I should b worried about? x
Bless his sweet nature, you thought, unable to not smile at your friend’s genuine concern for you.
C: Just need a friend to talk to x
The front door opens and you look up to see Kenny has returned with his spoils. Share bags of various sweet things and some little bags of popcorn, plus a few cans of Coke and Sprite.
You go over to help him, his hands full as he struggles to open the door fully.
“Where did you go?” You laugh, taking a few of the things from his arms and locking the door behind you both as he dumps it all on the bed.
With a wolfish grin he kicks his shoes off. “Raided the vending machine!” He tells you before hopping onto the bed and patting the space next to him. “We need a lot of snacks if we’re gonna watch them all.” He gestures with the TV remote to the short stack of DVDs you’d put to the side.
“Wait we’re watching them all?!” You backtrack on his words, wanting to make sure you heard him right. His hand still rests on the bed where he beckoned you to sit.
“Well this is a movie night. I figured we watch till we’re tired.”
You contemplate for a moment whether or not you’re really going to be able to focus on these films for the rest of the night whilst sat next to him, as your mind seems to have it’s own agenda at the moment.
Fuck it.
You jump onto the bed beside him, propping the pillows up so you can rest back on them.
Kenny switches the room lights off and the two of you settle in for the first movie.
Not long into it Kenny stretches himself out, one arm coming up to rest behind his head as the other rests on the waistband of his shorts, his thumb hooked underneath. You attempt to ignore it, knowing he’s just getting comfortable, but can’t stop yourself from taking a moment to imagine what lies in those shorts.
Your core throbs at the thought and you have to resist the urge to slip your hands into your shorts just to get some satisfaction and curb the craving want in your stomach.
“Something wrong?” Kenny asks you earnestly, noticing the way you’ve stopped watching the film and seem to be staring off into space, your mind elsewhere.
Shaking your head you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment to calm yourself down. Kenny nods understandingly but his curiosity is definitely peaked as he watches you leave. Once inside the bathroom, the cool tiles underneath your feet, you turn on the tap to the coldest setting and stand there for a moment as it runs.
You don’t think you’re going to last around him. All this pent up sexual frustration is starting to seriously have an impact on you, to the point where you can’t even sit next to the guy without wondering what his cock looks like.
Worst of all, he seems oblivious to it, in typical male fashion.
You cup your hands under the cold stream and splash your face with water, relishing the startling wake up call it provides you. A few drops run down your front, dampening your t-shirt and the cold sensation makes your nipples pebble beneath the fabric. It’s fine though, because your head feels much clearer for it and you can think straight again once more. A couple more handfuls for good measure and you then dry off your face with the hand towel.
As you open the bathroom door and go to leave you’re nearly frightened to death when you find Kenny leaning against the wall next to you, arms folded across his broad chest.
“Jesus, Kenny! You just scared the fuck out of me.” You gasp, resting a hand on your chest, heart pounding beneath your palm. Kenny’s eyes wander down to your chest, seemingly distracted for a moment. He clears his throat after a few seconds.
“Everything okay?” He asks you sincerely, his hand subtly shifting down to his shorts, gently resting over his crotch as though he were hiding something. The TV in the background continues to run, with neither of you having even bothered to pause it. You bite your lower lip as you nod.
Kenny brings a hand up to your chin, tilting your head upwards and exposing your neck as he leans in. His nose grazes your jaw as his lips lightly dance across the sensitive skin of your neck.
“You’re such a terrible fucking liar.” He whispers softy, before his teeth nip sharply at your throat.
Fuck.
“K-Kenny-“ You stutter quietly, unsure how to respond to his actions. It’s not like you weren’t enjoying it.
“I hope you know just how hard this has been for me.” He murmurs across your skin. You look down as far as your eyes allow you from your current position, just about able to see his spare hand palming himself through his shorts. A significant outline of his cock is visible through the fabric and you swallow heavily. He’s certainly not small.
“For you?” You echo, thinking about how wound up Kenny has made you these past few days. Your legs squeeze together as you slowly grind your thighs. Kenny removes his hand from your chin and slaps your legs, forcing them apart.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growls, his hand moving up to cup your pussy, the tips of his fingers grazing over your clothed hole. “You’re such a tease.” He groans, the heel of his hand pressing into your clit, earning a breathy gasp from you.
“Then why don’t you put me in my place and just fuck me already?” You ask him boldly. Kenny’s head pops up so that his eyes are level with yours. His pupils are blown with lust and there’s none of that usual sparkle to them, instead having been replaced by a dark glimmer that promises pleasurable hell.
“Since you asked so nicely, doll.” He grins, both his hands reaching for your ass to pull you up off your feet and into his arms. With your legs wrapped around his waist your pussy is pressed flush against his rock hard cock, which nudges your clit with every bounce as he moves you towards the bed.
He throws the covers aside, the snacks and drinks going flying onto the floor as he clears the space to put you down.
You loosen your grip on him as he pulls away from you, his hands gripping your knees and spreading your legs apart.
“Get these off.” He demands, glaring at the shorts which still cloth your throbbing core.
You oblige willingly, wiggling yourself out and pushing them down your legs, kicking them off the rest of the way with your feet. The cold air of the bedroom hits your heat and makes you shiver, your nipples hard as they press through your t-shirt.
Kenny opens your legs once more, drinking in the sight of your glistening cunt as you lay bare for him. You notice a patch of precum that’s soaked through his shorts, an instant tell of how aroused he is.
“Now your turn.” You tell him, eager to see that delicious cock free from its restraints. He chuckles darkly, something which you don’t like the sound of.
“Patience. You’ll get my cock soon enough. But right now I want to have some fun. Let’s see how long we can hold off making you cum, hm?” He suggests, slipping further down the bed so his face lies level with your wet folds.
“Kenny, please I-ahh!” Your head falls back mid sentence as the warm and pleasant sensation of Kenny’s tongue swirling your clit hits you suddenly. Your hand reaches down to grab a bunch of his curls, tugging in retaliation. The sharp pain causes him to lift his head, glaring at you.
He crawls back up to you and presses his soft lips to yours, stilling your stubbornness for a moment. As you both deepen the kiss, Kenny’s hand slips down your stomach and presses between your folds, two fingers slipping inside of you without warning. You let out a gasp, your mouth open against his.
“That’s what you get for acting like a brat. Do it again and I won’t leave you able to walk.” He snarls, spitting in your mouth before he forces your mouth shut. “Swallow.” He commands you.
You do so willingly for him.
This seems to impress him as he smiles down at you. “Good girl.”
The praise from him alone is enough to send you light-headed.
“Fuck yourself for me, pretty girl. I wanna see how you touch yourself on those nights when all you desperately wanted was my cock filling up this beautiful cunt of yours.” He sits back on his heels, waiting and watching as you obediently follow orders.
You’re too hot in your shirt so you throw it off without further consideration, needing the cool air to bring you down off this sex-drunk high.
Without hesitation you reach a hand down between your thighs and begin to play with yourself, teasing your hole as your spare hand toys with your now free breasts. Kenny watched avidly as you fuck your fingers in and out slowly, your eyes half closed in lust-filled bliss.
“Kenny…” You moan softly. As you continue to pleasure yourself you watch as he dips a hand into his shorts, pulling his cock free. The sight nearly makes your throat run dry. How the fuck was he going to fit that in your tight hole?
Slowly he pumps his shaft as he watches you, running a thumb over the tip to collect the precum that had beaded out, using it to coat his cock.
“God, I could just cum watching you get yourself off over me, you needy slut.” He groans, his free hand coming to grip a hold of your knee.
You nod in agreement, already feeling your high start to build.
Kenny narrows his eyes at you as he watches your face change to become more concentrated.
“If you cum I won’t fuck you. So don’t even think about it.” He growls at you, fucking his fist with more vigour as his aggressive behaviour only riles him up further. You whine needily, hating the idea of losing your current momentum. “The only time you’re cumming tonight is around my cock, when I tell you to.”
Swallowing hard, you turn your concentration to holding off the impending orgasm in the pit of your stomach.
A couple more minutes go by as Kenny groans, complimenting you in every way imaginable. Your pussy, your pretty fingers as they disappear in your hole, the way your tits bounce slightly with each thrust.
“Enough.” He finally tells you, letting you remove your slick fingers from your swollen and throbbing cunt. “I need that tight hole around me.” He grunts, pulling his shorts off fully and fixing himself between your already shaky legs. He lifts one of them over his shoulder, sizing up his large cock to align with your pussy.
Without further warning, he presses his head in, slowly moving inch by inch to fill you up with his throbbing shaft. The stretch stings but isn’t unpleasant as he finally, eventually, bottoms out inside you.
“Fuck.” You both moan at the same time, eyes locking as you cast each other slightly fucked out smiles. Kenny takes a second before he moves, savouring the tight, warm feeling.
Once the tender moment has passed he’s back to himself, the cocky, dominating character that you’re all too familiar with. With a snap of his hips he pulls out nearly the whole way before slamming back into you, a sharp slap of skin against skin echoing in the room. The TV continues to run the film, providing some background noise.
He repeats the action again, relishing how your pussy milks him, taking every inch. He starts up a harsh rhythm, ramming himself into you at a furious pace. Unrelentless and unforgiving, he furthers the motion by leaning into you, the angle shifting so that he can hit deeper. His face hovers above yours, curls bouncing with each movement, as he watches you. With each rotation of his hips you have to fight to stop your eyes rolling back into your head.
“You’re close aren’t you?” He asks after a short while, feeling you start to clench tighter around his cock. “Hold off, princess. I promise you’ll cum, but only when I say so. Can you do that for me?”
You nod weakly, but he raises an eyebrow at you.
“I need words doll, tell me you can hold on like a good girl. Let me savour your wet, hot cunt just a little longer.” He slightly groans at the end, a signal to you that he’s close to his own orgasm.
“Yes.” You agree.
“Yes what?” He growls, his pace picking up. He grips your throat with one hand in warning. Each thrust nudges your clit, sending fire through your stomach.
“Y-Yes…sir.” You gasp, feeling his grip slowly tighten, playing with your oxygen flow, the light headed sensation making you fuck-drunk.
Kenny pumps into you some more at the same unforgiving pace, his stamina clearly not affected despite you both going at it consistently for a while now. It’s only when his tight, controlled thrusts become sloppy that you realise how close he is.
“Fuck-“ He hisses, the hand currently gripping your thigh moving to rest above your clit, his thumb pushing down on the sensitive bud and rolling tight circles over it.
“Kenny, I can’t-“ You choke out, feeling the familiar hot burn in your stomach as he continues his pace.
“Let go princess, cum for me and get your sweet juices all over my cock. Be good for me and show me how much you wanted this.” He encourages, slipping in and out of you with such ease now. You had adjusted so well to his swollen, thick length that he couldn’t help but praise your resilience.
You stop trying to fight off your orgasm, instead meeting each of his thrusts with your hips, the movement putting additional pressure on your clit.
“I-I’m gonna…” You groan, unable to finish your words as Kenny pushes you into your orgasm, continuing to fuck you through the intense waves of pleasure as your hands reach for something to anchor to, finding his back and digging into the hard muscle. The feeling brings a hiss of pleasure and pain from him, edging him over as he too rides out his orgasm, a low moan coming from the back of his throat as he thrusts a few more times into you for good measure. His cock throbbing as he thrusts his thick ropes of cum into you.
Kenny flops forward, his arms supporting him so as not to fall directly onto you. His eyes remain closed for a few seconds as he regains his composure, before opening them and meeting you with a tired, fucked-out smile.
Unable to say much at the moment, trying to reserve your remaining energy, you return the smile.
He leans in slowly, careful not to move too quick, and presses a soft, tender kiss to your swollen lips that you’ve bitten red raw.
“So much for professionalism, huh?” He jokes, relieving you both of the post-fuck tension that had followed.
149 notes · View notes
daddyhausen · 1 year
Text
• violence. — wheeler yuta •
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{ masterlist } | { aew masterlist } | { wheeler yuta masterlist }
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{ summary } — despite a win, fury flooded through him, he needed to let that violence out one way or another
{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, small injury spitting, domination, submissive x dominant dynamic, angry sex, face slapping, blood/blood play impact play, choking, breath play finger sucking, degradation, fingering dacryphilia, face fucking, oral sex { male receiving }, facials, cumshots, spanking, pussy slapping, forced orgasms , multiple orgasm, male + female orgasms, internal cumshots, rough sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting
{ word count } — 2k
{ pairing } — fem!reader x wheeler yuta
{ genre } — smut
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{ taglist } — @cosmoholic13 @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @elsteenerico @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore
{ beta readers } — @allelitesmut + @legit9thlunaticwarrior
{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }
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it all seemed a blur, the motion of his fist collided with the cold brick with a sickening thud, the way he showed no emotion after the fact, simply staring with a calloused scowl, completely unmoved by the tiny chips of red brick and fresh blood that flooded the pale skin of his knuckles. he’d been hardened, battle-tested by mox and the rest of the blackpool combat club. pain was nothing to him, certainly nothing he’s not been through already. still you could not help but stand in disbelief as the uncanny look of rage burned deep within him.
he’d won the match, hell, he got the pin and over kenny omega of all people. yet there was a thirst still lurking, hungry for more violence and bloodshed. punching the wall seemed like the only logical option to let said anger out.
without a word you pried his knuckles from the brick, noticing how the little chips of terracotta red stained his skin, small cuts forming around them as warm pools of blood slowly began to seep to the surface. you cupped his hand in yours, daintily, almost afraid that the slightest movement would set him off, still he remained stoic, eyes fixated on the wall still
“on your knees. now.” he muttered through a scowl, teeth clenched with a subtle growl to his words. you blinked a couple of times, you heard him of course but still could not help but be perplexed by his statement. his hand rose once more, tangling his long digits in your hair, tugging at the scalp, pushing you to your knees before him.
“you playing dumb with me, sweetheart?” his question, although rhetorical, left an unsavoury ringing in your ears. “when i tell you to do something, you better fucking do it”
the words, the actions, it just was not him, mox had definitely taught him a thing or two that’s for sure. his hand remained in your hair, tugging at the roots every so often to make sure you were looking up at him, throwing in a slap or two just for good measure. your eyes would fall to his bulge, prominent, yet hidden behind the black jeans he was sporting in place of his usual ring gear. they sat low on his hips, v-line prominent as your eyes scanned his figure.
his free hand, quick with its movements, undid the button of his jeans. in quick succession his cock now free from the shield of the fabric, slapping his tip against the swell of your bottom lip. he did not ask for you to open wide, instead using his tip to pry your mouth open, forcing himself down your throat.
“fuck…” he groaned out, elongating the word, holding himself in your throat for a few seconds. he could already begin to see the glimmer in your eyes, how they stung and burned each time you tried to inhale a breath, wet and teary, beginning to drip down your cheeks. he had not even started moving and already had you clawing at his thighs for air.
“pathetic…” he pulled back slightly, allowing the smallest chance at a breath, before slamming his cock down the back of your throat with such lovely force. he propped your skull in both hands, your mouth nothing more than a fleshlight, a toy for his pleasure only.
you managed to sneak a glance up at him, through teary, burning eyes. his head hung back in pleasure, tongue parting his lips, mouth hung slightly agape, pleasure dripping from every moan and groan that left his throat.
“feels so fucking good…” he increased the momentum of his hips, keeping your head close as he held himself down your throat once more, adoring the sounds of chokes gurgles and barely-there breaths. you nails dig into his exposed thighs, clawing down the skin with deep red marks. he’d noticed some of the blood from his knuckles beginning to drip down his wrist, on your forehead, he smirked down at the sight, loving how well the shade of ruby complemented your skin tone. he pulled away for a second, smearing the droplet of blood across your face
“you look so fucking good covered in blood, princess” he whispered through his teeth, slamming your head down onto his cock so hard that he was sure to bruise the back of your throat. “it gets me off quicker knowing that it’s my blood”
he came down your throat without warning, pulling away at the last second to let the final droplets of his cum coat your lips and chin. he took the moment to admire you, face covered in fresh blood and cum, you looked even more intoxicating than usual. your eyes rolled back from the wonderful abuse of his cock, tongue jutting out just past your lips, already looking so fucked out. he smiled down you for a moment before spitting in your face, following it up with another harsh slap to your cheek. you whimpered at the feeling, but it did nothing more than fuel the pulse between your thighs.
“get up.” he dragged you by your hair to the bed. throwing you into the mattress without a care. fingers locked into the thin fabric of your tight mini dress, tearing the material from your body with ease. his eyes peered down darkly, noticing that you’d gone bare underneath, skin so pristine and untouched.
“such a needy little whore aren’t you? showing up here with no panties under your dress, you must really be craving my dick” he offered a rough spank to your ass, one that left you whimpering with pleasure. he spun you around, back now pressed into the cheap, thin hotel mattress, hips angles upward slightly, giving him a perfect view of your dripping cunt.
“like the view?” you teased playfully, noticing how mesmerised he was with your void, he blinked a couple of times before answering with a quick slap to your cunt, the sensation made your thighs close instinctively, only for him to pry them open with little resistance, he let two fingers enter you, curling up at the sensation of your warmth, exploring your void. he glanced down between your thighs, noticing how your cunt had reddened from that single slap, how swollen your clit was. it seemed to only arouse him more, offering yet another slap, one which left you a whining mess. as much as he wanted to continue to see you unravel on his fingers, he desperately needed to get his dick wet.
“of course, baby. but…” he stalled for a moment, positioning himself between your thighs, “it’ll look better with my cock buried in it”
his lips parted with a small breath, eyes gazing down at you ravenously, the brown of his irises seemed darker, more lustful, more fixated. the sensation between your thighs only grew, the tip of his cock gliding against and parting your delicious folds with such ease, leaving your lover marvelling at the slickness, how it glistened under the warm yellow glow of the bedside lamp. your stomach whirling in excitement, anticipation crawling beneath your skin. he remained silent, offering you no warning as to when he was going to begin, he kept you on edge for a moment, a small smirk crossed his lips, watching on as you held a breath on your chest
he watched your eyes roll back in pleasure, that breath you’d been holding now a startled gasp being lustfully ripped from your throat, mouth hung agape as a moan rolled off your tongue. he found himself buried deep in you, savouring the subtle pulse of you around his shaft. he gave a soft grunt, his hips snapping against yours with a solid thrust. he’d noticed the paleness in your knuckles, how tense your grasp on the bed sheets were, how avoidant your gaze had become, not due to lack of pleasure, none of the sort. it was a wonderful feeling, it made you feel so lightweight as if you were floating, even with the minimal strokes he gave. a kind of pleasure that only seems real in dreams, hence why you felt as if you physically could not open your eyes.
he gripped your throat tightly, a slender hand wrapping around just under your jaw, thumb slowly tracing across your bottom lip to part them. the sensations seemed to have jostled you from your trance, peering up at him through glassy eyes, as he offered another rough thrust.
“what?” he mocked.
“does my dick feel that good?”
he gave you no time to respond, not even being able to reciprocate a simple nod before he began his movements, such rough thrusts leaving you feeling so full within seconds. he kept a hand wrapped around your throat, effectively keeping you in place for the moment, all the while your choked moans rumbled in your throat, spit dripping off the tip of your tongue as your mouth hung open.
“f-fuck…” you barely managed to breathe out, the word mixed in with a moan, feeling him so violently fuck you out, legs propped up, knees at your chest, he practically had you folded in half, pressing himself down against you, his cock sinking deeper into your cunt.
“look at you, can’t even speak properly. how pathetic”
his thrusts were violent, more so than usual. it was different, yes the passion was still obviously there, yet he seemed more vicious, more dominant. you enjoyed it, evident by the swell of arousal in your belly and the pool of wetness between your thighs. he could feel you tighten around him, it was rhythmic, like a heartbeat, clenching around his cock in almost perfect intervals. moans heightened with every thrust, so much so you thought the other residents of the hotel would surely put in a noise complaint.
“you’re gonna cum for me, right now” he growled, pressing his forehead to yours
“b-but i-“ you stammered before he cut you off
“i don’t give a fuck! you’re gonna make a mess around my cock, do you understand me?!”
the loudness of his voice made your ears ring, he’d increased the speed of his thrusts, trying to force an orgasm out of you. the pleasure was overbearing, making your head spin with each movement, you cried out to him, begging for mercy. you could not even comprehend your orgasm, pushing your hips up against his, feeling your sweet warmth gushing from between your thighs, feeling him smirk into your jawline
“that’s it you filthy slut, make a fucking mess” his voice more at a whisper, still it did not deter his vicious movements, he kept the same pace until he spilled over. so rough, so violent as he came inside you with zero warning, adoring the way you so graciously accepted his seed.
“so wet, so warm…your cunt is so perfect baby” he continued to thrust beyond his orgasm, making sure he filled you with every last drop of his cum. he remained inside you for the moment, letting the warmth of your cunt pulse around his size, he laid his head atop your chest, face buried into the crook of your neck, lip lingering against your skin.
“i didn’t scare you did i?” he mumbled breathlessly, now noticing the dried dots of crimson against your jawline, tracing over it daintily with his injured hand, wincing slightly upon realising his own injury
“no..” you remarked, fingers twirling the short strands of black hair that stuck to his forehead, he peered up at you, his gaze now softer than before.
“i mean it was kinda scary seeing you all violent like that but it was such a huge turn on”
he hummed into your skin, smiling into the subtle kiss he left there. hands already beginning to roam your figure once more.
“maybe i should be more rough with you all the time” he stated, leaving a lingering kiss to your jawline, injured hand coming up to groped your breast again before you sat up, much to his dismay
“let me help you fix that hand up first, then round two in the shower”
his eyes lit up at the suggestion, already making his way to the bathroom
“you don’t have to tell me twice!”
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thesupreme316 · 2 years
Note
darius martin x female reader. the reader works for aew as a part of the creative team and one day she makes a mistake in the match card which causes sammy guevara to yell in her face and give her an anxiety attack, however darius is there to comfort her and *almost* attack sammy bc he's in loooove with the reader. ends in a relationship?
Favorite Girl (Darius Martin x Fem!Reader):
Genre: Fluff, Angst, FriendstoLovers
Summary: When you suffer from an anxiety attack, Darius knows what to do to calm you down.
Word Count: 1,785
Supreme Speaks: hehe, sooo this is a long one (probably the longest I've ever written). anywhoosies, I hope @hooks-martin and everyone else enjoy it. I put images in this imagine (something I might start doing for the rest of my fics) ALSO, i hope everyone is doing well and remember you are loved and appreciated.
Warnings: slightly proofread, mentions of anxiety attacks
Taglist (if you wanna be a part of it, lemme know): @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @triscillal @sheinthatfandom @diabloguapos @wwenhlimagines
Growing up, you always wanted to work in television production. And you always wanted to be a wrestler. So when you were deciding your future career goals (and figuring out you weren’t that athletic), you decided to combine the two and wanted to become a promoter or producer in a wrestling company. After just graduating from college and working the independent wrestling scene since you were 16 as a manager, you soon got calls to work backstage at different companies. Then at 22 years old, you were signed by All Elite Wrestling.
At the fastest-growing pro-wrestling promotion, your roles in the company include creative writer and creative producer. So basically, you help out with storylines and the gimmicks of wrestlers and personnel. Even though for the most part wrestlers create their promos and “scripts” by themselves, they still have to ask for the okay and help now and then. As you are the mentee of your boss, Tony Kahn, you are hit with tasks every day: getting coffee, talking to talent about their storylines, approving promo topics, running meetings about how storylines should go, and explaining to Eddie Kingston why he cannot stab Claudio.
You were a friendly face amongst the talent and other backstage hands as you were the delicate words to Tony’s rough actions. And then with you being one of the youngest members of AEW’s personnel, everyone saw you as their little sister; The Young Bucks, Kenny Omega, Ricky Starks, Renee Paquette, Dustin Rhodes; even Jon Moxley and Eddie Kingston adore you. As you walked into the arena for AEW Rampage, you were stopped by your best friend, Skye Blue (who helped you with the drink tray as you had held two bags).
“Girl, you look like an intern from New York,” Skye said giggling.
You sighed, “I might as well as be one. Tony has been moving at level 100 this past week. Ratings and pressure from the locker room have been getting to him lately.”
“What do you have to do today?”
“Umm, finalize matches on the card, talk to Max about his rap, create an outline for the creative meeting, listen to MJF rant for ten minutes again,” you were cut off by your cell phone alerting you about a text, you read your screen and continue to talk. “And talk Eddie out of murdering someone.”
Skye laughed, “Sounds like a full day. But I’m surprised to hear that your day doesn’t include one person.”
“Who?” You asked as Skye stopped in her tracks. “What?” She just raised her eyebrows and winked in response. Your eyes widened as you realized who she was talking about. “Shut up!” You started walking faster to the backstage table for producers.
Skye was talking about Darius Martin, one-half of the incredible tag team Top Flight. Ever since you arrived in AEW, you’ve been interested in Darius. He and his brother Dante were the first friends you made in AEW. They even invited you to join their friend group with Hook and Anthony Bowens. Darius was everything you wanted in a significant other: smart, kind, insanely funny, athletic, and most importantly reliable. He was there every time you needed something, it didn’t matter whether it was 3 PM or 3 AM, he was always there.
But somewhere down the line, you were convinced not to pursue a relationship with him. You didn’t wanna ruin the friendship that you had with him, especially when you couldn’t tell if he liked you back.
As you sat your stuff down at the production table, Skye sat the coffee cups down. “Why don’t you ask him out? It’s clear that you like him.”
“There are multiple reasons.”
“It better not be because of me and his brother.” She said raising an eyebrow, to which you gave a small smile. “Y/N!” Another reason why is that you knew Skye and Dante were exes (and you did not complicate their relationship). “Okay, you need to understand that what happened between with me and Dante was between us. I don’t care that you like his brother, it’s not like you’re breaking the girl code. Besides, you have to be a complete idiot if you think that Darius doesn’t like you.”
“I know that for a fact.” You said through your teeth.
A voice from behind you spoke up, “Know what for a fact?” And just from the honey and smoothness in their voice, you know for a fact that it was Darius right behind you. You turned around to his beautiful brown eyes gazing into yours. Honestly? You almost either jumped in his arms or melted right then and there.
“That Tony likes his coffee lukewarm.” You blurted out quickly.
Darius shrugged and said “Ew, lukewarm coffee, I knew he was a weird dude. Anyways, are you ready for the hangout tonight? We were thinking Dave and Busters, they don’t close until 1.”
“Yeah, but I might have a meeting afterward, so I might be late.”
“That’s okay, we’ll wait for you.”
“Really? For little old me?”
“Anything for my favorite girl,” Darius said with a smile. To you immediately looked down and started blushing (automatically feeling butterflies from the nickname). He gave you a quick hug (and what you could have sworn was a kiss on the crown of your head) and told Skye bye before leaving. Looking back up, you see Skye with a shit-eating grin. You quickly dismissed her and sat down, getting ready to tackle the day.
Hours later, you completed everything on your to-do list and found some downtime. You found yourself texting Darius with a wide-ass grin on your face.
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Just as you were about to respond, you were met with a booming voice, “What the fuck is this shit?” You looked up to see Sammy Guevara walking over to you with an angry face. He put his phone in your face with the phone reading Sammy Guevara vs Eddie Kingston.
Looking back up, you said, “What’s the problem?”
“Why am I wrestling Eddie? That literally makes no sense! Eddie has no business in the ring with me!” He said standing over you. You quickly got up to put distance between yourselves as people turned their heads to see what was going on.
You stuttered out, “Tony made the match and told me to confirm with the production crew.” It was true. Tony wrote the matches on tonight’s card and gave it to you. At first, you admit, it was strange and you questioned him; but he brushed you off as he was busy with other things (so you decided to let it be).
“No! No, Tony would never be this stupid! You are horrible at your job! I don’t know why he has a kid doing this job!” He got closer, yelling at you. You started to slightly hyperventilate as you don’t do well in high-pressure situations (and certainly not when someone is yelling two inches away from your face). Due to your anxiety, you hated confrontation and tried everything to avoid it; including taking responsibility and moving on. Your eyes started to water as he continued yelling, “Oh you’re gonna cry?!”
You quietly said, “I’m sorry”
“I bet you are! You better fix this or-“
“Or what Guevara?” Another voice spoke up. You turned to see an angry Darius marching up to Sammy with Dante, Hook, and Anthony not far behind him. As soon as he got in Sammy’s face, Darius pulled you behind him (essentially shielding you). He pushed Sammy which caused him to get back in Darius’ face, “You ain’t gonna do shit, you better back the hell up.”
“I-”
“You’re not gonna scream at her, she was just doing what-“
“No! She’s screwing up tonight! My-”
Darius raised his voice, cutting him off, “She was doing her job! Now either you accept your match or you take it up to Tony when he gets here. But you’re not gonna yell at her, not while I’m here.” Sammy glared at you before stomping away, curse words and all. Darius immediately turned to you and hugged you, softly caressing your hair. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” You shook your head as tears fell down your face and as your body was shaking due to your hyperventilation. He quickly ushered you to his locker room, where he sat you down and gave you a water bottle. You took various sips as he went through the 5-4-3-2-1 method with you. As you got down to the final step, your breathing slowed down and your tears dried. “Name 1 thing you taste.”
“The lint from your shirt mixing with this water.” You said, making him laugh. “Thank you for helping me and calming me down.”
“Don’t thank me, I’m supposed to do that. Truth be told, I want to fight him.” Darius said, rubbing your arm.
“Well, good thing you didn’t. But again I appreciate you so much.”
“Of course, I got your back. As a friend or something more.” He said, his voice drifting off.
Your eyes widened as your head turned toward him. “Darius, what?”
Darius slightly chuckled, “I really thought I was obvious. Y/N, I really want us to be more than friends. I don’t ever want you to feel disrespected, especially when I’m in your life.” He grabbed your hands. “You should never have to feel anxious, especially when I would do anything for you. I will always be right there for you.”
Your eyes sparkled and your heart thumped at the words. “I didn't think you liked me like how I like you. But, would you really do anything for me?” You asked.
He nodded his head, "Anything for my favorite girl." Your heart fluttered at the familiar nickname yet again.
“You promise?”
“Here’s my promise,” Darius said as he leaned in and gave you a long yet soft kiss. “Y/N, I will do anything and everything for you. I promise to make you the happiest woman on Earth and I promise to give you my all. If you accept me as your boyfriend.”
Giggling, you said, “Of course, I would love for you to be my boyfriend.” Darius kissed you again as knocking occurred at the door. In rolled, Hook, Dante, and Anthony checking up on you guys. While Darius was explaining your newfound relationship, you got a text.
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That night, you walked away from the arena happier and more relieved with your new boyfriend in tow.
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