#mjf fanfics

[dirtywrestling]

Can I request a MJF X Female Reader where they are Mixed Tag Team Partners for a Tournament in AEW. He’s an Asshole, She a sweetheart and loves to annoy him. They go on to win the tournament and the Mix Tag Team Championships for the tournament and he kisses her roughly in the ring as they celebrate with The Pinnacle and she ends up joining as the only female on the team?

Pairing: MJF x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Blog, Kissing

Commission Requests: Closed!

Imagine Requests: Open!

Follow My Side Blog!: @dirtywresling102

You inhaled and puffed out the air right when it entered your lungs, trying to calm your breathing down as you stared at MJF across the ring. He was fed up with your annoying games, this time you really had done it.

MJF was getting his ass beat and once he rolled by your corner your quickly tagged in making him glare at you that he didn't need saving. You thought other wise.

Knocking Britt Baker out with a running knee she quickly fell and you covered her for the pin. Adam in the other corner yelled at Britt to kick out but the bell rang singing your victory.

"Why'd you tag me out?"

"Why does it matter? We won!" You exclaimed grabbing the championship from the ref as he handed MJF his. MJF snagged it from the ref's hand and tossed it to the ground glaring at you.

"MJF?" You frowned as he approached you.

MJF's hard gaze was still on you as you weren't able to move, too scared that you really fucked it up this time and he was going to yell at you. Feeling his hands cupping your cheeks you squinted at him only for you eyes to widen at his lips pressing against yours.

MJF's lips moved roughly against yours, his tongue licking your bottom lip for access to taste you. Moaning softly as his tongue slipped in between your lips and exploring your mouth you both pulled away. "What the hell." You said in a whisper.

MJF smirked down at you. You looked behind him realizing that the Pinnacle group was now behind MJF. "What's going on?" You asked in a slight daze.

"I want you to be with me, as my girl and the only girl in my group."

You smiled up at him and nodded. "I will, I will be your girl."

[mjwhisperer]

𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙼𝚎 𝙹𝚘𝚢

1991

Neverland Ranch

Word Count: 10.6k

The air was thick with a comforting silence, the kind that wraps around you like a warm embrace, coaxing you into a sense of peace. The faint scent of baby powder lingered in the room, mingling with the sweet, delicate fragrance of your two-month-old baby nestled against your chest. You cradled her gently as she nursed, her tiny fingers occasionally brushing your skin, her soft breaths steady and rhythmic. Her deep brown eyes, the same shade as her father's, fought to stay open, curious and eager to explore more of the world, though the late hour weighed heavy on her eyelids. The red glow of the alarm clock blinked quietly from the dresser beside you, marking the time—midnight.

It had been a long, solitary day. The spacious house felt even larger when it was just you and your baby girl, the quiet occasionally broken by her soft coos and tiny cries. Michael had been away in the studio again, working late into the night, though he always made time for you and your daughter, even if it was in the small hours. His love was never in question, his presence felt even in his absence.

You sat in the old rocking chair, the gentle creak as you swayed back and forth blending with the stillness of the room. The window framed the night sky, where a crescent moon hung low, casting a silvery glow across your face and your daughter's. Her dark lashes fluttered, catching the moonlight as she slowly succumbed to sleep. You exhaled softly, letting yourself relax fully, the weariness of the day fading. The remnants of your earlier bath clung to your skin—the rich scent of cocoa butter soothing you, a small indulgence you rarely afforded yourself these days. The black satin of your nightgown felt luxurious, smooth against your skin, the fabric cool yet comforting. Your hair was still damp, but the slight chill didn't bother you.

Motherhood had changed you—deepened you, softened you in ways you hadn't expected. It had changed Michael, too. You saw it in the way he looked at your daughter, a new tenderness that you recognized from the way he had always doted on his nieces and nephews. But this was different. This was his own flesh and blood, and the love he had for her was palpable, even when he was away.

Your daughter stirred slightly, her lips unlatching from you, and you glanced down to see her eyes closed now, her breathing steady. Her skin, smooth as velvet, was as precious to you as any treasure. Carefully, you rose from the rocking chair, each step deliberate and quiet as you moved across the nursery. The crib stood waiting, the soft bedding already warm from the night's embrace. You leaned down gently, placing her into it with the utmost care. Her mouth made the little clicking sound you had come to adore from day one, her tiny lips forming a faint smile as sleep carried her off.

"Goodnight, princess," you whispered, pressing a kiss to your fingers and then to her cheek, the gesture as much a promise as a farewell for the night.

As you stood in the doorway, you cast one more glance at her peaceful form, illuminated by the soft nightlight in the corner. The door closed with a faint click, left ajar just enough to hear her if she stirred, though the baby monitor gave you peace of mind.

Descending the stairs, you heard it—the soft, familiar notes of a piano drifting through the house. Michael. Your heart swelled. His music always had a way of filling the empty spaces, his melodies woven from instinct and emotion. He played not from sheet music, but from the heart, each chord a reflection of his feelings.

When you reached the bottom step, the wooden floorboards creaked slightly underfoot, the sound almost a companion to the music. The soft glow of candlelight flickered in the living room, two small flames casting shadows at the end of the piano where he sat. His fingers moved effortlessly across the keys, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration but relaxed, the music soothing the quiet of the night.

You stood in the doorway for a moment longer, watching him as the soft glow of candlelight flickered against the walls, casting gentle shadows across the room. The warmth from the fireplace seeped into the air, mingling with the tender chords of the piano and the love that flowed effortlessly between you both. In that moment, the house no longer felt cavernous or empty—it felt alive, like the very walls breathed with the memories you had begun building here. This was home, a sanctuary you had both created together, and even in the quietest moments, its warmth enveloped you.

Slowly, you approached him, your bare feet barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. Standing behind him, you gently ran your hands over his broad shoulders, feeling the tightness in his muscles. He had been working for hours, and the strain was clear in the way he sat hunched over the keys. But as soon as your fingers touched him, he relaxed. The tension melted away, replaced by the familiar comfort of your touch. His scent, fresh from his shower, lingered—a mix of soap and something distinctly him, an intoxicating blend that always made your heart flutter.

You squeezed his shoulders softly before moving to the side of the piano, meeting his gaze. His deep brown eyes, so full of warmth and love, met yours. His damp curls framed his face, falling in just the right way to make him look effortlessly handsome. You couldn't help but smile. "Coming to bed?" you asked, your voice soft, inviting.

Michael nodded, though his fingers still hovered over the keys, not quite pressing them. "Soon," he replied. "I've got this melody stuck in my head. I told Teddy about it at the studio earlier, but for some reason, I just couldn't get it out." His fingers moved lightly over the piano, as though coaxing the music from it without sound, like he was trying to feel the notes before they emerged.

You smiled, running your fingers along the polished surface of the grand piano, the cool wood smooth beneath your fingertips. "Need me to stay up with you?" you asked, knowing how much these moments mattered to him, how the music was often his way of unwinding, of finding peace after a long day.

He shrugged lightly but with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I could use some company," he admitted. "Plus, I missed my wife. It was hard enough being away from you and our baby girl all day."

He scooted over on the piano bench, patting the space beside him. You walked over and settled next to him, the warmth of his body immediately comforting as you rested your head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer as you both sat in the quiet. The flicker of the candles, the soft hum of the night, and the gentle weight of his presence made everything feel right.

"I missed you too," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I was so happy to see you when you came home." Your fingers found his hand, still resting lightly on the keys, and you traced the back of it, feeling the familiar texture of his skin.

He took your hand in his, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles in that tender way he always did, a silent expression of affection. "The way your eyes lit up when I walked in," he said, turning his head slightly to meet your gaze. "You looked so happy."

You tilted your head up to look at him, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Of course I was happy. I missed you, silly. What else?"

He chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I know, baby," he said, his voice warm and teasing. "I'm just messing with you."

Before you could respond, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering as if savoring the moment, the closeness, the feeling of you against him. You closed your eyes, breathing him in—his familiar scent, fresh yet comforting, and the warmth of his body radiating through you. It was like time stopped for a brief moment, and all that existed was the shared silence between you, the stillness filled with love and understanding. You felt exactly where you were meant to be, safe in his presence, surrounded by his quiet strength and tenderness.

With a gentle exhale, he placed his hand back on the piano keys, his fingers poised delicately over them as he took a deep breath. Then, without hesitation, he began to play again, letting the same chords flow out as naturally as a heartbeat. Though Michael wasn't classically trained, there was something about the way his fingers danced across the keys that made it seem effortless. He played from somewhere deep within, letting the music find its way through him, a reflection of his emotions.

You leaned into his shoulder, the warmth of him grounding you as you listened. The chords filled the room, soft yet rich, each note a thread that wove through your heart, warming you from the inside out. It was as if every sound he produced carried with it a piece of his love, the music wrapping around you both in an invisible embrace. The joy, the happiness, the simple peace of being together in this moment—it was all there in the way he played.

Quietly, he began to hum to himself, the low sound barely audible but enough to send a shiver through you. His voice, unfiltered and raw, was one of your favorite things. You loved the way he sounded when it was just the two of you, no pressure, no performance—just him, vulnerable and real. It was moments like these that made you fall even deeper in love with him, the intimacy of hearing him like this, unguarded.

But suddenly, he stopped playing. The music cut off, leaving a stillness that felt jarring in contrast to the warmth it had brought. You opened your eyes, lifting your head from his shoulder to look up at him, concern flickering across your face. His expression had changed—his eyes were distant, as if lost in thought, his brow furrowed slightly.

"What's wrong?" you asked, your voice soft but laced with worry.

Michael shook his head gently, as if pulling himself out of whatever thought had distracted him. "Nothing," he murmured, but there was a weight to his voice that said otherwise. He turned his head to look at you, his deep brown eyes searching yours. "What did you feel when I played that?" he asked, his voice low, almost as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

You thought for a moment, letting the warmth of the music replay in your mind. "I felt... warm. Happy. Joy," you said softly, the words slipping out naturally. It was the truth, after all. His music had always had that effect on you, making you feel enveloped in a love so deep it was almost tangible.

Michael stared at you, his gaze lingering before he looked away again, his fingers brushing over the keys absentmindedly. "Joy," he repeated quietly, as if tasting the word on his tongue, rolling it around in his mind. Then he looked back down at you, a slow smile spreading across his face, lighting up his features. "I love you," he said, his voice filled with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

"I love you too," you replied softly, your voice just as full of meaning.

He shook his head slightly, the smile still lingering. "No, seriously," he said, his tone deepening. "I know I say it all the time, but I really mean it. And when you said that—'joy'—it just... clicked. I think I'll call it Joy," he said, his smile widening. "You're really helpful at times, you know?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with playful affection.

You couldn't help but nudge him in the arm, a grin pulling at your lips. "Shut up," you muttered, pretending to be annoyed, though you knew he could see right through you.

"What?" he laughed softly, his voice smooth and warm. "I'm telling the truth, baby. When you're around me, you inspire me. You... you bring me joy. When I thought of this melody, I thought of you." His voice softened at the end, his words laced with affection so deep it made your chest ache in the best way.

You sat up slowly, turning to meet his eyes fully. "I love when I inspire you," you said, your voice barely a whisper, but the weight of your words hung in the air between you.

Michael's eyes darkened with emotion as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing against yours, his breath warm on your skin. "You always inspire me," he whispered, his voice deep, full of love. "Everything I do, everything that comes to mind, is because of you—because of how much I love you."

The quiet stretched out between you, the only sound the faint crackling of the fireplace and the soft flicker of the candles burning low. The room felt alive with the energy of your love, a warmth that wasn't just physical but emotional, deep, and ever-present.

You leaned in, closing the small distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss. The outside world blurred into nothing, leaving only the warmth of his body, the scent of him, the way his lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. It felt like the universe had shrunk down to this one perfect moment—the soft glow of the candles, the faint crackling of the fireplace, and the palpable love that filled the space between you. When you finally pulled away, your foreheads pressed gently together, the closeness still electric. Your eyes locked, and it was as though you could see every unspoken word, every emotion flickering through his gaze like the warm candlelight around you.

"Ready for bed?" you asked, your voice soft, almost as if you didn't want to break the moment.

Michael shook his head slowly, a slight smile playing on his lips as his fingers brushed against the piano keys again, coaxing out a soft, dreamy melody. "No," he murmured, his voice low and relaxed. "I'm still wide awake."

You stood up from the seat beside him, your black satin nightgown falling effortlessly over your body as you adjusted it. The smooth fabric skimmed your skin, a gentle reminder of how comfortable and at ease you felt here with him. You were about to walk away, your bare feet making the faintest sound against the floor, when you felt his hand reach out, fingers curling gently around yours, stopping you in your tracks.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice tender, yet with a hint of playful curiosity, his grip on your hand firm but warm.

"I'm just getting a drink," you replied, your lips curling into a soft smile. "You want one?"

Michael shook his head, but instead of letting go, he pulled you back toward him with a gentle yet insistent tug, guiding you back to the piano. His eyes met yours, and there was something different there now, something deeper, more intense. "I just want you right here," he said, his voice husky, filled with desire as his hands found your hips.

He reached behind you, his fingers moving deftly to close the top of the piano, silencing the keys with a soft thud. His grip on your waist tightened, and in one smooth motion, he lifted you onto the glossy surface of the piano. The cool wood met the bare skin of your legs, sending a shiver through you, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his body as he stepped between your legs, his presence overpowering in the best possible way.

You looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat as his eyes locked onto yours, dark with longing. "What?" you whispered, your voice barely audible, your fingers already finding their way into his damp curls. You combed through them gently, feeling the softness of his hair between your fingers, the wet strands clinging slightly to your skin. He didn't answer right away, but the look in his eyes said everything. He wanted you, here and now, with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

Without a word, Michael leaned in, his hand slipping beneath your chin, tilting your face up toward his. His lips found yours again, but this time the kiss was different—deeper, more urgent. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that sent a wave of heat rushing through you, his breath warm against your skin. You kissed him back, first with light, teasing pecks that quickly turned into something more, something deeper. The kiss became slow, sensual, each movement deliberate, as if you had all the time in the world.

His hand remained under your chin, his thumb brushing softly along the edge of your jawline, the simple touch enough to make your skin tingle. His other hand moved to your waist, the heat of his palm seeping through the fabric of your nightgown as his fingers gripped you gently but firmly, pulling you closer, leaving no space between you. You could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat through his chest, matching the rapid fluttering of your own.

The kiss deepened, his lips pressing harder against yours, and you let out a soft sigh as you melted into him, the sensation of his hands, his mouth, his body so close to yours overwhelming in the most beautiful way. His thumb continued to caress your skin as he tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss even more, his mouth moving over yours with a slow, deliberate sensuality that left you breathless. It was as though nothing else mattered in the world but this moment, the connection between you, the desire that simmered just beneath the surface, ready to ignite.

You could feel the tension in his body as his hand slid from your waist, moving slowly up your back, his fingers tracing the length of your spine through the satin fabric. Each touch sent a spark through you, your body responding instinctively, leaning into him, wanting more. You broke the kiss for a brief moment, just long enough to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his as you both lingered in the silence, the air around you thick with unspoken words and shared desire.

His eyes never left yours, their deep brown depths filled with love, desire, and an unmistakable need. His lips, still slightly parted, seemed to hover just above your skin, as though he were breathing in every inch of you, committing this moment to memory. When he kissed you again, it was different. His mouth was soft, yes, but insistent, each kiss filled with a silent plea, each touch telling you more than words ever could.

His hands slid down your sides, fingers tracing the smooth silk of your satin nightgown before dipping underneath it. He gripped your thighs, the fabric bunching in his hands as he pushed it upward, the cool air meeting your skin where his warm palms had been. His lips broke away from yours, trailing down your jawline, leaving a line of gentle kisses in their wake. You could feel his breath on your neck as his lips pressed against the delicate skin, sucking lightly, leaving a warmth that seemed to bloom beneath his touch.

"Michael..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, more breath than sound. You tilted your head, offering him more access, feeling the heat of his mouth as it worked its way down the curve of your neck. His hands continued their journey, rubbing slow circles into your thighs, squeezing firmly, grounding you in this moment.

As his lips moved further, down the center of your throat and towards your chest, you felt the way his body leaned into yours, each kiss deeper, hungrier. His lips brushed over the pendant that rested just above your heart, a soft, reverent kiss that made your breath catch in your throat. You opened your eyes briefly, meeting his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes made your heart pound. He was watching you, his every movement deliberate, as if memorizing your reactions.

Your eyelids fluttered closed again as you gave yourself over to the sensations—the feel of his lips pressing gently, but with a purpose, against your chest, his hands sliding higher up your thighs until they rested at the soft curve where they met your hips. His kisses were tender, yet filled with a passion that made your skin tingle, your body yearning for more. Every touch felt like it was designed to remind you of how deeply he loved you, how much he cherished these quiet, intimate moments.

"I love you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin, the words sending a shiver through you. His hands slid up your arms now, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as they reached the straps of your nightgown. Slowly, almost agonizingly, he pulled them down, the delicate fabric sliding off your shoulders and pooling at your waist. You were bare before him, exposed to his gaze, and yet, in his eyes, all you could see was love.

His lips found your breast, brushing softly across the skin before he kissed it, gentle at first, then with more intent. His large hand cupped your left breast, his thumb grazing your nipple as his mouth left a trail of kisses. His lips hovered there for a moment, his eyes lifting to meet yours. He waited, as though asking for permission, and you gave it to him with the softest of nods.

When his lips brushed over your nipple, the sensation sent a shockwave through your body. You gasped at the sudden warmth, the way his tongue flicked out, teasing you with soft, deliberate strokes. He flicked it again, slower this time, drawing out the moment, savoring your reactions. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging gently, urging him on as the warmth of his mouth enveloped you.

A low hum of satisfaction vibrated through him as he closed his lips around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he began to suck gently. The sensation was overwhelming, the warmth of his mouth, the gentle suction, and the way his tongue moved with such precision. He tasted your milk, and a soft sound of appreciation escaped his lips as he continued, his eyes closing in contentment.

You watched him, your breath coming in soft, shallow waves, your body responding to his touch with a kind of need you hadn't realized was so intense. The nightgown had slipped further, the fabric now pooled completely around your waist, leaving your bare skin exposed to the cool night air. But you hardly noticed, too focused on the feeling of his mouth on you, the way his hands gripped your hips, keeping you close as he leaned you back slightly against the cool, polished wood of the piano.

The only sounds in the room were the soft crackling of the fire and the quiet hums of pleasure that escaped his lips as he continued to suck gently at your breast. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every moment, every taste. The candles flickered around you, casting soft shadows across the room, the golden light reflecting off the surface of the piano, creating an intimate glow that seemed to wrap around you both.

You arched your back slightly, pushing yourself closer to him, lost in the warmth of his touch, the feel of his mouth on your skin. Every stroke of his tongue, every soft pull of his lips sent waves of pleasure through you, your body responding to him with a quiet urgency. Your fingers curled in his hair, holding him there as he continued, his breath hot against your skin, his hands still firmly gripping your hips.

"Michael," you breathed again, your voice trembling with the depth of your longing and love. His name barely passed your lips before he captured you once more in that gaze, his eyes a perfect storm of desire and tenderness. You could see it all — how much he adored you, the reverence in his touch, the devotion he showed with every movement. He didn't need to speak; his actions said everything.

His mouth stayed latched onto your breast, drawing softly from you, the warmth of your milk dripping slowly down his chin. His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, his gaze never leaving yours. He looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, as if drinking in more than just your milk — as if he were taking in every piece of you, body and soul. You whimpered softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Michael... please," you begged, not even sure what you were pleading for, but knowing that you needed him, all of him.

You caressed his face, your fingers running along his jaw, feeling the wetness there as he continued to suck gently, savoring every drop of your milk like it was the most precious thing in the world. His tongue flicked out one last time, teasing your sensitive nipple before he finally pulled away, the remnants of your milk glistening on his lips, trailing down his chin and collecting in the cleft.

He stood before you, his breathing ragged, eyes half-lidded, staring at you as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered. You slowly slid off the piano, your nightgown slipping off your body and pooling silently at your feet, leaving you standing bare before him. His eyes drank you in, moving over every inch of your exposed skin with an intensity that made your body flush under his gaze.

"You taste good," he murmured, his voice low and rough, thick with desire.

You smirked slightly, reaching up to wipe the milk from his chin with your thumb. "And you made a mess," you teased softly, your voice laced with affection.

Michael chuckled, the sound deep and rich as it reverberated in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, his hands exploring your body, roaming over the softness of your skin. His fingers found your breasts again, squeezing gently. A soft squirt of milk escaped from your left breast, making him laugh lightly, the sound vibrating between your bodies.

"That's hot," he murmured, his eyes gleaming as he looked at you.

You blushed, feeling the heat between you intensify, but you wanted more — needed more. You reached up, taking his hands from your breasts and placing them back around your waist, grounding yourself in the warmth of his embrace. "I want you," you whispered, your voice carrying all the weight of your desire.

His breath caught at your words, and he leaned in, his voice a mere whisper against your lips. "I want you too," he echoed, his words thick with meaning.

Your hands moved slowly down his chest, feeling the smooth fabric of his shirt beneath your fingertips. You tugged at the hem, pulling it upward, and Michael raised his arms, helping you remove it. His gold chain slid down his chest as he stood before you, his body now as bare as your own. His skin glowed in the soft candlelight, the muscles of his chest and abdomen taut and defined, his beauty leaving you breathless for a moment.

You ran your hands up his torso, feeling the heat of his skin, the strength of his body beneath your fingers. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath as you touched him, savoring the connection between you. "Take me," you whispered, your voice filled with both need and adoration.

Michael paused for a moment, staring at you with a gaze so intense that it sent a shiver down your spine. Slowly, he pulled back, guiding you gently down onto the piano bench. His hands were steady but soft, as though he were handling something fragile and precious. He kneeled before you, his large hands moving up your legs, spreading them open with a tenderness that made your breath hitch.

"Lay back, baby," he whispered, his voice low and soothing as he positioned you. You laid back against the cool wood of the piano, the sensation of the polished surface a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch.

His hands explored your legs, his thumbs grazing your inner thighs, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. You gasped softly, the anticipation building as his hands worked their way up, brushing over your folds with a featherlight touch that sent a jolt of pleasure through you.

He didn't rush. His lips pressed to the inside of your thighs, kissing his way slowly upward, cherishing every inch of you. Each kiss lingered, as if he were savoring every moment, every taste of your skin. His breath was hot against you, making your body quiver in anticipation.

His lips traveled up your torso, over the soft curve of your belly and the swell of your breasts, kissing each spot with a reverence that made your heart swell with love. He kissed up your neck, finally meeting your lips in a slow, deep kiss. His mouth was wet, his kisses tender but passionate, his tongue flicking out to tease yours, pulling soft moans from your lips.

But just as you were getting lost in the heat of his kiss, he pulled away, his lips leaving a trail of warmth down your body. You gasped softly as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses down your belly, and finally, his tongue flicked out to tease you, barely brushing over your folds. The sensation was electric, making you arch against the piano, your body trembling under his touch.

His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as his mouth worked its magic, his tongue moving with slow, deliberate strokes. Every flick of his tongue, every kiss against your most sensitive spot sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, building into something almost unbearable.

"Michael..." you moaned, your voice breathy and soft as your fingers tangled deeper into his curls. Your body surrendered completely to him, every nerve attuned to the sensations he was creating, the warmth of his tongue sending electric pulses through you. The intensity of it made your breath hitch, your hips arching instinctively toward him, aching for more of his touch.

His tongue moved expertly, flicking over your sensitive nub with precision, tasting your sweet arousal as it coated his lips and tongue. The heat between your bodies intensified as he adjusted his position, lifting your left leg to spread you wider, opening you up completely to him. Every flick of his tongue, every stroke, was deliberate, designed to drive you wild. He didn't take his eyes off you, watching the way your body moved, the way your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, how your hands gripped the polished wood of the piano, your knuckles white with tension.

He teased you, his tongue dipping down to your entrance, flicking in and out, tasting you deeply before moving back up to your clit, licking with agonizing slowness. The intensity built higher, each touch more torturous than the last, your body trembling beneath him.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he replaced his tongue with his fingers, easing his middle and ring finger inside you. The intrusion was perfect, filling you completely as his fingers curled inside, pressing against that sweet, tender spot deep within you. His lips found your clit again, wrapping around it, sucking with gentle precision, drawing more moans from you that you could no longer contain.

"Baby... please," you whimpered, your voice trembling with need as your free hand gripped your breast, squeezing as the pleasure rolled through your body. Your eyes closed tightly, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you tried, unsuccessfully, to hold back the sounds of your pleasure.

But Michael wouldn't have it. He paused, just for a moment, murmuring against your folds, his voice deep and commanding. "Let me hear you."

The low growl of his voice was enough to unravel you. Your moans spilled freely from your lips, his name escaping in breathless, staccato gasps. The way he moved, the way his fingers worked inside you, was enough to make your vision blur with pleasure.

Your arousal slicked his lips and chin, dripping down onto his neck and soaking into the fabric of the piano bench beneath you. It didn't matter. The world outside was forgotten, lost in the haze of heat and need that enveloped you both. All you could feel was him — his mouth, his hands, the way he made love to you with every kiss, every touch.

His fingers curled inside you, finding that spot again, pressing against it with just the right amount of pressure. A sharp whimper escaped your throat, your body reacting immediately, your hips lifting off the bench as the pleasure tore through you. Michael's eyes gleamed as he noticed your reaction, a knowing smile tugging at his lips before he pressed his fingers harder, repeating the motion that had your body shaking.

This time, the moan that escaped your lips was louder, uncontrollable. Your hand flew to the closed top of the piano, gripping it for dear life as your nails dug into the wood, the cool surface grounding you as Michael continued his assault on your senses. The wet, obscene sounds of your arousal filled the room, mixing with the soft crackle of the fire and the flickering candlelight, heightening the intensity of the moment.

Michael groaned softly against you, clearly aroused by the sight of you coming undone under his touch, the way you responded to him. He took pleasure in your pleasure, knowing how well he pleased you, how perfectly he knew your body. He could feel your muscles tightening, your core clenching around his fingers as you edged closer to the precipice of release.

Your body burned with the intensity of it, the heat pooling low in your belly, building to a crescendo that had you trembling beneath him. Your breathing grew ragged, each gasp sharper than the last as your core ached for release, the tight coil inside you ready to snap.

"Michael..." you gasped, your voice shaking as the pleasure became too much to bear, your body quivering with anticipation. You were so close, the pressure building, every nerve on fire. Your back arched off the bench, the tension ready to break, your release teetering on the edge, desperate to come undone.

And with one final flick of his tongue, one more expert curl of his fingers inside you, the tension in your body snapped. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, violent and all-consuming, pulling you under its powerful currents. The moan that ripped from your throat was involuntary, primal, your body convulsing with pleasure as he held you in place, not letting you escape the intensity of the moment.

Michael didn't stop. He knew you loved that extra push, the way he prolonged your release, letting it wash over you again and again. His lips glistened with your arousal, dripping down his face, but his fingers kept their steady rhythm inside you. They pumped in and out, curling deeper, pressing hard against that sweet spot, sending shockwaves through your body as another wave built up faster than you could anticipate.

"Michael... please," you whimpered, your voice breaking. Your hand came off the piano, desperate for an anchor, and he reached for you without hesitation, holding your hand tightly in his. His thumb brushed soothing circles over your knuckles, a tender contrast to the intensity of what his other hand was doing.

"You want to cum again, baby?" His voice was low, laced with need, yet soft enough to ground you in this whirlwind of sensation.

"Yes..." you breathed, the word barely leaving your lips as your body trembled in his grasp. Your core tightened again, burning with the need for another release, your muscles clenching around his fingers as your body prepared to unravel once more.

"Look at me, beautiful," Michael said, his voice coaxing, guiding.

You forced your eyes open, your gaze meeting his, your brows furrowing as you fought the overwhelming pleasure. He let go of your hand for just a moment, gently cradling the back of your head, holding you steady, forcing you to maintain eye contact. The intensity in his eyes was palpable, dark and burning with desire, but there was something else — love, devotion, the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that existed in his world.

"I'm close," you moaned, your voice a broken whisper, your body trembling uncontrollably.

His eyes never left yours, his gaze locked onto you, watching every tremble, every moan, every twitch of your body. His fingers moved faster, harder, relentless in their pursuit of your pleasure. "Let go," he murmured, his voice commanding yet full of affection.

You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the moans threatening to escape, but the look he gave you, that smoldering, possessive look, made you stop. You let go of your lip, and with one last thrust of his fingers, your body exploded. Your release hit harder than before, your muscles tightening, your back arching as a loud moan spilled from your lips. The force of your orgasm rocked through you, leaving you breathless, your legs trembling violently, toes curling as the pleasure took over every inch of your being.

"Michael... I can't—" you gasped, your legs shaking uncontrollably, your body exhausted from the intensity.

Slowly, he eased the pace of his fingers, gently sliding them out of you. They were soaked, his fingertips wrinkled from your wetness. Without breaking eye contact, he brought them to his lips, sucking off the evidence of your pleasure, savoring it as if it were the sweetest nectar.

Your breathing was heavy, ragged, as you watched him, that simple act sending another ripple of arousal through you. The way his tongue ran over his fingers, the way his eyes remained locked on yours, made you want him all over again.

"What?" Michael asked softly, pulling his fingers from his mouth with a soft pop, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You shook your head, still struggling to catch your breath. "Nothing, baby... it's nothing."

He chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through his chest, sending a fresh wave of heat through you. "I love you, beautiful."

You let out a deep breath, your heart still racing. "I love you too... but can we take this to the room?" you asked, your voice soft, a smile playing on your lips.

Michael chuckled again, shaking his head with amusement. "No, I'm finishing what I started right here." He extended his hand to you, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes.

You took his hand, and he gently helped you sit up, your legs weak and unsteady beneath you. Carefully, he pulled you to your feet, his arms wrapping around you protectively, holding you close as he sensed how fragile you felt in the moment.

Michael's eyes flicked over to the piano, that mischievous smirk returning to his face. "I have an idea," he murmured, his voice playful. Without waiting for a response, he placed his hands on your waist and lifted you effortlessly, walking you to the edge of the piano, seating you on top of it with ease.

"Michael..." you said softly, raising a brow as you watched him with curiosity.

He glanced up at you, his hands already moving to pull down his pajama pants. "Yes?" he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

"What if we break it?" you asked, half-serious but unable to hide the amusement in your voice.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he leaned in closer, his warm hand cupping your cheek. The way his thumb tenderly stroked your skin sent shivers down your spine, but his voice was soothing, steadying you in the moment. "We won't, and even if we did, I'd never let you get hurt," he murmured, his tone a promise, filled with such warmth and care that it was impossible not to melt into him. His eyes, dark and full of love, gazed down at you with that familiar tenderness that had always made you feel safe.

"I promise," he added softly, brushing his lips against your forehead.

You gave him a small, trusting nod, your heart swelling with both love and desire. His words, that gentle assurance, was all you needed. "I trust you," you whispered, and it wasn't just the words. It was the truth. You trusted him with everything—your heart, your body, your soul.

His lips curled into a soft, knowing smile as he leaned in to kiss you, sealing the promise between the two of you. The kiss was slow, deliberate, his lips warm and soft as they molded against yours. Each press of his mouth conveyed what words couldn't—the depth of his love, the passion that simmered just beneath the surface, and the way you were his, completely, just as he was yours.

When you pulled back from the kiss, your eyes wandered down his body. The firelight cast shadows across his skin, highlighting the fine sheen of sweat that glistened across his bare chest. And there, through the loose fabric of his pajama pants, his arousal was unmistakable. Your breath hitched slightly at the sight, the way it tented the soft cotton, leaving no room for imagination.

You watched, your gaze hungry, as his hands moved with a deliberate slowness to tug down the waistband of his pajama pants. The fabric slipped over his hips, and with a soft movement, his hardened length was freed. It stood proud, thick, heavy, pulsing with every beat of his heart. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of him—he was big, the thick skin covering his tip, his veins prominent and pulsing beneath the smooth surface.

Michael stroked himself slowly, his large hand wrapping around his girthy shaft. The sight was mesmerizing, your eyes locked on the way his fingers moved, peeling back the skin with each slow, deliberate stroke, revealing the blushing tip that matched the color of his lips. Your gaze lingered on the soft patches of his vitiligo, adorning his shaft like a masterpiece etched onto his skin. It was beautiful, every inch of him.

Without breaking his gaze from you, he leaned in slightly, his free hand reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing your eyes back to his. His thumb gently pulled down your bottom lip, brushing over it in a way that made your breath catch. "My beautiful girl," he whispered, his voice thick with affection and desire.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, a blush spreading across your face at his words. Your heart fluttered in your chest, skipping a beat as you gazed into his eyes. He had this effect on you—making you feel cherished, loved, desired, all at once.

He moved even closer, his body slotting perfectly between your legs. You let out a soft breath as he grabbed your thighs, lifting them gently to rest over his broad shoulders. His thick length brushed teasingly against your inner thighs, the heat of him palpable, sending waves of anticipation rippling through your body.

"Comfortable?" he asked, his voice soft yet filled with that teasing edge.

You nodded, your heart racing in your chest as you felt the heat of him so close, the tension between you building, crackling like the fire that flickered behind you.

Michael leaned in even further, his lips brushing feather-light kisses across your mouth. His teasing kisses made you ache for more, the way he hovered just out of reach each time you tried to kiss him, pulling away with that infuriatingly playful smile.

"Michael, please," you whimpered, your voice needy, desperate for the connection only he could give.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest as he finally gave in, his lips crashing into yours, kissing you slowly, deeply, with all the intensity you craved. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring, claiming you in a way that made your toes curl. His kiss was demanding yet tender, pushing you further into the haze of desire that clouded your mind.

As he kissed you, his other hand held his length, guiding it toward your slick folds. The tip brushed teasingly over your entrance, sending jolts of pleasure through your body as he dragged it back and forth, coating himself with your arousal. Your whimpers were muffled against his lips, your body trembling with anticipation.

Slowly, he pressed the tip against your entrance, slipping inside with deliberate slowness. Your breath hitched at the feeling, a moan slipping from your lips as he eased in, inch by inch, filling you completely. The stretch of him was overwhelming, the way his thick length stretched you out making you gasp for breath.

Your hands gripped the edge of the piano, fingers digging into the polished wood as you held on, your body trembling with the fullness of him. Inch by inch, he slid deeper, his shaft disappearing inside of you until he was buried to the hilt, his body pressed firmly against yours.

He stilled for a moment, his forehead gently resting against yours as both of you panted in unison, your breaths mingling in the charged air between you. His breath was hot against your lips, and the rhythm of his chest matched the frantic beat of your own heart, as if your bodies had found a single rhythm, a single pulse. You could feel the heavy thud of his heart as it echoed against your skin, the weight of him pressing down, grounding you in the intensity of the moment.

For a heartbeat, everything stilled—the world beyond the two of you faded, leaving only this connection, this intimate joining. The warmth of the fire crackled softly in the background, its orange glow casting long shadows across your bodies, but it was his warmth that you clung to, his presence that filled the space around you.

His hands gripped your waist with gentle but firm possession, his fingers digging slightly into your flesh as he began to move. Slowly, torturously, he pulled out just enough, the drag of his length leaving you gasping, only to thrust back into you with a slow, deliberate stroke. His eyes, dark and intense, never left yours, even as he rested his forehead against yours. The weight of his gaze was too much and yet not enough—those eyes held you, pinned you in place, as his body moved, as you moved with him.

Your gazes dipped down at the same time, watching the way his length slid in and out of you, glistening with a slick sheen of your arousal. Each movement was deliberate, precise, every inch of him claiming you, marking this moment with the slow, sensual rhythm of his thrusts. His thickness stretched you, filled you completely, and the sight of your bodies connected only made you feel more intoxicated, more lost in him.

Michael's eyes traveled back up, locking onto your face, taking in the way your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, your eyes still drawn to the connection between you. His gaze softened with something deeper than lust, something that felt like a promise—a devotion that made your chest swell. With a slow, deliberate motion, he wrapped one large hand gently around your neck, his thumb brushing over your pulse, feeling the rapid beat beneath his fingers. He tilted his head, leaning down to press his lips to the sensitive spot just behind your ear, his hot breath fanning across your skin. His lips were soft but insistent, kissing, licking at that spot that made you tremble every time.

"Michael..." you moaned softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, a plea tangled in the need that pulsed through you.

His breath hitched against your ear, ragged and uneven as he whispered back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "I love you," he breathed, the words a gentle exhale of air but filled with so much emotion that they settled into your bones. His hips thrust deeper with the words, his length burying itself fully inside of you, a whimper slipping from your lips at the overwhelming fullness, the way he reached depths that made your entire body shudder.

Your hands flew to the edge of the piano, gripping it tightly as if you could hold onto something tangible amidst the flood of sensations. Your knuckles turned white from the force of your grip, the polished wood cool beneath your fingers as you clung to it. His thrusts were slow, achingly slow, but so deep, you could feel every inch of him, every deliberate movement as he pressed deeper and deeper inside of you. God, it felt like he was in your stomach, his thickness stretching you almost too much, yet it wasn't enough. The way he rolled his hips, grinding into you with each thrust, his body pressing against yours, was driving you wild, and yet you loved every second of it.

His tongue flicked out, tracing the curve of your earlobe, sucking it lightly, sending a shiver of pleasure straight through your core. Every touch from him made you tremble, your body responding instinctively to his every movement. He had you unraveling in his hands, his touch both tender and possessive, a contradiction that made you weak.

You closed your eyes, letting the sensations wash over you—the slow drag of his length as he moved in and out of you, the wet sounds of your bodies meeting filling the room, the warmth of his breath in your ear, and the way his lips whispered love against your skin. Every movement, every kiss, every whisper made you feel cherished, made you feel desired in a way only Michael could make you feel.

As the tension built, he sped up, his thrusts becoming slightly faster, more insistent, and the wet sounds of your arousal mixed with the crackling of the fire, creating a symphony of pleasure. His breathing grew heavier, more ragged, and you could feel the way his body trembled slightly as he fought to hold back. Inside of you, he pulsed, twitched, his length jumping with each clench of your walls around him.

Neither of you wanted to stop. The moment felt too perfect, too intimate to break, a memory etched in both your hearts forever.

"Oh god..." you moaned, the words torn from your throat as he hit that sweet spot deep inside of you. The angle of his hips was perfect, the way he thrust into you with precision making your vision blur with pleasure. He took his hand off your neck, replacing it with his lips, kissing a trail down your throat, marking you with love. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, as if you were something sweet, something he had craved for too long.

His lips moved lower, sucking at the tender flesh of your neck, leaving small marks in his wake as he claimed you. The fire beside you crackled softly, but the real heat was between you, the way he moved, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours. It was almost too much, the pleasure building inside of you like a wave ready to crash, but you wanted more, needed more.

"Michael... I..." Your words dissolved into breathless gasps, unable to complete the thought as his thrusts intensified, each one a jolt of pleasure that sent your body spiraling. Every movement was deliberate, every inch of him filling you completely, stretching you in a way that left you trembling and helpless beneath him. Your senses were overwhelmed, consumed by the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his hips, and the possessive way he claimed every part of you.

He didn't stop, didn't relent. His body pressed firmly against yours, grounding you with the weight of him, the heat of him, and the relentless drive of his movements. Each thrust was deep, purposeful, designed to take you apart piece by piece. His lips, never straying far from your skin, trailed back up to your ear, his breath warm and ragged as it fanned across your flushed face.

"You feel so good, baby, so damn good," he whispered, his voice low and strained, thick with need. The praise hit you hard, sending a shiver down your spine as his words wrapped around you like a velvet caress.

A desperate whimper escaped your lips, your body acting on instinct as your hand shot out from its grip on the piano, clutching at his waist. Your fingers slid down, gripping onto the firm curve of his behind, feeling the way his muscles tensed and flexed with every powerful thrust. You held onto him like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth. "Don't stop, Michael, please," you begged, your voice trembling with desperation.

"I won't stop," he promised, his voice rough and breathless in your ear, every word laced with raw desire. "Not until you cum for me." His voice was dark, commanding, yet filled with a tenderness that made your heart swell even as your body burned with need. He was close too, you could feel it in the way his thrusts became more erratic, more urgent, but he wasn't ready to give in yet. He wanted to savor every second, to draw it out as long as he could.

Your entire body trembled beneath him, your mind lost in the sensation of being utterly consumed by him. Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire, your core tightening with every deep stroke, with every breathy grunt that escaped him as he moved within you.

Your grip on his behind tightened, fingers digging into the taut muscles as you pulled him closer, deeper, needing him more than you could put into words. "You like the way I make you feel, baby?" he murmured against your neck, his voice soft but laced with a primal edge, the vibrations of his words sending shudders through your entire body.

"Yes, Michael," you cried out, your voice breaking as his thrusts became harder, deeper. Each one hit you like a wave, crashing over you, pulling you under, leaving you gasping for air. You could feel him everywhere—inside you, around you—his presence overwhelming, intoxicating. He was in control, and you loved it.

He shifted, his hands sliding beneath you to grip your behind in both hands, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you even closer to the edge of the piano, positioning you just right. His thrusts grew even heavier, each one slamming into you with a force that left you breathless, your body arching into him, desperate for more. The sensation was almost too much, the stretch of him, the heat, the pressure—it was everything.

Then, with a devilish smirk, he changed his pace, slowing down, teasing you with deep, languid strokes that left you gasping. He was edging you, holding you right on the precipice of pleasure, bringing you to the brink but not letting you fall. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a hunger that matched your own.

"Michael..." you whimpered, your voice broken and desperate, your body trembling with need as he continued his slow, torturous pace. The pleasure built higher and higher, the pressure inside you coiling tighter with every teasing stroke. You were right there, on the edge, ready to shatter, but he held you back, drawing it out, making you beg for it.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against the pulse point in your neck, sucking lightly on the tender skin, his breath hot and ragged against your ear. "I love watching you fall apart for me," he whispered, his voice low and gravelly, each word sending a fresh wave of heat straight to your core. He thrust deep, hitting that sweet spot inside you that made your vision blur and your body jerk beneath him.

Your nails dug into his skin, your head falling back as a cry of pure pleasure tore from your throat. You were so close, so painfully close, your entire body burning with the need to let go, to fall over that edge into bliss.

Michael could sense it, a shift in the way your body clung to him, your muscles tightening with an urgency that matched his own rising need. He grunted softly, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you closer, pressing his lips to the tender skin of your neck. His breath was hot against your ear as his thrusts deepened, each one harder, more deliberate. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting filled the air, mixing with the soft crackle of the fire, though that was nothing compared to the symphony of your combined moans, gasps, and whispered names.

Your breath hitched, fingers clutching at his back as you arched into him, the intensity of his movements nearly overwhelming. "Oh, yes," you cried out, your voice breathless, needy. Your nails bit into his skin as you clung to him, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. "Just like that, Michael, please," you begged, your voice rising with every word, every sensation.

He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest and into you, his rhythm relentless now. His breath came in short, heated bursts against your neck, his lips brushing your skin. "Let go, baby," he whispered in your ear, his voice rough with need. "I can feel how close you are."

Your whole body trembled, the fire within you burning hotter and brighter, tightening in your core. You wanted to hold back, to savor the moment, but the way he filled you, the way he moved—it was too much. Your toes curled over his shoulders, your heels pressing into his back, and your nails dug into his skin as your climax built like a wave, unstoppable.

With one final, deep thrust, you shattered. Your body convulsed around him, your release crashing over you with an intensity that left you breathless. "Michael!" you cried out, but his hand swiftly covered your mouth, muffling your cries as your body spasmed against his.

He groaned as he felt you come undone around him, his eyes dropping to where your bodies met, watching as you coated him in a slick, milky sheen. His movements became jerky, less controlled, as he drove into you one last time, his body stiffening as he buried himself deep inside. With a guttural moan, he released, filling you with thick, hot spurts that poured out of you, dripping onto the polished piano beneath you.

The sensation of his warmth inside you, filling you completely, sent aftershocks rippling through your body. You moaned into his hand, your body twitching as you felt the remnants of his release spilling out, mingling with yours. His head dropped into the crook of your neck, his breathing ragged, his body spent but still trembling with the aftermath of your shared pleasure.

Slowly, he eased you down, laying your body flat against the cool surface of the piano. He removed his hand from your mouth, replacing it with his lips in a soft, lingering kiss, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek.

Your heart pounded against his chest as he rested his head on your breasts, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies still humming with the remnants of ecstasy. You stared at the ceiling, your vision hazy, as your fingers lazily trailed through his hair, your body trying to calm down from the intensity of it all.

Michael lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face and placed a kiss on your cheek, his lips warm and gentle. "There's my pretty girl," he whispered, his voice thick with adoration. "How do you feel?"

You let out a long, shaky breath, a small smile spreading across your lips. "So good," you whispered, still catching your breath.

He chuckled, the sound low and intimate. "I bet you do," he murmured as he slowly pulled away, his hands gripping your waist gently. As he slipped out of you, a soft whimper escaped your lips, the sudden emptiness making you shudder.

The mixture of your releases spilled out from you, a thick, creamy mess pooling on the piano. Michael watched with darkened eyes, muttering a low, "Damn..." under his breath as he shook his head, knowing the mess was something they'd have to deal with—again.

"Stay here," he said softly, disappearing briefly before returning with his discarded shirt. He carefully wiped the sweat from your brow, then spread your legs further, cleaning the sticky mess between your thighs and wiping down the piano with tender care.

After helping you sit up, your body still heavy with exhaustion, he smiled at the dazed look on your face. "Think you can stand?" he asked, his tone light, though there was a knowing glint in his eyes.

You nodded, but as soon as your feet hit the floor, your legs buckled. Michael was there instantly, catching you in his arms, his laughter a warm rumble in your chest. "I knew you couldn't," he teased, earning a light slap to his bare chest as you giggled.

"Shut up," you mumbled playfully, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He kissed your forehead gently, then scooped you up into his arms, cradling you close to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you through the dimly lit house, past the flickering fire, down the quiet hallway toward your shared bedroom.

Sleep began to pull at you, the warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart lulling you into a peaceful haze. Michael glanced down at you, his expression soft, filled with love and devotion. He laid you gently on the bed, pulling the covers over you before pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"I'll be back," he whispered, knowing you always had trouble falling asleep without him.

As he returned to the living room to tidy up, putting out the fire and blowing out the candles, the room fell into darkness, the soft glow of the moon casting silver light across the room. When he returned to your side, slipping beneath the covers, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him. The warmth of his skin against yours was a comfort like no other, and as he nuzzled into your neck, he whispered, "Thank you... for being my joy."

Though you were half asleep, you smiled softly, feeling his love in every word, every touch. And with that, you both drifted off, wrapped in each other's warmth, the moment forever etched in your memories.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Hi can you write an MJF x reader where reader is MJF wife and is sitting at the barricade at Double or nothing where he returns and mentions how he isn’t leaving AEW?

I’m so happy that MJF is back!!!

Double or Nothing

MJF x Wife Reader

MJF Masterlist Main Masterlist

It didn’t matter how many times I’d been fortunate enough to experience Max’s returns ringside. Every return was bigger and better than the last. It has been five months since I last found myself in this position. 5 months ago I sat in this exact spot cheering on my husband against his match with Joe at World’s End. I know that match didn’t end the way we wanted but that just meant his return would be ungodly. I watched Adam Cole enter the ring, devil mask in hand. It didn’t matter what he was saying, it would soon mean nothing. I couldn't help the nervous feeling in my stomach, I was internally counting down the seconds until the lights went out and the devil came home. As if on cue the lights went out. I watched Adam Cole frantically pace around the ring waiting to get jumped and yet nothing happened. Just then the video package played on the screens. I could sense the confusion in the fans. Some chanted his name while others questioned who was filming the video. It was obvious the hands were one of a female. I was the one that helped Max film it, we just had to throw them off just a bit. Just then my focus from the screen was broken when a fan yelled “Wait isn’t that MJF’s Wife!” Fuck, I got caught. I tried my best to ignore the comment as I awaited his entrance theme to play on the speakers. I thought the pop was big when Max returned at All Out back in 2022 but this was nothing in comparison. The crowd went crazy as Max made his way to the ring, ready to kill Adam Cole. For a moment it was as if Max would reunite with Cole but of course, that was false. For the past 5 months, Max hated how he allowed himself to get soft, he hated that he trusted someone other than me. Max was out for revenge. For a moment in time, some thought we would never see MJF in AEW again but AEW was his home. The other company would ruin him. Maxwell Jacob Friedman is NOT a PG guy. I couldn't help the smile on my face, he was home. The people loved him, they needed him. I can’t wait to see where this next adventure takes us. 

[sydsaint]

Please! I just wanna give him a big ol' hug

Summary: The reader makes an attempt to comfort Max after the incident at Worlds End.

There isn't a feeling in the world worse than having to stand by and watch someone you care for get their heart broken by someone they trusted. But that's what you're here doing. AEW's Worlds End PPV special is closing out and you're stuck between Excalibur and Nigel watching Max get the crap beaten out of him by the man that was supposed to be his best friend. Adam Cole. 

"I have to say, I feel a bit bad for the lad." Nigel admits as he begins gathering up his papers from the desk. 

"Yeah, me too." Excalibur agrees while doing the same. 

You fidget with a pen in your hand, trying your absolute best not to vault the table and rush to help Max. "A bit?" You shoot a glare at Nigel. 

Nigel shrugs and slips off his headset, ready to head backstage. He walks away from the desk and Excalibur does the same. You watch the pair walk off chatting with one another and scoff. Sure, Max isn't exactly popular with either of them. But for them to not even offer the fallen champ a consoling glance is utterly ridiculous. In your mind anyway. 

Cautiously you make your way around the commentary table and head toward the ring. Adam Cole and his new posse of goons have slinked back into the darkness for the moment and Max is sitting defeated on the floor near the ring steps. 

"Do you need some help up?" You walk over to Max quietly with a sympathetic smile. You have no idea how Max will react to the offer of help. Not after everything that's happened to him. But you have to at least try. 

Max looks up from the floor with red and puffy eyes. "Y/N? What do you want?" He asks you, shifting his body to point away from you. 

"I just wanted to see if you're alright." You reply. "That beating you took looked rough. And the thing with Adam..." 

Max scoffs and shakes his head. "I shouldn't be surprised at this point." He sneers. "No one ever stays. Not my fiancé, not my friends, or people I thought were my friends. No one." He sighs deeply. "I'm just a loser that's destined to be alone. And I'm not even a champion anymore. So there goes the fans as well." He looks out at the crowd now starting to spill out of the arena. 

"I'm here now." You reply and kneel down so you're not towering over Max. "And I know that we don't know each other that well. But I want to help if I can." You offer Max your hand to help him up. "At least let you know that you're not 100% alone." 

Max looks at your hand and then back up at  your face. He repeats this a couple of times before reluctantly taking your hand. You pull him up to his feet and walk backstage with him. 

"I'm sorry that you lost." You speak up while you're walking. "I know what it's like to have a friend stab you in the back like that. In fact, I'll never wrestle again because of it." You laugh at your misfortune. 

"You used to wrestle?" Max glances at you. 

You nod, briefly recalling the painful memory in your head. "Yep. I worked for ROH before Khan bought it out. I was helping out this new girl. Showing her the ropes and stuff. And she stabbed me in the back during a ladder match for a title opportunity. Threw me off a 15 foot ladder and into a pile of smaller ones." You explain. "She went on to win the title, and I damn near broke my spine." 

"Damn." Max replies. "I had no idea. I just thought you had always been in commentary and backstage stuff." He admits. 

"It's fulfilling enough work." You shrug. "Sure, it'll never beat being in the ring. But at least it's still a part of it, right?" 

Max nods and the two of you come up on the locker room area. "Thanks for talking with me." Max stops in front of his room and turns to you. "I...I needed that." He admits. 

"No problem." You nod. "I know when it happened to me all I wanted was someone to talk with. Someone that knew what I was feeling. So if you ever need some company, just shoot me a text or something." You offer with a soft smile. 

"I think that I'll take you up on that, thanks." Max nods. "I'll see you later, Y/N." 

You step back from the door with another soft smile. "Mhm. Take care, Max. And hey, try not to beat yourself up too hard." You add before you turn and walk off. 

Max lingers at the door and watches you disappear down the hall. That sinking feeling in his chest lightens a bit as he watches you walk off. No one has ever shown him kindness and an willingness to just be there for him before. 

It's addicting. 

Max finds himself smiling a bit as he heads inside his locker room. He's lost everything tonight. So why the hell is he smiling? What have you done?

 Given him hope, that's what. And hope is a dangerous thing for a man that's already lost so much. 

[mrsarcherofinfamy]

●MJF x Reader●

Summary: Max freaks out thinking you want Lance instead of him. He finds out the hard way that Lance is actually your dad.

_________________________________________

*Y/N's POV*

Standing in the hallway fixing my Murderhawk Monster shirt, I am watching my dad make his return to Rampage against a random squash wrestler. I am smiling really big watching him. Someone comes up and stands next to me. I look over seeing Max standing next to me.

"Hey Max. What's up?"

"Whatcha doing out here in the hallway?"

"Oh I'm watching this match. It's his return and I'm so happy for him!"

He looks down at my shirt than back at me.

"Oh I see what's going on here. You have moved on from me and now are interested in that loser."

I look at him with a shocked face.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah you heard me right. You wanna date this loser over me. Who is a champion. But no, Y/N wants to date the bottom tier and not the top tier. Have fun with that loser. Bye."

I stand there with my eyes wide watching him walk away.

"Did that really just happen?"

Bowens and Caster walk up next to me looking at me. Caster puts his hand on my shoulder as I look up at them.

"Does he not know that is your dad?"

"He didn't even let me explain. He just freaked out."

"Well now that he is available, I might have to slide in those dms."

"You go for it Caster."

I laugh looking at him and he shakes his head looking at the tv. I look back at the TV seeing my dad pick up the win.

"I'll see you guys later!"

I head off to gorilla as they say their goodbyes.

_________________________________________

*Max's POV*

I watch as Y/N jumps into Lance's arms and he spins her around hugging her tightly. To say I am jealous is an understatement. I walk into gorilla not looking at them getting prepared for my promo I am going to do in the ring. Lance sets Y/N down and they both look over at me. Y/N shakes her head and walks out of gorilla. Lance looks at me confused but walks out with her anyways. My music hits and I go out to the ring.

_________________________________________

*Max's POV*

I am sitting on my bed in my shared hotel room with Adam Cole when he looks over at me from his bed.

"Dude, is something wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"Cmon Max. You have been upset since we got back to the hotel. What's going on?"

"It's Y/N okay? She isn't interested in me anymore. She's moved on to that loser Lance Archer."

He starts laughing and I look over at him confused.

"What's so funny?"

"You! Thinking Y/N isn't interested in you and she wants Lance. That's the funniest thing I've heard this week."

"What do you mean? I saw her wearing his shirt, saying she was so happy for him, jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly. Like she obviously doesn't want me."

He starts laughing harder and I look at him getting pissed off.

"What is so funny about this?"

"Dude, did you let her explain why she had the shirt on and she was happy for him?"

"No. I just freaked out because I have hardcore feelings for her and she hurt me going to that loser."

"Max..... that's her dad."

I look at him with a blank face.

"What?"

"Yeah. Lance is her dad."

"Oh shit."

I grab my phone and call her.

_________________________________________

*Y/N's POV*

Sitting on my bed in my shared hotel room watching tv, my phone starts buzzing. I pick it up and see Max calling me. I hit the ignore button and put it down.

"Who was that?"

I look over at Max Caster laying on his bed and shake my head.

"It was Max."

"If he calls again, can I answer?"

"Sure! I'll put it on speaker."

We go back to watching the TV when my phone starts buzzing again. I look over at Caster, smiling hitting the accept button putting it on speaker.

"Y/N! Y/N! Are you there?"

"Hey Max! Whats going on?"

"Who is this?"

"It's Caster!"

"Oh God no. Please. Where is Y/N?"

"In the shower. Why are you calling her?"

"I wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier today. I didn't know that Lance is her dad. I feel like a total idiot Caster. I'm so in love with that woman that I got jealous and pissed off and upset and confused and....."

"Max?"

"Y/N?"

"I can hear everything you are saying. I've had you on speaker this whole time."

"Oh...."

"You really are in love with me?"

"You have no idea. I feel like such an idiot for everything I said. I should have let you explain but my feelings got the best of me."

I get up, wave at Caster than leave my hotel room hanging up on Max. I walk up to Max's hotel room door and knock on the door.

The door opens and Adam is standing there smiling at me. He opens it letting me in when I see Max sitting on the edge of his bed with his head down.

"Who was that Adam?"

Adam looks at me than back at Max who still is looking at the floor.

"Why don't you look dude?"

Max looks over seeing me, gets up and runs over engulfing me into a hug. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

"Y/N! I'm so sorry! I love you so much!"

I look at him putting my hands on his cheeks smiling.

"I love you so much too Max!"

Adam starts clapping behind us and I look back at him.

"Finally you two are together!"

I giggle laying my head on Max's shoulder looking up at him and he looks at me.

"Finally got my dream girl."

[juceynightmare]

lost and found (18+) part 2 - mjf x reader

my masterlist

lost and found (18+) masterlist

pairing(s): mjf x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, age gap (reader is 21, max is 27), max is an asshole, the line of kayfabe is blurred when it comes to max

genre(s): soulmate!au, slow burn, angst, fluff

|| previous part || next part ||

it had been a few days since that fateful day that she received a call from her soulmate, maxwell jacob friedman. a quick google search and many videos later let her know all that she needed to know about him. his in-ring persona, although y/n had learned that they were just characters, seemed to be a perfect mirrored reflection of how he was treating her over the phone.

it was hard to learn about who maxwell jacob friedman the person was, but it was easy to find out who maxwell jacob friedman the wrestler was. and if they were exactly the same, then y/n hopes that she never has to meet the man or contact him again.

but that didn’t mean that she was upset with this fact.

she had been struggling to focus in her lectures that day, and eventually decided to skip the rest of her lectures and just drive home to her apartment. that was, until she realized that she had no idea where her keys were. she groaned out in frustration, her hands pressed against her face as she stood beside her car.

god damn it all.

she pulled her phone out of her pocket, pulling up her phone and pressing the contact that read “cock sucking whore soulmate”. pressing her phone against her ear, she turned around and leaned back against her car, sighing softly as it went to voicemail.

she sighed, pulling her phone away from her ear once again to call him again. y/n would repeat this action 5 more times before it’d eventually be picked up.

“you’d think you’d give up after the first 3 calls.” max huffed on the other end. y/n figures she called at a bad time, considering the man sounded out of breath. if she focused on the background noise, she could make out the banging of weights and music playing over the speaker that reminded her of the gym.

“are my keys with you? i need to know if the universe has already sent them to you or if i’m blind and don’t see it in my bag.” y/n mumbled, swinging her bag to her front so she could unzip the smallest pocket and sift through it again.

max sighed, but she could tell that the man was walking through the gym - probably to wherever he had his bag - as the background noise decreased in volume. eventually, she heard him unzip something and soon after, the sound of keys jangling came through the phone speaker. “cute charm, princess. but you’re a fucking weaboo piece of shit? really? no wonder you had no idea who i was even though the belt had my name on it.” he groaned.

she felt her face heat up in embarrassment, remembering the multiple keychains she had hanging from her keys. a multitude of charms ranging from different anime series that the girl enjoyed. “and what about it?” she shot back without intending to sound so harsh. it’d be the first time that she’d ever have anyone poke fun at the fact that she enjoyed watching anime - it seemed to be something that everyone her age was into nowadays. “look, just, send it with your friend to this university. i need it so i can drive home.” she huffed.

“no can do, princess. we’re not in the area anymore. if you did your research and knew how to keep track of time, you’d know it’s wednesday and i have a show tonight.” max hummed. y/n wished she could reach through the phone and grab max by his neck so she could choke him out. she could hear how amused the man was by the entire situation. “order yourself an uber. caster and i are flying back tonight so he’ll be able to drop it off around 5 am.”

“5 am?!” she screamed, her voice echoing throughout the parking garage. a group of people walked by her, all trying their best not to look at her but y/n could feel the way they were looking at her in their peripherals.

“i could ship it if you want, but it’d take a few days to get there, princess, and it sounds like you need them as soon as possible.” max replied, a smugness in his tone that y/n had heard many times over the countless videos she had watched of the man in an effort to find any signs of redeemable human being under his persona.

and it only made her want to bring the attitude straight to max.

“fine.” she sighed in defeat, zipping her backpack shut and slinging it back over her shoulder. she began to leave the parking garage so that she could go to her next lecture, deciding that this was a sign for her to not skip class. “you better be the one at my door, not caster. although i don’t know how a guy like him is friends with an asshole like you.”

“what are you, braindead?” max immediately replied, and y/n transferred the call to her airpods so she didn’t have to keep her phone pressed to her ear. “have i not made it clear that i don’t want to meet you?”

“why though? we’re soulmates, are we not? is it not destiny that we meet and become life partners and all that other crap?” she questioned loudly, not caring for the weird looks from the people she passed by as she stormed her way through the campus.

“why? it’s obvious, is it not?” max laughed. his laugh had y/n stopping in her tracks as she listened to the way the man had sounded so genuinely amused that y/n was even questioning him. she hadn’t even realized that she had grown so frustrated that tears had welled in her eyes until she blinked away her blurry vision and felt stray tears roll down her cheeks. “i like to have control of my life, princess. and i know this whole soulmate spiel was determined without my own bidding. i also know that if we were to somehow meet, i’d feel this connection to you, and honestly, i don’t like the fact that the universe thinks it knows who i need in life to be my soulmate. i know myself best and i know that i’d like to choose my own life partner, thank you.”

she gripped the strap of her backpack in her fist tightly, stepping off to the side of the sidewalk so she didn’t get in others’ way as she listened to the man talk. when y/n begged the universe to let her soulmate be someone who was independent and didn’t need to rely on her so that she could still be her own person, she didn’t mean to this extent. “you should also know that platonic soulmates exist. look, i’ve been waiting 21 years of my life to finally meet my soulmate and i’m not taking no as an answer.”

“and i’ve been living 27 years of my life without my soulmate and i’m living my best life. i’m rich, i have my dream job, and i can have my pick out of multiple insanely hot women who throw themselves at me.” max replied without a heartbeat.

she could feel the way her heart fell in her chest. so much for hoping that she'd get someone that was her prince charming as her soulmate. she clenched her jaw and pulled her phone out of her pocket. “bring the keys to my place as soon as you can.” she angrily grunted, ending the phone call and pulling her airpods out of her ears to put them back in her case.

stupid max. she didn’t need him either.

but she’d be graduating in a few weeks time with a degree in design with a concentration in fashion design. she also knew that all elite wrestling were currently looking for a new seamstress after their head seamstress had just retired.

oh, maxwell. the universe had been so right in pairing you with such a soul like y/n’s. if max wasn’t willing to go to y/n himself and meet her, then y/n will just have to bring the fight straight to max herself.

as she made it to her next lecture hall to sit in the empty room for the 25 minutes she had before the actual class would start, y/n had determined that she’d get her portfolio updated and put together and send in her application to all elite wrestling as soon as possible.

|| next part ||

[valkyrie-night-103]

Was there ever a time where Adam smiled at him, and the smile was real? Did Adam ever feel anything for him, anything at all?

There’s a flicker of him that hopes it because Adam is just like him. That he was afraid of being tossed aside, and he felt like this was the only way to protect himself. To beat Max to the punch.

He tries to let himself believe that some of it was real. At least some of it meant something. Adam just grew tired of him, like everybody does. It just took him longer than expected.

But Max isn’t that stupid. Stupid enough to trust Adam Cole, perhaps, but not stupid enough to believe Cole ever actually loved him.

And Max sits there, and he wonders. What was the point of all this?

But he already knows the answer. Cole didn’t want to beat him. He wanted to break him.

He didn’t just want to take everything he had. Everything he was. He wanted Max to give him everything not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He wanted Max to do the work for him, to peel himself open like a clementine and feed him that love and trust segment by segment. To burn himself out from the inside.

“Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t,” people say. Max should have known better. He should have remembered that it’s absolutely possible to be both at once.

You couldn’t give me a neurodivergent blorbo with abandonment and betrayal related trauma and expect me not to get all emo about it. Will I make this a full one-shot? Who knows. But all your Adamjf posts made me sad so this is my retaliation.

[mjfsupremacy]

Can you pleasee, write a MJF x reader where the reader gets MJFs number after he gets done in the ring like how randy Orton met his wife.

SUPRISE BITCH 😈 I HATH RETURNED

Whoever sent me this MONTHS ago, thank you! Because I've been sitting on this and I knew it was going to be my next thing but with a little me twist 😉 Reader has the name Lucy, but it's just because I need a break from Y/N lol so call her whatever you want.

So without further ado....

The Bracelet

MJF x Reader SMAU

Part One - Masterlist

INSTAGRAM STORY

INSTAGRAM POST

INSTAGRAM DM

[scumbag4scumbag]

Shameless Self-Promotion: Comments Requested

So, this fanfic universe kinda feels like my magnum opus of wrestling fic... I've written others, mostly AdaMJF/BTYBB fics (and I'm more than happy to share those links as well), but I started this CMJF verse with what was supposed to be a one-shot set in a world where Max is the heir to a rich New York family's business and fortune, and Punk is the older, poor as fuck, guitarist in a band who turned Max's life upside down. The first piece I wrote was Max drunkenly calling Punk after being abandoned a week before his wedding to Adam Cole, the guy his parents had approved of. But it grew... and grew... and grew.

Unfortunately, I've put in a lot of work, but haven't gotten much feedback on it. My AdaMJF stuff gets a decent amount of feedback, but CMJF not so much... maybe because they don't actually interact anymore, so the ship fandom is dying? IDEK. But I know there's a lot of AO3 writers on the old Tumblr, so I figure worst case? Nobody sees this and best case? I get some feedback!!

Anyways... without futher ado, let me link ya.

Toxicity Is a Virtue... or Something: A CMJF AU Universe Description: Maxwell Jacob Friedman is the golden son of a wealthy New York family. CM Punk is his parents’ worst nightmare.

Part 1: Watch Me Turn Your Mind Into My Home Summary: Max is slumming at a punk rock club with his friends. Punk is playing that club with his band. Worlds collide and shit gets messy. In Progress

Part 2: Why Are You Here? Summary: It's been a few months since Maxwell Jacob Friedman and CM Punk broke up, and they've both moved on. Or so they both think. Complete - One-shot

Part 3: Pretty When You Cry Summary: Max thought he had finally found the person who would love him forever -- who would never break his heart -- in the person of Adam Cole. But as usual? Max thought wrong. -or- 5 times Adam truly smiled at Max and 1 time he tried to but failed. Complete - One-shot

Part 4: Sick Like Me Summary: Maxwell Jacob Friedman is the son of one of New York City's richest families, and as such, his parents have been planning his life for a long time. CM Punk is the much older, much poorer guy he dated 5 years ago. Adam Cole is the charmer Max's parents loved until he left him a week before their wedding. Larry just wants a treat. In Progress

[allelitesmut]

Palate Cleanser

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

Ship: MJF x Actress!Childhood Friend!OFC

Rating: Explicit

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

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

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

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

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

“That too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess it has been a while.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, she was in trouble.

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because he wasn’t my boyfriend.” She answered simply, as if he wasn’t the only exception, but Katherine was already melodramatically clutching at her chest. Boy, was he an outlier if there ever was one, though.

“What?! Miss Monogamy had a dirty little hook up? How did this happen?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Riley groaned a response, running a hand through her hair. She had no idea where to even beginning with Max. “I’ve known him forever. When my dad left, my mom and I moved to a new house, two doors down from Max. We grew up together, I guess, and we ended up decently good friends by high school.” Twenty years that they had known each other now. A lifetime.

“Don’t tell me he was actually your first.” Katherine groaned, pretending to gag, and Riley rolled her eyes at her.

“He wasn’t. It’s nothing that dire.” She waved her off. Katherine waited for her to elaborate and she sighed, placing her fork down and leaning back in her chair. She glanced around the backstage area to be sure he hadn’t snuck in while she wasn’t looking. “Like I said, we were pretty close in high school. And I’m not sure if you remember the story about how things ended with the guy I actually lost my virginity to, but- ”

“Oh believe me, I remember. With him kissing Savannah Morgansen at the end of the year pool party? Literally classless.” Katherine interrupted her, shaking her head, and Riley swallowed a laugh.

“Right. Anyway, the break up was messy and loud and very public. But Max was there to…comfort me.” Riley glanced away but she didn’t need to see Katherine to know the dirty smile on her face.

“Oh, I bet he comforted you real good.”

“Shut up.” She chuckled and shoved her shoulder. “I was emotional and possibly the angriest I’d ever been in my life and we were both so drunk.” She paused, the memories of that night swirling in her mind. “And he was uncharacteristically complimentary and I dove mouth-first into him.”

“As one does when angry, drunk, and complimented.” She gave an exaggerated, understanding nod. “I assume Blondie didn’t mind that, though.” Riley snorted.

“No, definitely not.” She worried her lip between her teeth. “He had me pinned to a wall with my top off in approximately 8 seconds flat.”

“While drunk? Impressive.”

“It was. But nothing serious really came of it.” Boy did that feel like a lie coming out of her mouth. “The summer after that party, we fooled around from time to time and it was fantastic but he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend and I wasn’t looking to rush into a new relationship.” She paused before wincing. “But then Paul moved to town from Oregon at the start of the school year and that just kind of happened really quickly, and Max and I just went back to being friends like nothing ever happened.”

“Nothing? Really?” Katherine raised a dubious brow. “I’m supposed to believe that you, Queen of Serious Relationships, managed to play this totally cool and never brought it up again? Just seamlessly moved back to being his friend without even discussing it?”

“You know, this may come as a surprise to you, but, as a the lead actress in a tv show, I’m actually capable of doing a little bit of acting when it suits me.”

“Babe, our show was on the CW, that’s not always a given.” Katherine bit back a cheeky grin and Riley smacked her shoulder with the back of her hand. “Okay, well then you’re trying to tell me that you got all flustered back there over a guy you slept with a decade ago?” She demanded, savoring the last bite of yogurt on her spoon. Riley scoffed.

“First of all, I was not flustered. I just…didn’t expect to see him today, that’s all.”

“Mm almost like his sudden appearance caught you off guard and you were…” She waved her spoon from side to side with her cadence, leaving space for Riley to fill in the word ‘flustered’ herself but she just rolled her eyes.

“I wasn’t flustered. And besides, I’ve slept with him more recently than a decade ago.” Her tight, restrained smile had Katherine leaning in closer for more details. “I mean, Paul and I didn’t last forever, and Max is just…so good at comforting people.” She could feel the color rising to her cheeks and tried to will it back down.

“Against all laws of the universe.”

“But that turned into kind of a pattern for us." Riley's tone shifted, the reality of her relationship with Max now laid out clearly in her mind. "I would date a guy, then when we broke up, I’d always end up back in Max’s bed. It didn’t take more than a couple of times before he started knowing to expect me." She winced, wetting her lips with a sigh. "It stopped being something he pretended didn’t happen and started being something to tease me about when it looked like my current relationship was running its course." And by the end, something he actively encouraged, but that was a can of worms she couldn’t stand to open. "But every time was always better than the last. Like he was rebooting my internal settings.”

“Ohhhh.” Katherine tsked as if she had figured her out. “He was your palate cleanser.”

“Excuse me?” Riley raised an exasperated brow.

“Your palate cleanser. You know, the guy that’s fantastic in bed but undateable - perfect for a good screw between relationships. Clears the lingering bad taste of your last relationship out and gets you ready to move on to the next guy!”

“Isn’t that just a rebound?” She rolled her eyes and Katherine pointed a spoon in her direction, accusingly.

“Not if you use the same guy every time!”

“Now you’re just making this up.”

“Don’t I wish, babe! But you’d know that if you ever looked at the newsletters I send you.” But Katherine was already laughing. Riley tried to bury her face in her salad. It felt a little rude to Max but it did hit the nail on the head. He had been more than that, though, hadn’t he? “You know, you’re probably due for a good palate cleansing right about now, aren’t you?” Riley recoiled at the implication.

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, babe, you broke up with Lucas three months ago. It’s time to move on; you know he has.” Her expression was sympathetic but it had Riley's face burning red. The split from Lucas was nasty and she honestly hadn’t finished mourning it. Four years was a long time to be with someone - especially when it ends like that.

“It’s not that easy.” She protested but she could see Katherine's objection playing on her lips. “Besides, you don’t understand. Getting involved with Max again…that’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous how? You’re not ‘getting involved’ with him. You’re having one night of shameless sex.” She looked bored and Riley spluttered for an explanation that made sense of the jumbled feelings in her gut.

“He’s got this pull over me.” She knew that sounded melodramatic but it was out her mouth before she could stop it. “You don’t know what it was like before we stopped talking a few years ago.” Shaking her head, she leaned back in the uncomfortable folding chair. “I can’t control myself when he’s involved. I honestly probably shouldn’t even go with him for a drink tonight.”

“What, exactly, is the worst that could happen? You have one fun-filled night that helps you forget about your sorry excuse for an ex boyfriend, then don’t see him for another five years?" Katherine offered but Riley was just shaking her head. "You’re both so busy now - I mean you didn’t run into him in all these years without even trying to avoid him. I think you’ll be okay.”

But she was wrong about that. It was no coincidence that they hadn't seen each other in four years. Riley had put a decent effort into avoiding him. For four years, any time she was back home, it was peering around corners at the grocery store, and cutting short her runs through her parents' neighborhood at the sight of a car his color. When she cut ties it was a hard cut, and it was meant to be for good.

“I make bad decisions when he’s involved. Do things that I shouldn’t and normally wouldn't ever consider.”

“Oh," Katherine grimaced, "like anal? Been there. Good dick will do that to you.”

“No, like cheating on Jonah.” Riley winced.

“Oh, my god!” Her eyes bulged and she dropped her spoon onto the table with a clatter. “Is that why you and Jonah broke up?" She shoved Riley's shoulder hard and she swayed back in her chair. Jonah was her boyfriend before Lucas and was, as most of her family and friends would attest, a rotten son-of-a-bitch. Much like the majority of the boys she had dated. "You never told me that! You can be a bad girl!”

“Don’t sound so proud of me." Her scowl was not intimidating but Katherine tried valiantly not to laugh. "Its probably the single thing on this planet that I feel the most guilty about.” Tightly contested by her decision to cut Max out of her life, but she couldn’t verbalize that even if she wanted to. “I didn’t make it more than 24 hours without breaking down, confessing to him.”

“Please don’t lose sleep over it. Jonah earned that. Not like he was exactly the best boyfriend.” She was putting it mildly, mostly because she knew it wasn't worth the argument with Riley.

“But he didn’t deserve that. I should know. And I should’ve known better, but I wasn’t thinking straight because I can’t think straight when Max is around! Which is why I really shouldn’t be around him anymore. It’s too dangerous.” She was working herself up now and could hear it in her own voice. Spinning out about Max was her specialty, though; yet another reason to add to the list.

“Well I don’t think you’re in any danger of cheating on your boyfriend right now, so what exactly are you afraid of?” Katherine demanded, leaning her chin on her hand, propped up on the table. Riley shuttered a sigh, rolling her head back in an attempt to find the words. She was a jumbled mess and her feelings about her friendship with Max were a tangled web right in the center of it all.

“I just can’t go through it again." She said finally. "Not long after I started dating Lucas, he found out about what happened with Max while I was with Jonah. He told me he wasn’t comfortable with me being friends with Max anymore…and it sucked but I understood. If the tables had been turned, I probably wouldn’t have felt comfortable either." It was a very large simplification of a long, disaster of a night but that story was just going to unravel a whole yarn she didn’t have the heart to spin. But her brain was nagging her to admit the not-so-insignificant factor that weighed in her decision. "Plus, I was starting to feel a little out of control when it came to Max. I never wanted to say no when it came to him and that was a dangerous game to play. So I told him we couldn’t talk anymore." She glanced down at the table, pushing food around on her plate. "It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and I couldn’t talk to Lucas about it but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I am just finally reaching a point where I don’t think about him constantly; it took me four years to stop thinking about him all the time. If I dip my toe back in there now, I might drown.”

Daring a glimpse at Katherine, she braced for the worse. She hadn't intended to divulge that much of the inner monologue of hundreds of sleepless nights spent thinking about him. They hadn't even touched on the layers of guilt that had built up over time, or the time she drunk dialed him and left a horrible voicemail that she only remembered pieces of. But the look on Katherine's face was much worse than she expected - it was sympathy and concern and much gentler than she'd been a few minutes ago.

“Babe, no one’s dick is that magical." She shook her head softly, brows drawn. "It...kind of sounds like you were in love with him.” Riley's wild scoff did nothing to assuage her.

“That’s insane.” Riley spluttered through a laugh that was distinctly outside of her vocal register. “I definitely wasn’t in love with him. If you knew him better, you’d understand why that’s just not possible.” She shook her head with another alien laugh, and she could see the way it was making Katherine look at her but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Like… he was my best friend, but he was insufferable. Like one of the most annoying people that most people have ever met. I definitely wasn’t in love with him.”

“Riley, I knew he was insufferable the moment he started talking." Katherine stressed and Riley's face fell slightly, her firm wall of denial crumbling before her eyes. "And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him for four years? Sounds like more than just a palate cleanser to me.”

“No, I mean we were friends! I cared about him. Like I care about you!" Her voice was veering on manic as she pointed to Katherine. "So, I guess, I mean, maybe you could make the stretch that I loved him. Like I love you. But I definitely wasn’t in love with him. That’s just not possible.” Oh, she did not like the way Katherine was looking at her. That concern and sympathy only growing with every passing minute. “I just missed my friend. That’s all.” She said finally, like it would undo all the word vomiting she just did.

“You know, I’m starting to think maybe you shouldn’t go for that drink with him tonight.” Katherine sat back in her seat, pursing her lips.

“What? Why would you say that? I thought you said I needed my palate cleansed!” Riley's stomach turned anxiously and she tried to mentally tamp down whatever emotion had made that happen. It was the same thing she had been trying to convince Katherine of just a few minutes ago but the way she was presenting it now was setting off pins and needles throughout Riley’s skin.

“Yeah but this guy isn’t a good palate cleanser." She shook her head and Riley let out an indignant puff of breath. "A palate cleanser needs to be undateable. Otherwise things get messy. Clearly that was the problem here.”

“Aren’t you listening? Max is undateable!”

“No,” Katherine clarified, slowing down, “Max didn’t want a girlfriend when he was 15. Max is now a grown ass man and you don’t know what he wants.”

“I mean, first of all, he isn’t just undateable because he doesn’t want a girlfriend. He’s undateable because of the whole…insufferable thing." She waved her hand in the air in front of them. "And second, it wasn’t just when he was 15; Max just isn’t the dating type. I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend. Not since high school. The second he realized he could hook up with girls without dating them, he never looked back.” But Katherine’s lips were pressed into a thin line, brows drawn as she studied her. She looked long and hard and Riley swallowed back the nerves gathering in her throat. Finally, she held her hands up in defeat, though Riley wasn’t sure what exactly had convinced her.

“Alright, fair enough. You would know better than I would, right?” Her voice didn’t sound all that convinced but Riley nodded steadfastly, brows still drawn slightly in confusion. This was fine, right? She wasn’t planning to sleep with him anyway, but, even if she did, she wasn’t in love with him so she should be fine. Right? Those were the rules…

“Trust me, he’s not a problem.” Now, if nothing else, she needed to go to convince herself. But, really, what was the worst that could happen?

———————

Max traced the pad of his thumb around the mostly empty glass of beer in front of him. He glanced around the room, then back down at his watch, foot tapping on the metallic rod along the bottom of the bar. He tossed back the remainder of his drink, desperate to silence the voice in the back of his head that told him she wasn’t coming. A finger waved in the air brought the bartender over for a refill.

He knew he was pushing his luck by trying to get her to come out. She had been plenty clear a few years ago but that look on her face when he said her name earlier boosted his ego enough to push. Now, though, he was wondering if it had been a mistake to give her this much time to reconsider. She hadn’t exactly jumped at the chance anyway.

He took another sip of the beer. It was 25 minutes past when she said she would meet him and it was getting harder to argue with that voice in his head. But then the door jingled and his head snapped to her, shaking the rain from her hair in the doorway. There were nerves visibly dancing across her face but she was here and that was all he could bring himself to care about. That, and the fact that her damp dress was bordering on sheer now as it clung to her body. It hadn’t been raining when he came in but, shit, was he glad it had started now.

Doing his best attempt at looking like he wasn’t just desperately watching the door, waiting for her, he turned back to the bar. The bartender was watching him, amused, eyes flicking back to her.

“Don’t you say a fucking thing about how long I’ve been here.” Max hissed under his breath. The bartender pursed his lips with a knowing nod. Waiting another few seconds, Max dared a glance back to see her searching around for him.

“Hey! Over here!” The bartender shouted over the noise. Turning in a swivel, Max glared at him as he waved an exaggerated hand overhead. “Your little buddy has been waiting around for you all night like some sad puppy.” The vein in Max’s head bulged. He sucked at his teeth, trying to tamp his irritation before turning back to her.

“Shit, I’m sorry! I am late, aren’t I? I hope you weren’t waiting too long.” Riley ignored the wild, tangling knot that was growing in her stomach.

“No! I literally just got here.” He lied through his teeth. “This guy is just screwing with me because I didn’t want to try the shitty homemade beer he made in his moms basement.” She gave him a dubious look but he waved her off before she could question it. “Come sit down.”

She hesitated for a moment, just like she did before stepping through the door a minutes ago. Her brain was shooting out warning signs left and right but her feet brought her up onto the bar stool beside him without regard. She gave the bartender an apologetic look for enduring what was probably not Max on his best behavior, then ordered a tequila sunrise.

“Tequila? Still? Are we 17?” Max teased her and she stifled a smile.

“I’ll need at least three more of these if I’m going to put up with you all night.” But she was all smiles and he had missed that attitude. He had missed her. A lot more than he wanted to admit.

“Oh, you’re spending the whole night with me, are you? All this time and you still just want me for one thing.” He grinned his Cheshire grin and she scoffed, ignoring the pangs in her chest.

“That is not what I meant!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.” He watched her sip at her drink. She was too good to be true, right here in front of him again. Her cheeks were dotted with color, a few strands of wet hair clinging to her face, and it took all his restraint not to reach over and brush them aside.

“You’re all too pleased that I need a full bottle of tequila to sleep with you.”

“Hey, no shame in my game, baby.” He winked and savored the way color flooded across her cheeks before she laughed, shaking her head.

“Lots of shame, actually. Like, an astounding amount of shame.” She shook her head, unable to wipe the smile off her face. Why was it that she never could stop smiling when he was around? God, she wished she could stop.

“Please, like you’re one to talk, Captain Clarissa of the Star Cadets.” He referenced her long running character, trying to match his tone to the show's narrator with a condescending smirk and she flipped him off.

“Excuse you! Captain Clarissa is an inspiration! She is the youngest captain to ever land on Gorkula!”

“First of all, gross. Why would anyone want to land on a planet that sounds like the epicenter of venereal diseases?" He pretended to gag and she rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. "Second of all, you crash landed there after flying head on into an asteroid." He paused, rolling his hands out in example. "Shame.” She tried not to acknowledge the well of warmth that grew in her chest, knowing he had been watching enough to know that.

“Coming from the guy that puts sweaty balls in his face for a living!” She shot back and Max sprung forward in his seat, mouth gaping.

“Hey! I am the youngest world champion in this company’s history!” He pointed wildly at her and she took an unimpressed sip of her drink.

“Wow, the world champion of sweaty balls. Your parents must be so proud that their boy was the youngest guy to ever get all the sweaty balls in his face.” She delighted in the way his face turned almost purple, veins threatening to burst any moment.

“I have not put all their balls-" He stopped short, smoothing a hand over his hair and taking a breath, "I mean I haven’t even wrestled most of the guys in the locker room.” Riley stifled a laugh, training her face into a sympathetic frown.

“So…you mean…you don’t even really deserve to be the Sweaty Balls Champion?" She pouted slightly, brows knit. "Jeez, Maxie, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize things were so dire.”

“God, you are such a little punk.” He muttered, tongue pressed to his cheek, and her expression melted into a fond smile that he got trapped in.

“That’s what you always told me.”

“You haven’t changed.” There was a tender charge in the air, his knee bumping hers with an electric fizzle. Her gaze drifted momentarily to his lips before she caught herself, finishing off her drink in an attempt to right herself. She gave herself a desperate, pleading reminder that this was just nostalgia but it slid down the walls of her brain without a bit of it sticking.

“You don’t think Hollywood has corrupted me yet?” She tilted her head indulgently, trying to redirect their energy elsewhere.

“Oh sweetheart, what you do isn’t Hollywood.” He teased, placing a sympathetic hand on her shoulder and they both pretended they didn't feel the rush it caused. She scoffed, catching the bartender’s eye, and he nodded.

“Man, Max, I can always count on you to be my biggest cheerleader.”

“Oh shit, my bad, babe. You wanted cheerleader Max? You got it.” He faced her head on, gripping both her shoulders more sturdily. “Riley, from the bottom of my heart," His head dipped down so his eyes were on her level, "your tits are fantastic.”

“Shut up!” She coughed a laugh as she pulled out of his grip to face the bar again.

“I really genuinely mean it, Ry. Just looking at them would make any guy wanna-“ He stopped to mime a vulgar, exaggerated version of motorboating her. Stifling a laugh, she smacked his shoulder, but it didn’t stop him. She took a sip of the newly refilled drink in front of her.

“I really can’t stand you.” She said as if he couldn’t hear her laughing. As he finally stopped, she shook her head with a smile that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Teeth scraping across her lip, she relaxed back in her chair, and into the familiar rhythm they had. He wet his lips, taking a sip from his beer, not taking his eyes off her.

“But lets be real," Max’s voice dropped to that low gravel that he knew frazzled her brain, and her eyes flashed up to him, "We both know I corrupted you way before Hollywood ever had a chance.”

She had forgotten just how heady it could be to be around him - the air heavy with bad decisions waiting to be made. Taking a breath, she focused on her drink, steadying herself with a stern reminder of the thousand reasons she shouldn't go there again. But, god, something about that insufferable asshole...

"You know, I thought that honor was reserved for the guy that took my virginity." She took a pointed sip of her drink and he snorted so loud it drew attention from the people in the corner table.

"Please, that right is forfeit if the guy has a micropenis."

"He did not have a micropenis!" Riley gaped.

"I was on the football team with him, babe. The guy was microscopic!" He held his fingers up, squinting between the small space between them.

"He was a grower, not a show-er!" She said a little too loud and he snickered. The bartender shot her a look and she shrank back in her seat.

Max's smug expression fell when she kicked his shin hard. In an instant, a familiar heat blared behind his eyes. His tongue smoothed across the front of his teeth, fingers twitching at his side, begging to be buried in her hair, gripping just hard enough for her to tip her head back with that spacey, wide-eyed look. He shook that image out of his head, smoothing a hand over his thigh to release the pent up energy.

"Okay, fine, then he doesn't count because he's a dickhead." He said with finality but she raised her brows at him, holding her tongue, waiting for him to draw his own conclusion from her silence. "Oh, shut up. He's a way bigger dickhead than me."

"Very close call but, yeah, he was pretty bad." She said, lips drawn into a tight smile.

"I mean, he cheated on you. Who cheats on you?" He gestured handily at her and her cheeks burned. "Like other girls, for sure, whatever, go to town. But you? Nah, that's clown behavior." Max watched with a grin as she spluttered into her drink, laughing. "See, I can be a cheerleader." She breathed a chuckle and cocked her head to the side.

"But haven't you heard? Cheating asshole is my type, apparently." She meant it as a joke but winced at the way it came out much more self-pitying. Max's smile melted away into a more serious expression, a real anger tinged just behind his eyes now.

"Yeah, I heard about Lucas and the intern..." He wasn't sure what to say. There were a million jumbled thoughts racing through his mind. Most of them wrapped in at least one layer of anger.

"Interns." She corrected. "Three of them. And two recurring guest stars, 1 extra, and the producer." Oh, pathetic didn't begin to cover the way she felt. Stupid and pathetic and oblivious.

TMZ didn't pull any punches when they splashed her face across the internet; along with a leaked audio clip of a moment that was meant to be private, hidden behind the sound stage, recorded and posted for every stranger in the world to see. Every sordid detail laid out plain as day, along with Lucas' stinging remarks about her after he'd been caught red handed. The humiliation had piled up higher than she could see.

"Most of them weren't even hot." He braced for a smack on the shoulder but she only laughed, almost relieved that she didn’t have to withstand his pity. Taking a long sip from her cocktail, she leaned across the space between them to lay her head on his shoulder. It was firmer than she remembered but just as electric as ever.

"Redhead intern?" She suggested and his lips curled up, past where she could see.

"Man, see, you even have good taste in women. Who cheats on a girl with good taste in women when the option for a threesome is right there?" He said and she chuckled, reaching up to blindly smack at his chest. Smoothing his free hand over her hair, he craned his neck to kiss the top of her head. "I really am sorry, Ry. He's a piece of shit and I swear I really almost tracked him down to beat his ass when I heard what happened." He murmured the words into her hair, the vibration settling deep in her chest. "You were always too good for him anyway." She hummed, quiet as that familiar gnawing burrowed its way back to the surface. Finally, she pulled back and Max cursed the way it left him feeling cold. Even more so when he saw the expression she had, guilt etched into every line of her face.

"Max, I'm really sorry about what happened a few years ago. I never should have let him make decisions about our friendship."

He recoiled slightly. He probably should have seen this coming but he felt blindsided none-the-less. It took everything in him to stop thinking about that last conversation they had. Took months before that hollow feeling even started to fade. There was a noticeable falter in his expression but he hid behind his beer until it was contained. He had been wanting to confront her about this for so many years now but they were finally enjoying themselves and he didn't want emotions he had been trying to keep buried to stop that.

"It's fine. I wasn't losing sleep over it." His tone was clipped but she knew him better than that.

"It's not fine. It was shitty and I'm sorry." Her face was so genuine, it made his stomach hurt. Dragging a hand through his hair and disrupting the style that his 15-hour old gel had kept it in, he blew out a breath.

"Fine, if you won't drop this, can I just ask..." He hesitated, trying to speak carefully but the word just tumbled out of his mouth regardless. "Why?"

"Why won't I drop it? I mean - "

"No, why did you choose him over me?" The silence that fell between them was physically painful but the face she made was even worse - the guilt and pity was too much for Max to stomach. "I swear to god, if you don't stop with the fucking puppy dog face, I will walk out of here." They both knew he was full of crap but it was enough to wipe the expression from her face.

"That's not...I didn't mean for it to feel like I chose him over you."

"Well I'm not sure how else you thought it would feel. Mr. Thespian said 'its me or him' and you didn't hesitate, Riley." He was doing a poor job at masking that bitter tone that desperately wanted to take hold. She shrank back a little.

"I thought he was the one..." Quiet and sheepish and still feeling so, so stupid. But they both know it was more complicated than that. "I really thought I was going to marry him, Max." He scoffed, though, and caught her off guard. Those emotions were bubbling over in his gut and his ability to reign it back was slipping away.

"Look, I'm not stupid, Ry. I knew one day you were gonna meet someone that stuck and we would have to stop fooling around. I knew I was never going to be the guy but for fucks sake, I thought our friendship was a non-negotiable."

"I...I..." She stammered but came up empty. That night was so heated and she was so angry with him for so many things that clouded her judgement.

"I always figured that you would think any guy that wanted me out of your life wasn't worth being with in the first place." He knew it wasn’t entirely fair. He knew she was lending him a good amount of grace by not mentioning that it was his fault that Lucas even found out about what happened with Jonah in the first place. It was complicated and the look on her face was making his stomach turn as emotion bled into her eyes. But fuck, she had always been his first choice and finding out that he wasn’t hers snapped a little piece of his soul.

"How was any guy supposed to be okay with that, Max?" Her voice was pleading for understanding. "It was one thing when we were just out of high school, fooling around when I was single, but we crossed a line with Jonah. How were we supposed to come back from that?”

"Jonah was a piece of shit." He spat the name with the venom it deserved. Never in his life had he met a more arrogant, steamrolling, belittling asshole, and that was saying something. He knew that she knew that he had been the perfect way out of a relationship she felt stuck in.

"You think every guy I ever date is a piece of shit!"

"Have you ever considered that is because you only ever date pieces of shit?" He was gesturing with his hands, voice rising again.

"That's not fair or true." She took an irritated swig of her drink, the light burn on the way down not helping matters. Finishing it off, she offered the bartender an apologetic smile and asked for another, against her better judgement.

"Okay, fine. So, what? You cut me out of your life for 'unfairly' thinking these scumbags weren't good enough for you?" His voice took a hard turn into mocking territory and he held his hands up in a faux-concession. "Sorry, my bad for giving a shit about you, I guess." His eyebrows rose and fell with his punctuation in that way that always drove her crazy. He could feel his sarcasm slipping to a cartoon-ish level but couldn't pull himself back.

"No, Max, I cut you out of my life because you actively tried to sabotage at least the last three relationships I've been in and I couldn't promise myself that I wasn't going to let it happen again!" That was the truth she had been avoiding, said loud enough for most of the thinning crowd at the bar to hear. That was what it really came down to. She couldn't trust herself with him anymore and that meant she couldn't be around him. But he rolled right past that point,

"Sabotage? Really? That's a little dramatic, even for you." He rolled his eyes and her stomach rolled with them.

A boiling anger spouted inside her at the unmitigated gall that he had to even try to pretend he hadn't done everything he could to end nearly every relationship she'd had in the last decade. From the laundry list of complaints about each and every boyfriend that got lodged in her head; to outright goading her to break up with them; to the suggestive texts he'd send her late at night; right down to that dangerous game that led to the dissolution of her relationship with Jonah. He could be relentless and he only got more brazen with each new failed relationship.

"Maybe Hollywood really is rubbing off on you." He sneered with that judgmental stare that he was so good at but always spared her from. It made her skin prickle and pushed her past the edge. If he wanted to sit here and pretend that his fight with Lucas wasn’t just the last in a long line of attempts to chase off her boyfriends, she didn’t need to stick around for it. This wasn’t in her head.

"Fuck you, Maxwell." She spat and but he wasn't finished digging.

"Yeah, why don't you, then? Lets get on with it so you can move on to finding the next scumbag to cheat on you." He saw the hurt register behind her eyes and a gnawing guilt ripped through his stomach, despite his best efforts to tamp it down. He didn't want to feel bad. He wanted to feel satisfied - if they weren't going to have a good time, at least he could win. He deserved to win after everything they had been through. But it didn't feel like he'd won.

Her eyes narrowed an almost imperceptible amount and she shook her head, brows raised. Snatching her purse from the seat back, she dug out some cash and left it on the bar top with most of her drink.

"I knew coming here was a mistake."

She hopped down from her stool and breezed out the door, into the unwelcome chill of the evening. Tucking into the narrow, scarcely lit alley beside the bar, she inhaled a shaky breath as her back melted against the brick exterior of the bar, skin buzzing from head to toe. Her chest was warm, a tingling mixture of cocktails and simmering anger. She scrubbed her hands over her face and up into her hair, closing her eyes and letting her head rest against the wall. He always knew how to shoot straight for the sore spot. Never fucking missed.

Inside the bar, Max slumped in his stool, eyes stuck on the pile of bills left on the table. Crumpled and pathetic, a sterling example of everything he had created for himself. Because he never could stop himself from digging a hole. Never could stop from pushing away anyone that threatened to make him feel something. But fuck her, she had always been the exception to the rule - the one person that was allowed past his walls - and she fucking decimated him for it.

But she wasn't wrong when she said he had sabotaged her relationships. And he knew that if he let himself actually come up with a reason why, it wouldn't take long to figure out that its because she was supposed to be his. The way they fit together - there was no way they weren't supposed to be together. That wasn't realistic, though, and he knew that more than anything.

That didn't stop her crumpled up money from staring at him, though. Reminding him that she had just walked out of his life for what was likely to be the last time. Leaving a hole that never really heals right.

Outside, she was finally starting to feel the effect of the cold's bite. The warmth of her drinks was fading away and the tips of her fingers were paying the price. She rubbed her palms up and down her legs to warm them, keeping her eyes clamped shut. She knew she should call an Uber. Just go back to the hotel and feel sorry for herself in the privacy of her own room until they were in different states and she didn't have to think about him anymore.

“You would think that someone in Hollywood would have explained to you the purpose of a jacket.” There was no mistaking that voice. Her stomach clenched, eyes fluttered open, spotting Max standing a few feet from her by the corner of the building.

“Some habits die hard.” She replied, her neutral expression not giving away a thing as it drifted off toward a spot in the distance - anywhere but to him.

“Some harder than others.” He caught her with that, her eyes blinking back to him, flickers of the street lamp overhead casting light across his face. Shrugging out of his jacket, he passed it to her but she held her hand up in protest. He ignored her protests, closing the space between them to wrap his jacket around her shoulders. She wanted to fight it but the sudden warmth, combined with way she was now flooded by his smell was too much. “I thought you left.”

“Still waiting on my Uber.” She neglected to mention she hadn’t ordered it yet. Her eyes tracked him as he came to stand in front of her.

“Ah, see, that’s why I always the follow the golden rule,” he said, “always pick a hotel that’s walking distance from the bar.” A laugh slipped out of her and the edge of his lips curled up.

“That’s a smart rule, I should really remember that.” There was a ghost of a wry smile on her face but it didn’t last. She pulled the jacket tighter around her front. “Were you waiting for me to leave?”

“Nah, I figured you were off on one of your angry power walks. I was hoping I’d catch you on the second lap.” He circled his finger in the air before tilting his head down with a sheepish smile, waiting for her to crack. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, tongue pressed against her cheek, trying not to let him do what he always did. “That was no way to say goodbye.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Her lips pursed in an almost-shrug. “Let me try again." She cleared her throat, brows furrowed in serious. "Good bye, Maxwell. Coming here was a huge mistake and I should have known better!” Her venom from earlier was gone, ending with a biting sweetness. He heaved a sigh, rolling his head back.

"Come on, we were having a good time like...a few minutes ago." His arms crossed in front of his chest and she watched the way his muscles moved under his shirt, desperate not to meet his eye. It was easier this way. Better. Her lips pressed into a tight line, hoping if she didn't argue, he would run himself out of steam. "Look, alright fine. I wasn't always very supportive of your stupid boyfriends." She crooked a brow. "Maybe, some might say, I could be a little bit of a hindrance from time to time."

“A little bit?” She clarified and he held up two fingers, squeezing them close together. "What was the text you sent me while you knew I was getting ready for my valentine's day date with Kevin a few years ago?" She watched his brows knit together before the memory dawned on him and he slowly sucked his lips into his mouth. Clearing her throat, she held out an exemplary hand. "'Hope you're excited for your date with the data analyst. Bet you can't wait for him to get you in his Toyota Camry so he can bring you back to his mom's basement for some clothes-on, lights-off sex before he turns on Jeopardy for the night.'" She carried out her best impression of him and he tried unsuccessfully to mask his amusement. She continued with a more urgent tone. "'Try not to think about that night after the concert out in Manhattan. You know, with that crowded train back to your place and my hand sliding up your skirt? If you think about the shaking orgasm you had, sitting on my lap, in front of a bunch of strangers, you might end up feeling a little dissatisfied tonight!"

"Wow, you really had that one well memorized." Was all he could manage. That one really was one of his prouder moments - it didn't take more than two weeks before she broke up with Kevin after that. And boy, did that only stroke his ego.

"Yeah, that's cause it played on repeat in my head for the entirety of my date!" She glared at him but his fond smile ensured it didn't last.

"That really was a fun night. The one and only time I've ever enjoyed public transportation."

He had nearly forgotten about that night on the train. It really felt like a turning point, when he looked back - when they stopped wanting each other and started needing each other. The point where every relationship she had after just started to feel like it was biding time until she was his again.

Max watched, in the dim light of the alleyway, as a flush rose up her chest. Her eyes met his with the hazy look he'd missed so much and he took a step closer without even realizing it; her breathing shallowed.

"Tucked in that back corner of the train car with you on my lap..." His eyes raked over her frame, covered by his bulky jacket, and she warmed head to toe. "...grinding that perfect little ass into me." Riley shifted her weight again, swallowing hard. She should have known better than to bring up that night.

"Max..." Her voice came out breathy and needy, glancing around, almost hoping there was someone else around as she felt her self control slipping away. He took a small step closer and she stepped back, against the brick wall, damp with the sporadic rain this evening.

"And you spread those legs so nice and easy for me so you could ride my thigh." His voice was low, smooth and hypnotic, she hardly even noticed as he took another step closer, his heat searing through her. Her lips, slightly swollen from the way she'd dug her teeth in, parted with a breath and his voice dropped to a gritty whisper. "Do you remember how the vibration of the train felt on your pussy? I barely had to touch you to make you fall apart for me."

He wasn't really sure what he was doing anymore but he fell back into it like it was second nature. Because it was. There was no space for him to consider his actions, there was only her and this moment and the way she was looking up at him. That look turned his brain off every time.

Then she was nodding without meaning to, and his hand cleared the little distance between them, skating up her hip, feather-light but setting fire throughout her body.

"My lips were on your neck, listening for every little whine you tried so hard to keep quiet while I helped you rock against me." His hand skimmed along the curve of her waist, helping rock her into him, just like he did back then. "Do you think anybody heard that sweet little noise you made when I reached under your skirt, pushed your panties aside, and sank two fingers into your cunt?"

The shuttered breath Riley released came out closer to a whimper and Max's eyes fluttered closed, resting his forehead against hers for just a few moments. God, those noises did something to him. His fingers found purchase around her hip, the other hand cradling her jaw. Eyes locking with hers, he smoothed his thumb across her cheek, brushing her lips. Without a thought, she took his finger into her mouth, not breaking his eye contact as she ran her tongue over it like she had a million times. Max groaned, the noise vibrating through her, and his eyes blazed with a scarcely contained lust.

"Riley..." It was a rumble of a warning. He dragged his thumb out of her mouth, across her bottom lip, trailing it down her chin, then back up across her lips before finally pulling it away. She watched a war rage behind his eyes, fingers digging into her side so tight she thought it might bruise. In an instant, her brain came slamming back into her head and she jerked away from him.

"Shit." She muttered, running a shaky hand through her hair. "Fucking shit, you see?" She took several skittering steps away from him. "How do you do that to me? I came out here to leave but instead, I take one look at you and become some brain-dead whore."

"Wait, Riley..." He took a step in her direction but quickly stopped himself, watching as she steered herself in circles. She stopped as abruptly as she started and snapped toward him.

“No, I really shouldn’t be here. I need to go.” She was looking a bit like a caged animal so Max took a big step back, holding his hands up in front of him.

“Your Uber is bound to be here soon. Just-“

“I never ordered it. I’m just gonna walk I think. I could use the air.” She breezed past him out of the alleyway. He sat back on his heel, stunned for a moment before jogging after her.

“I’m not just gonna let you walk back alone.” He said, catching up to her without much trouble. She didn’t look at him.

“I’m fine, it’s only like a thirty minute walk. I’ll be fine.” She powered ahead, trying to get some distance but his legs moved him a lot faster than she could outpace. He just rolled his eyes.

“Alone and slightly drunk? At midnight? In a town that’s currently flooded with your fanboys? Please. That’s literal suicide.” He circled around in front of her. She tried to step around him but he stepped in her path, then again in the other direction. Finally, she stopped, rolling her eyes.

“You’re the one most likely to try to have sex with me out here.” She put a hand on her hip and Max shook his head, tongue pressed against his teeth. Always a fight with her.

“Stop being ridiculous. I swear-” he crossed two fingers over his heart, “-I will be on my best behavior. But I am not letting you walk back alone.” She hesitated, arms crossed over her chest, looking around at the dimly-lit, hotel lined street they were on. It was at least thirty straight minutes of bars and booked-solid convention hotels between here and her hotel. One she’d chosen specifically because she wanted to stay away from the action.

“Fine but I want you to stay six feet away from me at all times.” She shooed him back with her hands. He sat back on his heel, narrowing his brows at her with an irritated purse of his lips.

“You can’t be be serious.”

“Deadly. I am trying to get some space from you and you’re following me. So if you want to stick around, get back.” She jut her chin out and Max swiped his tongue across the inside of his lip with irritation.

“You’re such a pain in my ass. I should just let the mouth breathers at you.”

“At least they’d have respect for Captain Clarissa.” She said, mostly because she enjoyed being a pain in his ass, and started the long walk, past him, to her hotel. He just rolled his eyes, following after her at the agreed upon distance.

“Yeah, that’s the quality to look for in the strange, sweaty man that finds you wandering the streets alone.” It came out huffy and irritated but she didn’t so much as acknowledge him. “So you never ordered an Uber, hmm?” He knew that smug tone would get a reaction out of her and it did, her face snapping back to him for just a second. “You just stormed out of the bar all upset and then waited for me to come find you?”

Her face burned red and she was glad he couldn’t see her. She wasn’t entirely sure why she didn’t call the Uber. She knew it needed to happen. She wanted to go home but her fingers just didn’t want to move. Paralyzed by the way their conversation in the bar had gone.

“Even when I took over five minutes to come out? You just sat there, still not ordering the Uber?” He taunted and she kept her head trained forward. “How long were you gonna wait for me? If I stayed until close, would you still have been sitting there, waiting to put my fingers in your mouth?” He heard her sharp intake of breath and counted that as a victory. “God, you must have really missed me to sit out in the cold with no jacket, hoping I’d chase after you.”

“Jesus Christ,” she groaned. “I forgot how much you like to hear yourself talk.” But he continued like she hadn’t said a thing. He wasn’t hearing a refute and that was causing a pang of excitement in his gut.

“You know, I feel like this really starts to call into question everything you’ve said tonight.” He kept poking because he couldn’t help himself and she considered flinging herself into traffic to escape him. “Like, maybe I’m the one that’s really in danger, being out here alone with you. Who knows what you could do to my precious body?”

“I thought you said you were going to be on your best behavior.” She tried to remind him, knowing it was ultimately useless.

“That was before I realized just how dangerous you were. Laying in wait for me, making up stories about Ubers that don’t exist. Were you even really a guest at that convention? How do I know this wasn’t some elaborate ruse to stage your little meet cute with me?”

“I’m pretty sure a meet cute requires us to be ‘meeting’, Max. And, as you’ll remember, we’ve met before.” She really was trying not to give in to his teasing. Because that was a slippery slope. But it was a slope she was already on.

“Maybe we haven’t! Maybe you’re not even Riley, just some hot clone looking to steal my perfect organs. Do you even really work for the CW or is that a lie too?” He gestured in the air behind her. Her steps faltered, though, quiet ringing out into the night around them.

“I don’t, actually. Not as of next week.” Her voice was strained but she put her focus back into moving forward.

“What are you talking about?” Max didn’t miss that shift in her tone. She’d been bordering on playful before but this was different. It was the tone she’d used when she told him they couldn’t talk anymore.

“They cancelled my show.”

“What?” His heart dropped out of his chest and, without realizing, he upped his pace until he fell in line with her. She didn’t stop him, though - even when his fingers grazed hers, the frizzle of lightning shooting up her arm.

“Yup. They had to fire Lucas because of…well because of the interns.” She gestured at nothing, still trying to come to grips with the reality herself, “And according to the network executives, the inspiring Captain Clarissa is - and I quote - ‘fundamentally unlikable without her boyfriend’.” There was no amount of venom that could come close to touching the level of anger she was feeling.

It had been weeks since she learned the show was being cancelled but that burning, sweltering rage hadn’t ebbed. She knew the show couldn’t last forever - hell, she didn’t want it to! But having it be cancelled like this - over him. It was more than she could stand.

“Are you fucking kidding? That’s bullshit!” He didn’t think it was possible for him to hate Lucas more but this did it.

“Not kidding at all. Apparently, it wasn’t enough that I had to lose my boyfriend in the most embarrassing scandal of the year, I also needed to lose my job. Karma decided to punch me square in the throat.” She had been using karma as an excuse for nearly every bad thing that happened to her since she cut ties with Max, though. It didn’t seem possible for the scales to tip back in her favor at this point. It was all earned. “They said it was better to cut their losses now than to waste money on a full season flop.” She hadn't been able to chase those words out of her head. Every second of that phone call with her team was seared into her brain.

“Please, Ry, that’s not karma at work, that’s a bunch of old, out-of-touch morons, actively steering a bankrupt network into the ground. Fuck those dudes.” He insisted but she just kicked a rock along the road, unable to look at him. “How have I not heard about this?”

“They wanted to wait until after the convention to make the announcement. Wouldn’t want to risk losing out on wringing me out for every last penny.” Yeah, she was feeling a little bitter about it. That wasn’t something she could hide anymore. This convention today just felt like salt in the wound.

“God, that’s such horseshit.” There was nothing he could say to lessen this, though. “I’m so sorry, Ry.”

“It’s just so dumb because like…I really thought I was doing something here, you know?” She sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. After weeks of staying quiet, the rockslide of feelings was already barely restrained. “Like sure, the writing was cheesy and the plots could be convoluted but I was doing something that meant something. I was creating a character for little girls to look up to. But god, I was so stupid and naive. Just like I was with Lucas. Because I was never the independent, ass kicking, trail blazer I thought I was. I was apparently just the stuffy bitch to his maverick.” She dared a glance at Max, his face drawn and serious. She didn’t mean to say that much; she never could stop from spilling everything around him, though.

“You were literally the only watchable part of that show.” He cut off her pity fest as if it was an indisputable fact. “The dude was a pathetic, Han Solo wannabe when it was fucking obvious that you were meant to be the Solo of the show.” It pained him to make a Star Wars reference but that look on her face was totally worth it. Her feet almost skittered to a stop before she caught herself.

“God, see?” She groaned. “Where were you when I tried to explain that to my producers?”

"Look, if those assholes didn't get what you were doing with that character then they don't deserve either of you. This show might have been your big break but I can seriously promise you that it's not your peak. You're just gettin' started." Max bumped her shoulder lightly and the smile that crept up her face was involuntary.

"So just like you then, right?" She raised a brow in his direction and he hummed. "AEW is just your launch pad, so i've heard." He smoothed his tongue over his lip, curious as to just how much she had been paying attention to his career. "For the - let me see if I've got this right - 'bidding war of 2024'?" A warmth bloomed in rippling tides low in his stomach at hearing his words parroted back.

"You know it, baby. Nowhere to go but up." He pointed to the sky and she rolled her eyes with a smile. "Didn't realize you watched much wrestling these days." He did his best to sound like he was teasing her but she could hear the hope in his voice. Tilting her head, she scrunched her nose and shrugged.

"From time to time." She said. "You know, if there's someone cool scheduled to be on." Holding his gaze for a charged moment, she finally dropped it back to the sidewalk, the rolling wave of nerves making its way up to her brain. She cleared her throat, trying to shake off that feeling. "And boy, I just can't wait for my boy, Ricky Starks, to get that world title off the current Jabroni that's got it- what a star!" She choked a laugh at the guffawing noise Max made.

"Riley, there are some levels of disrespect that are just unacceptable." He deadpanned and she tried to keep a straight face.

"I'm sorry, Max, but Ricky is so obviously the best professional wrestler on God's green Earth. How could I not root for him to get the title?" Her tongue poked out between her teeth and the muscles in his face twitched.

"God, you are such a brat." Worried he would end up relegated to six feet away again, he tried not to verbalize the way he wanted to take her back to his room and remind her what he did with brats. But the way she beamed back at him only made him want to say it more, knowing exactly how quickly that smile would fade into that lust-addled gape - that kind he had convinced himself she only got for him.

"You love it." The response rolled off her tongue as easily as it always did and it wasn't until she recognized that look he was giving her that she realized she was feeding the monster. A small breath hissed through her teeth.

The world around them was quiet, the street largely emptied out as more bars began to close. Their pace had slowed to an amble, stealing glances at each other, daring themselves not to drift closer. She tried not to dwell on the way Max didn't respond - or on the way his expression did plenty of responding all on its own. It had been a long time since she'd been looked at like that - like she was the center of the universe and he'd never be able to fight the pull of her gravity.

"For whatever it’s worth, I’m really proud of you, Max.” It was worth a lot. So much so that he had to look away. His mouth was dry and he was a little nauseous - fuck he hated that she was still capable of making him feel like this. He wasn't the bumbling kid trying to make his best friend really see him anymore. At least, he wasn't supposed to be.

"Ahh, shut up, ya softie." He scoffed after a beat too long. Long enough for her to catch that glint in his eyes. She raised her brows for an unspoken emphasis and he rolled his eyes but let slip a reluctant smile that told her everything she needed to know.

"I know, I know, my credibility as an uncaring hardass is in shambles." She bit back the huge grin that tried to surface at his genuine laugh. "But I'm serious. You really did the damn thing and not many people can say that."

"You can." He held her gaze steadily and she toyed with her lip between her teeth. Blinking hard, she finally shook her head with a breathy laugh.

"Hmm, you're right. Guess it's just Long Island that's special, not you." She tilted her head with an indulgent smile and he waved her off.

"Hey, screw you, we can both be special!"

"Yeah, are you Long Island's special-est boy, Maxie?" She poked the beast with a little pout. He groaned, his entire head rolling right along with his eyes. He'd swear she was a brat on purpose, knowing he couldn't do a damn thing about it, but she was starting to give him whiplash.

"Oh, you are so asking for it." He grumbled under his breath but that twinkle of mischief in her eye told him she'd heard.

"Asking for what, Prince Maxie?" She teasingly bit the tip of her tongue.

Max's restraint snapped, unable to physically stop himself from reaching back to swat her ass. Riley squeaked, jumping slightly, letting out an offended huff of breath and coming to a full stop on the sidewalk. She smacked his chest, brows drawn in a laughable excuse for anger. He lowered his head a little, raising a brow, mildly amused.

"You can't do that!" It came out sounding a lot more petulant than she intended. But the wake up call that smack had given her wasn't the one she'd hoped for - it had only stoked the flames she was so desperately trying to keep at bay.

"You know the rules - calling me 'Maxie' is automatic grounds for a spanking." He shrugged as if to say he didn't make the rules that he had, in fact, very much made.

"Those rules don't apply anymore!" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hey, don't be a brat if you can't handle the consequences." He said with finality, starting back on their walk towards the hotel. "I'm trying to behave but you know what you're doing!"

She couldn't even deny it. She couldn't stop falling back into their rhythm. It might not have been intentional but there was no use in pretending she wasn't doing the same things she always knew could rile him up. With a groan, she jogged to catch up with him but her foot snagged on a crack in the sidewalk and she stumbled, arms flying out to keep herself upright. Max turned back with a snicker but offered her a shoulder to steady herself on.

"You know, I'm starting to think your definition of 'walkable' is different from mine." She groaned, pulling off her shoe and snatching the heel that had snapped off from the ground, holding them up to him.

"Hey, my hotel is only another two blocks. You're the one that wants to keep walking another ten beyond that to your hotel." He reminded her and she shivered, that reality settling in with her. The thought alone made her feet throb and she thought she felt a raindrop hit her head. Max knew that look and recognized it well from a few too many times she'd overestimated her ability to get around in heels. And she was starting to become acutely aware of how much Max's jacket did not help keep her legs warm under her dress.

Oh, how she didn't want to have to ask him for help. But she needed help. She couldn't walk ten blocks in a broken heel in the middle of the night by herself. That was insane - she knew that. And she should have just called an uber. She knew she should just call an uber. But for the second time that night, she couldn't will herself to reach for her phone.

"Come back to my room with me." Max said and heat raced through her veins. "I have a pair of sneakers up there you can take. I'll even walk you to your hotel after." She wanted to hit herself over the pang of disappointment she felt when she realized he wasn't inviting her to stay with him. Doubly so over the way she suddenly missed the feeling of falling asleep in his arms. Warm and content and secure and...

"I..."

"Come on, you can't walk back like that. I swear, I'll keep my hands to myself." He locked eyes with her and she nodded; it was all she could manage. "Good, hop on." He turned away from her and patted his back. She froze and he twisted to look back at her. "What are you waiting for? We got two more blocks to my hotel and I'd like to get back before sunrise."

Wetting her lips, she weighed the option of walking back on her broken heel before reluctantly climbing onto his back. Her dress rode up her legs and Max's hands found purchase, curled around the underside of her thighs, supporting her, heat searing through his fingertips, straight to her core.

"So much for hands to yourself." She muttered.

"I'm sorry, would you rather I drop your ass?" He tried to crane his head back to look at her.

"You wouldn't dare." She knew the second it left her mouth that it was a bad idea. He didn't hesitate before letting her legs go and she clung hard around his neck, nails digging into skin and feet scrambling to get hold around his waist.

"Ow, shit!" He swatted hard at her thigh before resuming his hold on it. His other hand pried her nails from his chest. "You fucking gremlin. Why am I even doing this?" She rested her chin in the curve of his neck.

"Cause you're my big, strong knight in shining armor." She heaved a dreamy sigh that tickled his neck. He tried not to think about how perfectly she fit into him or how overwhelming it was to have her scent filling his senses - how familiar and dizzying.

“Yeah, that’s what they call me.” His voice was strained. “World’s biggest gentleman.” He glanced from side to side before jogging through the crosswalk, pretending he couldn’t feel her body bouncing against him with every step. A drop of rain slid down the side of his face.

“Ohhh,” she draped herself more heavily over his shoulders. “That’s what they were saying! I always thought they were saying ‘worlds biggest jackass’.” She craned her neck to try to catch his expression, cheeky smile on her face.

Max arched a brow, angling his head enough to be sure she saw him, lips just barely resisting the urge to smile at her transparently goading him.

“You’re gettin’ awfully brave up there, punk.”

He dug his fingers into her thighs as a reminder, and they restricted around his torso. A heat crept up her chest, so strong that he could feel it, permeating through their clothes. She straightened up slightly, intent on appearing unfazed but a flash of lightning in the distance sufficiently distracted her, just before the crack of thunder followed. With it, the slow trickle of raindrops took a hard turn toward downpour. She squealed, trying in vain to cover her head with her arms, leaning heavy on Max's shoulders for support. He gripped harder at her legs and tried to ignore the water that had just rolled down his sock.

"Come onnn, you're so slow!" She pointed up at his hotel's awning just up ahead. "Lets move move move!" He hiked her up, readjusting his grip on her thighs, before he jogged toward the lobby. She clung around his neck while using her other hand to mimic cracking a whip. "Wuh-psh! Wuh-psh!" He bounded the last few steps, ducking under the awning and out of the rain.

"Yeah? You want to introduce a whip into this dynamic, huh?" Max set her down as they finally arrived at his hotel, his low rumble of a voice crashing through her plans to seem unaffected now that he could see her face. She swallowed hard, blinking back at him, dress soaked through and clinging high up on her thighs, and cheeks dusted with color. Her hair was wet and sticking to her face and he desperately wanted to tangle his fingers up in it. And the way she was looking at him, he really didn't think that she would object.

"Where's your room?" Her voice came out a hoarse whisper and he swallowed hard, forgetting for a moment why they came here in the first place. Clearing his throat, he tried to wrangle some coherent thoughts out of his brain.

"7th floor." He came to, finally.

"Lucky number 7." God, he was starting to hope so.

He led her to the elevator, her arm draped around his shoulder for support. They waited for the elevator to come in a stilted silence, both suddenly struck by the memory of their last time together in an elevator; the bending of wills and the crossing of lines. How far had either of them come? Years had passed and nothing had changed. Except that everything had changed.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open for them. He helped her inside and she leaned against the rail on the far end of the enclosed box it sometimes felt like they lived in. Max pressed the button for his floor and turned to watch her from across the elevator, the few feet between them felt mountainous. Every inch of him was itching to touch her; he wasn't sure how much longer he’d be able to hold off but he was worried he would spook her if he made the wrong move.

She stayed anchored to the railing, unsure she could stop herself from drifting toward him if left untethered. Just like her entire life. But he was looking at her in that way that set her whole body on fire - like he was the only one in the world that really saw her and he never wanted to look away.

"I might have an extra set of sweats you can borrow, too." He offered, and she wet her lips, nodding. Inching towards her, he let his eyes sweep over every inch of her body and he didn't miss the way that she shivered. "You always did look good in my clothes." The elevator chugged along and she could feel her heart in her throat.

"Better than you?" She cooed and Max stepped in closer to her, the air around them warming in an instant.

"Better than anyone." He said with a finality that sent a warmth pooling in her belly. She cursed the blush she knew was visibly creeping up her cheeks.

"Such a flatterer." She tried to come off casual but missed by a mile. He let out a low rumble of a laugh that she felt all the way down to her toes.

"Try telling that to literally anyone else that has ever met me." Max stepped into her space, hands clasping the railing on either side of her hips, and she swallowed hard. "I'm not a flatterer. You're just special." He brushed a wet piece of hair from her face like he had been dying to all night, and she was paralyzed, breathing unsteadily and clutching the railing behind her for all she was worth. It was all she could do to keep from reaching out to touch him. He wound the hair around his finger, eyes so intent before they finally crawled up to meet hers. "God, I fucking missed you."

The ding of the elevator sent her skittering away from him, desperate to catch her breath. She breezed out the doors, into the hallway before realizing she didn't know where she was going. Stopping in her tracks, she reluctantly turned back to him. He was sauntering out of the elevator, watching her with amusement.

"Sorry, I..." She trailed off but he just shook his head with a smirk.

"Just wanted to get into some dry clothes, I'm sure." He offered and she enthusiastically nodded in agreement.

He'd spooked her. He knew it was a possibility but now he was more sure than ever that she wanted to give in. And he wasn't out of time yet.

Waving her after him, he headed for his room, at the far end of the hallway. She limped after him on her broken heel but he let her keep her space for now. Her head was spinning away and she was grateful for the chance to stop her hands from trembling. Two decades now and there was still no one else on the planet that made her shake without even touching her. And it was addictive - she wanted to chase that frenetic, electrifying feeling off a cliff. One taste was all it ever took to remind her that she needed that feeling more than oxygen. And that scared her more than anything.

He finally stopped at his door and she had no choice but to catch up with him. Sliding his key in, he pushed past the door and she followed him inside, ignoring the familiar, gnawing sensation of being helpless to her own bad decision making. The click of the door closing behind her echoed through her veins.

Max made his way over to his suitcase as Riley stood in the center of the room, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Arms crossed over her chest, she watched him rifle through his clothes, hair dripping into his face. He made a little 'tch' noise as he pulled out a precisely folded white dress shirt, tossing aside a belt that had been tucked into the collar. Reaching back, he tossed it to her and she caught it on instinct, her brow furrowed. Glancing from the shirt, back up to him, she moved to hold it up.

"What is this?" She demanded and he only shrugged, pulling out a pair of socks that he lobbed at her.

"A shirt." He answered plainly and she rolled her eyes, holding up the pair of boxers that were tucked beneath the shirt. "I only have one pair of sweatpants so I thought I'd let you have my shirt for tomorrow. I'd be happy to switch but I figured you'd prefer to get the top and have me take the bottoms. Especially since that shirt will be a dress on you." She paused, considering the options.

"What about your pants for tomorrow? Can't I wear those? I can rock business casual." She tried to peer into his bag and he shook his head with a rueful laugh.

"Unfortunately for us both, these are my pants for tomorrow." He gestured at the sopping pants that were clinging to his thighs. "Some jackass spilled coffee all down my other pair. You can take the suit jacket, though, if you think looking like a ten year old on take-your-daughter-to-work-day is your new look." She rolled her eyes, scoffing, but he was unfazed, peeling the damp shirt off his body. Her gaze lingered, wandering up and down his frame.

He was in much better shape than she remembered. She barely even registered the few steps she took in his direction, but he sure did. Getting close enough to touch, she finally snapped out of the trance, stopping short. Max chuckled to himself, loving watching how she squirmed for him.

"How am I supposed to walk ten more blocks with no pants?" She put a fist on her hip, boxers clutched between her fingers. He tilted his head with an exasperated sigh.

"You seriously still want to walk back to your hotel now? Riley, its pouring!"

"What's my alternative?" She asked as if it wasn't obvious.

"You're really gonna make me ask?" He let his head hang to the side but she was wide-eyed and he heaved a sigh. He had really hoped it was obvious. "Stay with me." A hiss escaped between her teeth and he held up his hands like he was taming a wild horse. "At least until the rain stops."

She lingered where she was for a few moments, glancing out the window behind him as another flash of lightning illuminated the city, then down at the nice, dry shirt in her hands. Her feet throbbed beneath her and she finally nodded.

"Just until the rain stops. Then, I need to go back to my hotel." She pointed an accusatory finger at him and he held his hands up in concession.

-

It didn't take long for her to come out of the bathroom, dressed in his clothes, the first few buttons undone, and Max had to physically restrain himself from falling to his knees. Fuck, he'd missed the sight of her like that. What he wouldn't give to get her like that, curled up on his couch every Sunday afternoon. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He kicked himself for the thought. This wasn't what this was and he knew it. This was the best he could get and he needed to be okay with that.

She gravitated toward him, eyes roaming across his bare chest, and down to where his sweats were hanging low on his hips. Wetting her lips, she attempted to swallow back the ball of nerves that was lodged in the back of her throat. He offered up a glass from the minibar, filled with a shot of amber liquid. She didn't hesitate before tilting it back into her mouth. It burned on the way down but the warmth that bloomed in her stomach was worth it, dulling the edges of her nerves.

"Whiskey." She hissed and he tilted the handle toward her in acknowledgement.

"You're so going to hate yourself tomorrow." He was right; she was certain of it. Holding his gaze, she took the bottle from him, filling her glass halfway up, and shooting the whole thing back.

“I’d better make it worth it, then.” She sank down into the chair beside the mini bar, crossing her legs. Max shot back his glass, trying to keep eyes on her, worried she might disappear if he looked away. Pouring them each another shot, he took his, leaning against the edge of the desk. She knew, somewhere deep in the back of her brain, that adding more alcohol to this situation was playing with fire, but she was wound so tight right now, she thought she might snap.

“Well, if you’re looking to double down, maybe we should go for a drinking game to help pass the time until the rain stops.” He suggested, a devilish glint in his eye, but she just laughed.

“And you made fun of me for drinking tequila? We aren’t teenagers, sneaking out to drink under your parents dock.” She tried not to think about all the other things they’d done under that dock.

“Come on, for old times sake.” His toothy grin should have been sending out warning signals to her brain but she couldn’t focus on them with his abs on display.

“Fine, one quick game.” She conceded. “What do you want to play?”

“Never have I ever?” He gave a crooked grin and she waved him off.

“Please. You know everything I’ve ever done.”

“Alright, fine, then how about fast facts? Let’s see how well you still know me.” And that was a challenge he knew she couldn’t resist.

“Oh, you’re on.”

They settled in on the couch in the corner and she tried to keep as much distance between them as she could but their knees met in a fizzing graze despite her effort.

“Alright, you know the rules: we do rapid-fire. If you take longer than three seconds or respond with anything other than a true fact about the other person, you drink.” He reviewed and she nodded an acceptance. “Ladies first, sweetheart.” She didn’t hesitate. Her wealth of Max knowledge knew no bounds.

“You ended up in the hospital when you were ten because you got your grandma’s knitting needle stuck up your nose.”

“You dared me to do that!” He defended, still managing to sneak in under the games’ rules. That twinkle of mischief was right there in her eyes still as she held back her laugh.

“You once ate a Babybel cheese wheel with the wax still on!" She shot back and he gaped at her.

"You told me I was supposed to!" He narrowed his eyes at her but she merely shrugged, scrunching her nose.

"When you were thirteen, your grandma walked in on you french kissing a poster of Stacy Keibler."

"Wrong!" He mimicked the sound of a buzzer. "I was fourteen. Drink up." He looked smug but she only laughed at him as she tipped back her drink.

"That is not better." She shook her head but he was unashamed, lounging back into the corner of the couch, arms spread across the tops of the cushions. "Alright, your turn. Why don't you try to come up with an actual fact about me this time instead of just skimming off my answers, hmm? I'm starting to think you don't know me at all." Max considered for a moment, eyeing her up and down. That was a challenge he couldn't leave unanswered.

"You're allergic to sesame seeds; the taste of cinnamon toothpaste makes you gag; you make the greatest lemon bars of any human on earth; and you think there aren't enough yellow houses in the world." He rattled off his short list, not moving from his position in the corner. Riley wet her lips, ghost of a smile begging to bleed through. "Do any of those count as actual facts?" Her fingers tightened around her glass and she nodded. "Perfect, your turn."

"You broke the nose off the school statue."

"You failed your drivers test five times." He grinned, watching the irritation ticked above her brow, her mouth gaping in a desperate urge to protest.

"You had a wet dream in Mr. Sampson's world lit class!"

"Shut up!" He broke. "That is not what happened!" But she just tutted, signaling for him to take a drink; they both knew it was close enough to the truth. Glaring at her, he tossed back a shot before refilling both their glasses. "I told you about that in confidence, not so it could be used against me." She pouted, legs curled under her, laying her head down onto her forearm, dangling across the top of the couch, dangerously close to Max's, just daring a spark to catch.

"Sorry, baby, that's showbiz."

"Alright, fine, then i'm upping the ante." He sat upright, causing their arms to bump, sending goosebumps rising all across her skin. Max was starting to feel the effects of his last few shots take hold but there was no way he was stopping now. "Your first kiss was cut short by having the guy sneeze directly into your mouth!" She gasped, smacking the couch arm to show her displeasure.

"You lost your virginity to a horse girl!" She pointed at him.

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did - Molly McClannaugh!"

"I never slept with Molly! She never let me get past second base." He scoffed and Riley stilled, brows furrowing. A lump the size of Jupiter plummeted from his throat to the pit of his stomach.

"Who did you lose your virginity to, then?" She sipped absent mindedly at her drink now, trying to rack her brain for the other girls he had been with in high school. Max froze, too buzzed to properly guard the reaction from seeping into his face. "Wait..."

"I don't...uh."

"That night of the pool party, after I caught Mike with Savannah...our first..." She tried to capture his gaze but he was focusing on taking down more of his drink. "Was that your first time?' His eyes scaled back up to her, the answer clear as day on his face, and Riley blinked back her surprise. A bizarre warmth bloomed in her chest at the thought, turning that night over in her mind. "Why didn’t you say anything?" She had been so certain that he lost his virginity way before she ever lost hers.

"Was I supposed to formally announce it as I was taking your panties off?" He shrugged like he hadn't purposefully avoided telling her. She had been so cute when she came up to his room that next day to nervously assure him that she knew he didn't do the 'girlfriend' thing and that she understood the previous night had been casual. And when she oh-so-politely asked him if he would be interested in doing it again from time to time - as friends, of course - what else was he supposed to say? He certainly wasn't going to say no.

"No, but maybe sometime in the following decade?" She suggested, trying to duck into his line of sight that he had been strategically keeping away from her.

He truthfully couldn't believe it took this long for the truth to come out. It had almost slipped out on a dozen different late nights together. But he knew that if he brought it up, he would have a hard time holding back the deluge of hidden thoughts that were kept behind that dam. He spent years being just a nudge away from telling her to stop screwing around with dirt bags that didn't deserve her, and see what was right in front of her. He'd probably end up waxing on about how they were meant for each other. His feelings for her were so messy and entwined with that first night together; he couldn't promise he wouldn't end up letting her know that he wanted her to be his first and his last. So instead, he coasted, over and over, letting them go in the same circle until he thought he'd be sick. Maybe this time he'd say something, maybe next time, maybe, maybe, maybe.

"Hey, it's not my fault that I had such natural skill that you couldn't tell it was my first time." He waved her off, worried she would keep digging and trap him into admitting more things he had painstakingly kept to himself over the years. "Now drink up." She conceded, holding her glass up in a toast to no one before shooting it back.

"I can't believe you never told me that."

"Aht, aht!" He stopped her before she could drag this conversation out a second longer. "Drink again. That's not a fact about me."

"You're just trying to get me drunk now." She scowled, pouring another drink to sip at, the warmth swimming in her veins now palpable.

"I am not! Maybe you just don't know me as well as you thought you did.” He nudged her, knowing she couldn't resist fighting that accusation.

"Oh, I know you Maxwell. Better than anybody else in the world." Even after all these years apart, she was probably still right.

"Prove it then." And he knew that would seal it. Her brows furrowed with determination and he let out a subtle breath of relief knowing he had diverted her for now.

"Fine. When you went away to college, you started smoking cigarettes for some girl in your theater class, but it didn't last past Thanksgiving because your mom refused to let you in the house smelling like that." She raised a brow and Max nodded his approval. Though, technically she was wrong on the second point. He only ever even started smoking cigarettes because she wouldn’t shut up about how hot she thought it was that her new boyfriend smoked. But when he saw her at Thanksgiving, she mentioned that she was already tired of the taste when she kissed the guy. And she looked at him like what she really missed was the taste of him. He stopped on the spot.

“You are the only person I know that thinks that Billy Joel has a flawless discography.” He wagged an accusatory finger in her direction. Her face and her hands went through a journey of animated expressions before she finally shook her head, holding up a finger right back at him.

"Okay, first of all, I'm right. Please have some respect for the King of Long Island, the King of Music, the King of My Heart - William Martin Joel." She pressed her hand over her heart with a hurt expression. "The man doesn't miss." Max rolled his eyes, using his free hand to mime a mouth blabbing. "Second of all, drink up because I can tell you for a firm fact that your mother agrees with me." He gawked at her.

"Since when are you talking to my mother about Billy Joel?"

"Since always; I love Nina!" She shifted more in his direction, crossing her legs. "We have a long standing game of online Scrabble going." Max pushed his tongue into his cheek, eyes wide.

"Unbelievable. You haven't spoken to me in four god damn years but you're still playing Words with Friends with my mom?" He demanded, shaking his head in disbelief before finally taking his drink.

Placing his glass on the table, he readjusted himself, pulling one leg up onto the couch, knee bent and nestled right against her thigh, heat searing through him. His eyes finally snagged on the small glimpse of his boxers that was peaking out from under the massively oversized shirt she had on. Suddenly, he was all too aware of his hands and their desire to roam. He squeezed them both shut - one on top of the couch, the other on his thigh - in an attempt to displace some of that energy.

But she was watching, finger daintily gliding over the rim of her glass, eyes drawn to the way the muscles in his forearm flexed each time he did. Her gaze crawled up his forearms to his chest, watching the way it rose and fell before finally returning to his face. They had drifted closer to each other than she'd realized.

Breaking eye contact, she glanced down at the table, busying herself with pouring him another shot. The air suddenly felt much thinner and she needed a few seconds to catch her breath. Steadying herself, she shook the feeling out and handed him his refill, his hand lingering on hers for a beat.

"You like to sing songs from musicals in the shower." She took a hard left turn, steering them back to the game before he could suck her in. Max breathed a laugh, shaking his head; she was so predictable.

"You make a great duet partner." His eyes raked down her frame, memories flooding in of some of their showers together, from the wildly sexy to the silly to the unbearably tender and intimate. They'd had a lot of good showers.

"You make a surprisingly good pot roast." She missed when he would cook for her. Before she started dating Jonah, it was the longest she had ever been single since her and Max first got together. They both had their own places and, even if they were living hours from each other, they spent a lot of weekends together. Watching movies, cooking meals together, sleeping in the same bed, pretending this was really their lives. She missed those weekends more than she wanted to admit.

"You made my first apartment feel like home." It slipped out before he could stop it, his brain having escaped to the same place as hers. Riley's lips parted with a breath, eyes locking with his.

"Yeah..." She hummed, unwittingly letting herself settle even more snugly into him until his arm was essentially around her, resting on the top of the couch, their bodies side by side, straddling the line she was trying so hard not to cross. "You were the best roommate I never had." His chest ached, looking down at her, fitting together with him as perfectly as she always had.

"God, I miss watching you dance around that kitchen in just my shirt." He sighed the thought into existence, brushing her hair behind her ear, sending sparks straight down her spine. Her smile was involuntary as the memories floated through her mind.

"Distracting you while you made me pancakes that inevitably burned because you'd end up bending me over the countertop instead." Her cheeks burned at the way his eyes darkened. His finger delicately trailed along her shirt collar, down her sternum to the first button, eyes greedily drinking in every inch of her, exactly as she was.

"Using that spatula for much more important things than pancakes." His tongue swiped across his lips, mouth suddenly very dry. She was looking up at him from under her lashes, her feet propped up on the table in front of her putting those smooth, bare legs out on display for him.

"Leaving welts that I'd feel every minute of the drive home." Warmth pooled low in her stomach, their game long forgotten.

“Good,” his lips curled in a devilish grin, shifting so he loomed over her, “that’s what you get for being a punk.”

“Oh, is that right?” her knuckles ghosted across the toned skin of his stomach in an electrifying tease.

"Mmm, completely deserved." He hummed, toying with the button of her shirt, daring her to stop him. "You knew what you were doing and you got exactly what you were looking for." The tip of his finger skimmed down the length of the shirt, tantalizingly slow, and she swallowed hard, eyes drifting up to meet his.

"Well, now, I'm sure I don't know what you mean." That silky tone in her voice lit a fire in Max's belly. She was lighting matches she wouldn't be able to contain.

"You don't, hmm?" His finger swirled circles around her stomach. She shook her head, batting her lashes, and Max pressed his tongue to his cheek before letting out a low rumble of a laugh. "So you don't remember that little show you put on for me? Swaying your hips," his finger swept from side to side, leaving a faint impression in the fabric of the shirt, "showing off that perfect little ass."

Riley shifted in place, legs pressed together and her breathing jagged. Her knuckles still held firmly in place on his abdomen, quickly becoming the only stopper between their bodies. Her brain was a fog of scarcely contained desires, clouding every logical thought that was trying to claw it's way to the surface.

"So my crime was dancing?" She raised a brow, thumb absently grazing over his skin.

"No," Max's finger trailed down, off the shirt and onto her bare thighs. Riley shivered. "your crime was traipsing over to me, wrapping your arms around me from behind, and stroking my dick through my pants."

"I thought you liked that." She pouted, head lolling back dramatically onto his chest, eyes still angled up to him.

"Oh, I do." He traced his finger up to her knee, then oh-so-slowly dragged it back down the inside of her thigh like a trail of gasoline, ready to ignite. Blaring alarm bells sounded in her head as his fingers toyed with the edge of the shirt, but it didn't stop her knees from drifting apart just enough to give him clearance. Hand dipping beneath the shirt, he gingerly crept up that soft skin that he missed so much. He reached the apex of her thighs, using the pad of his thumb to brush against her core through the thin fabric of the boxers, sending shockwaves reverberating through her body, temporarily obliterating every sane thought she'd ever had. Her back arched as he circled his thumb over her clit, the fabric of his boxers a welcome friction. "I just don't like when little teases," he curled his free arm around her shoulders, fingers settling in her hair, "get me all wound up and then waltz away." He pulled his hand out from under her shirt and she let out an involuntary whimper. Max smirked, watching her melt right into the palm of his hand. "And when I very politely asked you to get your ass back over here, you turned around and said 'make me'. What else was I supposed to do with you once I caught you?"

In one smooth motion, he wrapped a strong hand around her thigh, yanking it up over his legs, leaving her spread wide for him. She squeaked, skin blazing beneath his fingers. He used his fingers in her hair to guide her eyes up to his. Thick digits dug into the sensitive skin of her thighs, sliding a possessive grip up to her center. Stopping just short of her core, he gave a sharp slap that echoed around the room. She couldn't stop the desperate whine that escaped her lips. Max dug his nails into the stinging flesh of her thigh.

"What am I supposed to do with you now that I've caught you?" He thrummed his fingers along her thigh, predator taunting his prey. She bit her lip hard, hips rocking up toward him involuntarily, and Max chuckled, low in his throat. "Do you miss the way I filled this perfect pussy, sweetheart?" His hand cupped her mound through the boxers and she let out a sharp breath, body stiffening. "Did your actor-boy ever touch you the way I do?" He curled his middle finger, teasing her lips, and she mewled. "Did he stretch your little cunt like he was made for it?" All she could manage was rutting her hips against his hand. "Did he make you cum until you cried - until you were shaking and exhausted and begging for mercy?" He throbbed in his pants; she was so fucking close he could practically taste her. Bringing his fingers up to his face, he smelled that familiar sweet scent of her, and his final bit of restraint snapped. "God, I fucking missed you."

There was no room to think when he pulled her face to his. They collided in a frenzied rush that she couldn't begin to resist. She melted into him, letting his tongue sweep into her mouth. He didn't hesitate to yank the boxers down her legs, fingers diving between her soaked folds. Her head tipped back, a strangled cry erupting from her chest, into the space between them, and Max grinned, burying his face into her neck. He sank one, then two fingers inside her and she keened, bucking against his hand.

"That's my fucking girl. Such a needy little pussy." He nipped at her neck, pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb working tight circles around her clit. Arm wrapped tight around her, he pulled her up to straddle his lap, keeping his fingers buried inside her. His other hand wound up in the hair at the base of her head, dragging her back into a hungry, desperate kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck, steadying herself as she ground down against his fingers. "That's right, ride my fingers, beautiful; ride 'em like they were my cock. Always such a good girl for me."

Her brain whirled in a million different directions, clouded by a haze of unrelenting need, left unchecked for years. She met his gaze, a white hot fire burning in his eyes. This didn't feel real, her brain tried desperately to make sense of how she ended up here, hips stuttering, but Max's fingers were curling into just the right spot and she struggled to keep up with her thoughts.

"God, so fucking wet for me, Riley."

But her name was so very real. Real enough to jump start her brain like a live wire and send her skittering off his lap. Fuck, this couldn't keep happening. How did this always happen? And now he was looking at her with all that confusion and hurt and decades of push and pull, shining clear as day on his face.

She smoothed the shirt down over her hips, covering up as much as she could without pants. Max was clearly waiting for an explanation, arms sagging down into the couch, empty of all the things that had been so close to his reach for the first time in so long.

"I...I'm sorry. I really don't know what is wrong with me."

"Riley, come on." He protested, holding out a hand to encourage her to come back to him but she just wrapped her arms around herself. She glanced out the window behind them and made a desperate attempt to hide from the reality of tonight.

"The rains stopped. I should go, its really late." She stumbled back a few steps, clearing the coffee table and Max stood up after her.

“You can’t walk back with no pants on, drunk, at two in the morning, Riley. Be reasonable.”

“I am. I’ll just throw my dress back on and finally call a damn Uber like I should have done hours ago.” She rolled the sleeves up on the shirt and started hunting around for her dress. Max followed after her but she refused to look at him.

“Stop it. You can't just leave like that." He said, plucking the dress off the chair she'd left it on earlier. She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him before jutting a hand out, demanding the dress.

"Watch me." She snatched the fabric from his hands, spinning on her heel, but Max caught her wrist, still sending sparks all up her arm.

"How fucking long are you going to keep running?" He watched her face falter, then harden, and irritation ticked up in him.

"I'm not running. This is just a bad idea - a really bad idea. So I need to walk away now - not run! Just make a completely rational and sane decision to walk away."

"How is this rational?" His irritation was biting through. "You have been running away from me for years. You're running away now just like you did four years ago and just like you did when you started dating Jonah. What are you so fucking scared of, huh?" Her brow twitched and she finally yanked her hand away from him.

“I’m scared because being around you makes me want to do irrational things!”

“Like what?” He demanded. “What have I ever made you do that was so monstrous?” She put a hand on her hip, glowering at him, but he only scoffed. “You can’t be serious. Still about Jonah? When are you gonna forgive yourself? It’s been five years!”

“We hurt him!”

“So what?” He practically bellowed. “He’s probably already forgotten it even happened; he’s an idiot! Let yourself off the hook.”

“I can’t!” She shot back, finally putting years of thoughts kept to herself into words. “I can’t because it doesn’t matter who I’m with, I can’t control myself around you.” She shook her head and Max cocked his head, hardly seeing the problem. “Given the slightest nudge, I’m going to end up making the exact same choices over and over again.”

“What’s so wrong with that? What is so wrong with choosing us?”

“It’s not fair to everyone else around us, Max!”

“Who gives a shit?” He snapped, increasingly annoyed he needed to spell it out. “It’s not about them! It’s about us,” he gestured between them, “me and you, Riley, just like it always has been. Just like it always will be.” She was frozen, goosebumps rising over every inch of her skin. “At the end of the fucking world, it’s still just gonna be you and me.”

“Max…” She breathed his name into the space between them, heart twisting in her chest. Her face was stricken and his stomach lurched. “I can’t do this dance forever.”

“Why not?” He was earnest, painfully so, that same bumbling teenager still taking his toll. Gravity was pulling him toward her but he fought it with all his strength, not sure he could take it if she backed away from him.

“Because it hurts too much.” And her voice trembled just enough for him to catch it, crumbling something inside him that he didn’t know existed. “Every relationship I have ever been in has been a battle against my instincts to cancel plans in case you decide to call; against my instinct to end things with a guy after the first date because he doesn’t compare to you; against my instinct to doom every single relationship I'm ever in, all for a guy that will never want to give me what I need.”

“You can’t be serious.” He balked and it knocked her off balance. “When have I literally ever said no to you? You are the only person on the entire godforsaken planet that I will bend over backwards to make happy.” He was bordering on angry now, heat creeping up the back of his neck. He would have bent time and space to keep her from leaving. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I would’ve given you everything you ever asked for?” The soft, devastated features of her face were pleading him to stop but he couldn’t.

“Of course it did.” She scrubbed a hand over her face, body sagging. “But even on the days that I thought you might agree to a relationship that you didn’t really want - ”

“What makes you so sure I wouldn’t want it?” He crossed his arm over his chest and she rolled her eyes. Scoffing, he took a step toward her.

“Be serious.”

“I am! What gave you the impression I wouldn’t really want a relationship with you?” He held out an expectant hand for an answer and she searched the ceiling for an answer, shaking her head incredulously.

“How about the hundred different times over the years that you explicitly told me you could never see yourself settling down and that - quote - relationships are for suckers?” She held a sarcastic hand back at him, raising her brows with a sneer.

“Oh, come on, Riley!” He pleaded, genuinely surprised it wasn’t obvious to her. “You are the exception to every rule.” He shook his head, taking a step closer but she didn’t budge. “I didn’t see myself ever settling down with anyone but you.” He pressed his luck, taking another step. “I’d be a sucker if I got into a relationship with anyone but you.” She heaved a sigh, shaking her head. It’s not like there weren’t days she thought he might want a life with her. Hell, there were days where it felt like they had a life together - glimpses at a different lifetime where puzzle pieces fit together and the boy next door is the love of your life - but that wasn’t this lifetime. Or maybe it was but that didn’t make her the love of his.

“It doesn’t even matter.” She finally took a step back, suddenly acutely aware of how close he’d gotten and the way it was clouding her brain. “Even if you had agreed, even if you had really thought it was what you wanted, how long was that gonna last? How long until the thrill wore off and you finally got bored of me like you did with every other girl you’ve ever met?”

“Oh good fucking god, Riley!” He fumed, charging toward her and taking her face forcefully between his hands. “I could fucking shake you. What is it going to take to get it through your head that you aren’t any other girl to me?” His touch scorched her skin and short circuited her brain. Fuck, she couldn’t think straight when he was this close. “This isn’t some stupid high school crush anymore. It’s been twenty goddamn years of wanting to be near you so badly it hurts.” He let his hands fall to his sides but he didn’t budge from his spot. “I’ve been as close as it gets more times than I can count and it’s never close enough.” Her brain whirred, confusion, disbelief, and anger cycling through in rapid succession.

“Well you never said that, Max!” She finally shot back. “How was I supposed to know I was some unspoken exception to a rule! All I knew was that every time I thought we might be headed somewhere, I’d test the waters only to be told you would sooner fake your own death than commit to one woman. What was I supposed to think?” She smoothed her palms down her thighs to silence the way her hands were trembling. “I couldn’t risk it.” His face hardened, brows drawn into a harsh line.

“Right, better to cut me out of your life all together.” The venom in his voice was hardly contained but she was nearing her wits end. A long, emotional day combined with the tail end of half a dozen shots meant that her filter was wearing down to nothing.

“Fine. I’m a coward - is that what you want to hear?” She used her foot to push off the wall she was trapped against, forcibly moving past Max, and bumping his shoulder. It bought her a few valuable seconds to breath and forget the way his eyes boared into her. Getting her space didn’t mend her weary filter, though. “I didn’t think I’d survive it if we made a real go of it and you got bored of me.” Her body turned back to him on instinct alone, a hurt she had fictionalized over and over again playing out on her face. “I’ve been cheated on by a lot of guys but you…? I’d never recover from that.” The hurt in his chest only read as anger. Her stomach dropped.

“Cheat on you? For fucks sake, have a little faith in me.” He scoffed but his eyes softened as they grazed over her. He might have been a little subtle over the years about just how snugly he was wrapped around her finger but he really thought she understood. “You really think, after everything you’ve been through, that I could do that to you?”

“I didn’t." She conceded, worrying her lip between her teeth, wondering if she could back her way out of this conversation now that it had started. But he was waiting expectantly for more. "I used to think that the worst thing that could happen was our friendship would end - that was already plenty to stop me from pursuing it.” She sank back against the arm of the couch, raking her fingers through her hair. “But then after things ended with Jonah, things with us were so hot and heavy. I saw you almost every day, I woke up next to you more mornings than not, hell, we spent Valentines Day curled up on your couch with a meal you made me from scratch. It almost felt like…” Her eyes met his, the weight of her unspoken words sucking the air out of the room. There was no arguing that point; it hadn’t just felt like they were together - they were together. He just never had the chance to call it what it was.

“Riley…” He didn't have the words. He was the man of a million words but somehow, with her, they always seemed to allude him.

“But I guess that must have all been in my head, cause you had no trouble taking home that girl that worked the merch stand at your shows.” She clung desperately to the thread of dignity that kept her voice from breaking, blinking away the sting behind her eyes. He floated toward her but she held up a hand that stopped him in his tracks.

“It wasn’t like that, Ry, I swear to god.” He insisted but she was just waving him off.

“Please, Max, her tits were on full display in your kitchen.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him anymore, embarrassed heat creeping up her neck, and it was making his stomach twist. It was hard to argue with that, even if he knew it wasn’t the reality of the situation. But even if his sex with Valerie, the exceptionally hot new merch girl at MLW, wasn’t real, the look on Riley’s face when she walked into his apartment with a bottle of his favorite whiskey, only to find a topless Valerie sitting on his kitchen counter was very very real. “It’s fine, that’s how we had always operated; I was stupid for thinking anything had changed.”

That devastated look when she saw them only lasted for a second but it was plenty to haunt his dreams for years. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that made her look like that and he didn’t even know how it happened. Valerie just lived nearby and wanted to walk back with him and he didn’t stop to think when she asked to see his replica belt collection. And yeah, maybe he’d flirted a little because he didn’t know how not to, but not so much that it warranted her taking her top off while he went to find the belt she asked to see.

But she was nothing; she was less than nothing. She was so insignificant in his story with Riley, she didn't deserve to mentioned. She didn't get to be the thing that stood between them getting together.

“It wasn’t in your head.” He finally conceded, minutes too late, trying to forcibly shift them back to what really mattered. Her eyes pleaded with him to stop. She didn’t need to complicate her feelings here, they were already jumbled enough as it was. But Max wasn't finished - he had come this far. “Everyone in the locker room referred to you as my girlfriend. My dad referred to you as my girlfriend. The fucking mailman referred to you as my girlfriend. It wasn’t in your head.” Hearing it out loud had her heart clawing it’s way out of her chest; this was too much. She didn’t realize just how badly she’d wanted to hear him call her that until he’d gotten this close.

“But I wasn’t your girlfriend, Max. So you were fully within your right to invite naked girls back to your place.” She maintained her position, knowing if she let herself falter, there would be no stopping her from crying in front of him and there was nothing in this world that she wanted less than to cry right now.

“I am telling you, nothing happened!” He gestured a desperate hand out at her. “It was a complete misunderstanding. I know that sounds like bullshit but I swear to fucking god I wasn’t responsible for the tits in the kitchen.” She rolled her eyes with a lofty breath.

“It doesn’t even matter.” She kicked off the arm of the couch, restless. “It really wasn’t about her. Like I said, even if you had, it’s really not my place to get mad about it.”

“But I’m telling you it was your place. You should have torn a hole clean through me.”

If it hadn’t been for that millisecond of devastation on her face, he might not have even known she was upset by it. She just apologized for walking in without knocking, as if him giving her a key wasn't an open invitation to do so, and excused herself to the bathroom. When he got back from escorting Valerie out of his apartment building, she was on his couch and refused to talk about it. But he knew. He didn’t have to be told that she had been crying in the bathroom while he was gone. Even if her face didn’t show it, she was stilted the whole night and eventually went home to sleep in her own bed. It wasn’t more than a few weeks before she had her first date with Lucas.

“I didn’t want to tear a hole through you. I was mad at myself, not at you. All you did was remind me that there was more at stake than just our friendship.” So she hid out in the arms of another cheating bastard. And she got humiliated on a national stage. And she lost the show she had poured her soul into. But all of that pain was manageable; the pain of having her heart broken by Max, though, that would have swallowed her whole. She needed to get out of here. His jaw ticked with irritation as she began floating toward the sparse kitchen space of the suite, searching for her shoes, but he dutifully followed after her.

"And so, what? You just gave up on the entire idea of us because of a misunderstanding that you refused to let me clear up?" It came out a little indignant and his face twitched in a strain to control his temper. She slowed, head lolling back to see him.

"Because it didn't matter." She wandered into the tiny galley kitchen and turned around, only to find herself blocked in by Max. Her pulse picked up.

"Stop saying that, it obviously did matter." He stood at the entrance to the kitchen, allowing her a few feet between them.

"No, it didn't! We kept on doing what we always did. Same old cycle, wash and repeat."

"Except that you cut me out of your life six months later!" He shot back, inadvertently taking a step into the kitchen. "Is that why? Still just punishing me for some stupid mistake?"

"No, I cut you out of my life because you got into a fist fight with my boyfriend at my mom's Holiday Party and announced to the entire room that I had cheated on Jonah with you. Huge surprise that Lucas told me I needed to make a decision."

"And so you just decided for the both of us, then? Years of friendship down the drain because your cheating, piece of shit boyfriend was worried you'd beat him to the punch?" He was past the point of feeling sheepish - none of that mattered in comparison. Another couple steps toward her and she was beginning to feel the heat of his body. He was getting harder to block out.

"What was I supposed to do, Max?" She demanded, plastering herself against the counter on the far side of the kitchen, buying as much space as she could get.

"You were supposed to choose me!" He practically shouted, hands clenching in an attempt to resist shaking her. "You were supposed to stop being a coward and be with me!" She swallowed hard, the smell of him mixed with the aftermath of their evening was seeping into her brain. She shook her head, brow furrowed.

"Yeah, and what about you, huh? When were you supposed to stop being a coward?" She spit back and he glared at her. "It's not like you ever manned up and said something! You only ever hammered on about how you 'never wanted to be tied down'." Her impression of him was tempered by the edge of emotion that was seeping into her voice. "How was I supposed to choose you when you never even hinted at wanting anything more with me? You could have said something at literally any time in last decade and I would have dropped everything in my life to be with you. But you didn't. Not once." Fire burned beneath his fingertips, grinding his teeth hard enough to chip them.

"Fine, you want me to say something?" He finally snapped, crowding into her space, hand on the cabinets behind her head. She could feel her heartbeat in her throat, eyes deadlocked with his. Reaching up with his free hand, he tangled his fist in the back of her hair, and her head tipped back in a breathless gasp. "You've been my girl since day one and nothing is ever gonna change that.” He was close enough to feel her warm breath fanning across his face. Her fingers curled around the edge of the counters. “I didn't need to say it, Riley. Its just a given - you’re mine. I know it, you know, every guy you've ever been with knows it.” He sandwiched her against the counter, their legs slotting together just right, and her skin buzzed head to toe. “So you can walk away as many times as you want. Cause our roots are tangled up tight, sweetheart; you are always gonna find your way right back here." Her breath came out in shallow gasps for air, and his lips curled into a smug smirk. Using his grip on her hair, he tilted her head, nosing along the curve of her neck until his lips brushed her earlobe. "Your body is screaming it, practically vibrating over finally being back where it belongs." Her eyes fluttered closed; her brain was going a hundred and fifty down an empty highway, wind rattling the sides so hard she couldn't hear a cohesive thought. His lips ghosted across her neck, raising goosebumps all down her spine.

"Max..." She whimpered, and he strained against the soft material of his sweats. He needed that sound more than he needed oxygen.

Loosening his grip on her hair, his hand slipped down until settling firmly along her jaw. Fingers dug into her skin, he nipped at the delicate skin of her neck, and her breathing hitched.

"I'm done sharing you, Riley." His thumb slid down her jaw, across the column of her neck, ripples of electricity spilling out beneath it. He adjusted his fingers with a trial squeeze around her throat, coming face to face with her. Her eyes blinked open, wide and hazy, dragging her teeth across her bottom lip. "Now, are you my girl or not?”

Riley’s tongue dabbed over her trembling lip and she swallowed hard. There were a million reasons racing through her head that all told her to say no but she was already nodding.

“Yeah?” His brow quirked, fingers thrumming against her throat. She nodded more firmly. Slowly, he leaned into her, guiding her up to him. Their breaths mingled and her eyes drifted shut. He nudged his nose along hers and she stood on her toes, her lips aching for his, but he pulled back. “Let me hear it.” Eyes flying open, she hesitated, but Max’s fingers constricted around her throat and the whine that slipped out was damning.

“I’m your girl.” She finally conceded. It was just above a whisper but Max scarcely let her finish anyway.

“I fuckin’ know it.”

In an instant, his hands flew down to desperately grip her face, crushing his lips into hers so hard it knocked the breath from her lungs. And just like that, she was tripping headfirst into his quicksand.

Their mouths collided in a furious gnashing of tongues and teeth and deep seated need. Her nails dragged across his lower back and he groaned into her mouth. They were messy and frantic, his hands roaming into her hair and down her collarbone, slipping beneath the splayed fabric of her shirt, hungry for every inch of skin they had been deprived of for so long. His fingers wandered to her bare thigh, electricity blooming in a line beneath his touch. He shivered, hand stuttering when she smoothed her palm up his chest, roping it around his neck.

His lips made a messy trail to her chin, then up along the line of her jaw. Calloused fingers curled around her thigh, guiding it up around his hip, and he yanked her hips flush against him. She let out an airy sigh as he laid open mouth kisses along her neck, making him throb beneath his sweatpants.

"Feel good to be back where you belong, sweetheart?" He nipped at her earlobe, rocking his hips in smooth thrusts against her core, completely exposed to him. She whimpered, body doused in gasoline and ready to ignite at a moment's notice. His fingers tightened in her hair, tugging it back, and laving his tongue over the curve of her neck before sucking at the sensitive skin.

His other hand crept up her thigh, curled around from the outside but edging up closer and closer to the apex. As he reached the top, he let his nails drag back down her thigh, and he hummed against her skin.

She urged a hurried hand just inside his hip, pawing at the top of his sweats in an attempt to push them down. Max snatched her hand, pinning it to the cabinet above her head. Her eyes shot open, wildly flitting across his face, watching helplessly as he captured her other hand, holding them both high above her head with one hand, her shirt riding up over her hips. She tugged at his grip to no avail and a thrill ran through her veins.

Grinding her hips against his stiff cock, she whined, the friction just a delicious tease. Max chuckled, low and breathy, into the crook of her neck.

“Awww, what's wrong, pretty girl?” His hand skated down, over her chest and stomach, curling his fingers around the bottom of the shirt. Knuckles dragged along the electrified skin of her hip and she squirmed. “You need something?" Her brain was too hazy for a coherent response, though, scarcely even registering his fingers nimbly undoing the bottom button. He dragged his teeth along her skin before his tongue soothed over it. She whined his name, knees suddenly feeling a little insufficient as she tried to grind against him but he pinned her hips to the counter with his own. “Use your words, Riley." But she couldn’t focus with the way his knuckles were dragging against her lower belly. He undid another button and she shook.

As quickly as his hand disappeared from her stomach, it reappeared, harshly squeezing her bare ass before delivering a sharp smack. Heat seared through her, a sharp contrast to his gentle touch, rising up her torso.

"Pleeease..." Her voice was raked over, barely recognizable under the strain of her need.

"Please what?" He delivered another, lighter smack to her ass, fingers just grazing over her center. Enough to make her entire body tremble and get his fingers dewy with her slick. Twitching beneath his sweats, his lips curled into a smug smile. He raised two fingers between them, sliding them past his lips, eyes closing as he savored the taste of her arousal. Riley's lips parted in a ragged breath, pupils blown, and his eyes snapped back to her, smirking before pressing the fingers to her lips. She obliged, letting them sink into her mouth, the taste of her still faint, and Max's other hand tightened around her wrists, trying to keep his composure. "Look at you." He worked his fingers in and out of her mouth a couple of times. "All worked up and I've barely even touched you."

An embarrassment flashed through her body and she squirmed as if it would change the truth. But when his fingers withdrew from her mouth, she had to swallow back her whine - she was already in the deep end.

His fingers, wet with their mixed saliva, trailed down her chin, over her throat, and down the center of her chest. Just barely grazing the soft skin of her breasts before landing on the top button. She couldn’t stop herself from pushing her chest out. His eyes flicked back up to meet hers, lips curling devilishly as he undid the button without looking, fingers skimming right down to the final button still fastened. Wasting no time, he popped the final obstacle and let his thumb drag torturously down over her exposed stomach. He pushed past the draped fabric, clamping around her waist with both hands, inadvertently releasing her arms. His face nestled into the crook of her neck, breathing her in, trying to commit every detail of this to memory before real life caught up to them. If he could stop time, he would have spent an eternity in that moment, her fingers curling in his hair to keep him close, their bare chests pressed against each other, heat between them threatening to burn down the entire city block.

"Fuck, I've missed you so much." The words were a rasp against her skin that he couldn't control for the third time that night. He was practically throbbing, brain just a fog of needy thoughts, his ability to keep his composure was hanging by a thread.

He gave no warning before he lifted her up onto the countertop, his lips not skipping a beat as they trailed down to the hollow of her throat. His hands slid up her figure, keeping her tight to him as he sucked dark, possessive marks into her skin. Her head tipped back, steadying herself on the countertop with one hand while the other gripped tight in his hair, as if it would lend her any real control. He left a trail of hickies in a line along her clavicle and her legs curled around his waist when he nudged the shirt over her shoulder, leaving it gaping wide. His eyes raked sinfully over every inch of her on display for him now, fingers tweaking her peaked nipple, and her breath caught in her throat.

"So damn perfect." His palm kneaded over her breast, greedy and rough, squeezing hard enough it might bruise all on its own. Free hand stabilizing on her upper thigh, he pinched her nipple between his fingers as his mouth made its way down to her chest. “And all fuckin’ mine.” He accentuated his point by leaving a particularly dark mark on her chest. He would’ve laid his claim over every last inch if he had to. “Should carve my name into your skin so everyone knows exactly who you belong to.” But god, his tongue was doing that plenty well on its own, tracing his initials over the mark he’d just made.

She sank back onto her elbow, shirt slipping off the other shoulder and giving him the full access he needed. He didn't hesitate, leaning into her and grazing his teeth over her nipple, delighting in the sharp breath of air she took in. His tongue flicked over the bud and her eyes fluttered shut, teeth raking over her lip. When he blew a cool breath across the slick, sensitive skin, her entire body bowed into him, clung around his neck.

"Fuck me, Max, pleeease." Her voice didn't feel like her own, strained and desperate.

Legs wrapped around him, she fumbled to push his sweats down with her feet. She needed more, faster, worrying her body would be reduced to ash before she got to feel him again. And even if his brain had been whirring fast enough to form a rational thought, he wouldn't have been able to resist. His entire body was electrified now and there was no slowing down. She managed to get his sweats down just enough to free his erection and there was no way to stop him to from immediately delving between her folds. Her breath escaped in a puff as he ground the tip of his cock over her clit.

"Does this pretty little pussy need some attention?" He yanked her hips so hard toward him that they practically came off the counter. One hand held her hips in place as the other skated up into her hair. "Been neglected for so long." Dragging his cock through her folds again, he could feel the precum dripping from his tip, mixing with her slick, and his eyes rolled back for just a moment. Pulling her to him by the hair, he met her in a needy kiss, frantic and overdue, as he notched his crown against her entrance. "Don't worry, baby, i'm gonna take care of you. Remind you what its like to come until you cry."

And with that, he speared through her center, to the hilt - he couldn't handle anything less than being completely buried inside her right now. She screeched, nails digging into his scalp as he made strong, purposeful thrusts up into her. Every inch of her stretched to accommodate him, squeezing a chokehold around his dick. He bit hard on her bottom lip, dragging it back as he hammered into her, her body lifting on and off of the counter with their frenzied pace.

"Ohhh fuck! Max!" She cried out, hands roaming aimlessly, pleasure blanking out her mind. If she had reservations about being with him, they were long gone, replaced by a rampaging snowball of need that was quickly filling her past her breaking point.

"You feel so fucking good, squeezing this cock like it was made for you." He growled against her jaw, fingers wrapped deep into her hair. He had meant to take this so much slower - to savor her - but fuck if his patience was that strong.

He hooked her leg up over his arm, burying both hands in her hair, keeping her spread wide for him, and forehead to forehead. Groaning, his fingers twitched as she constricted around him, trying desperately to hold it together. Her body slipping down, lower back against the counter as he rocked up into the perfect spot inside her over and over.

"My pretty little slut gonna come for me already? Missed my cock so much you couldn't even take thirty seconds before falling apart?" He watched her struggle to hold his eye contact, breathy moans following one after the other. She was too far gone to feel the shame that was percolating in her cheeks, though, just holding on for dear life as her entire body bloomed open. "Good girl, fucking milk this cock, baby." He just prayed desperately he could withstand it, his thumb reaching over to rub rough circles over her clit and she screamed, arching up and toes curling. But he didn't stop to let her breath, her screams devolving to whines.

Her back slammed, deliciously painful, against the edge of the counter each time he drove into her, and her skin was buzzing from top to bottom. She felt his hand, frantically roaming to her face, hair, stuck with sweat, getting raked between them as he gripped her jaw. He pulled her in for a messy, possessive kiss, free hand slapping her tit, fingers grazing her nipple and making her cry out. Her hand flew up to grab the cabinets to steady herself, her body trying to match his movements, careening out of control.

"Who else knows your body like this? Who else fucks you this good?" He demanded, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust. She was teetering dangerously close to the edge, his words, snarled against her ear making every inch of her skin burn. "Tell me who this beautiful body belongs to." But her orgasm was closing in quick and halting all coherent thought, color dotting her vision. His palm collided full power with her ass and the red hot sting reverberated through her veins, kicking the ground out from under her. "I said who owns this body?"

"You, you do! Fuck, Max, please!" She desperately rutted against him, chasing the finish line that was tantalizingly close if she could just wade through the foggy flashing lights.

"God damn fuckin' right I do." His voice was dangerously low, growled into the skin of her throat. Any plans for taking things slow were pummeled through, his body running on full instinct now. "Now let me feel you soak this cock."

Yanking her up more solidly onto the counter, he pushed her flat onto her back, legs spread clear apart as he rocked up into her core. Pushing down on her hips, he strummed three fingers across her clit as rapidly as he could move them, his hips falling into rhythm. Her hands desperately raked across the counters, blindly searching for a hold to keep her from floating straight out of her body. He didn't relent and her body jerked, a seismic tremble stretching over her legs. Pulling out to the tip, he slammed back in, bottoming out as he pinched her clit and she unraveled, squirting over his fingers with a scream they must have heard down in the lobby, and her back rose off the counters like she'd been electrified.

His arm wound tight around her back, plastering her to him as he bounced her up and down on his dick, his balls tightening as her walls pulsed around him, overstimulated but begging for more. Her body twitched as she stumbled through aftershocks and she clung to him for all she was worth, mouth hung open in a series of silent screams. It didn't take more than a few jerky thrusts before his hips stuttered, burying himself as deep as he could go. He spilled his warmth into her with a roar, sinking his teeth hard into her neck.

They writhed and jerked, bodies pressed tight as they could get, trying to ride out every last second. Slowing, he peppered kisses over her skin, helping her settle back down on the countertop. His hands slid up into her hair, pulling her in for a languorous kiss, getting lost in her haze, unwilling to budge from his spot deep inside her.

"That's my fuckin' girl." He cooed, hands skating down to her hips, and she melted into him, every ounce of energy fully spent, her arms draped lazily around his shoulders. "God, I've fucking missed you, Ry."

And as the fog of her orgasm ebbed, reality settled in, harsh as ever, with a million unanswered questions. The pull of the crook of his neck was too much to resist, though, so she buried her face instead of addressing any of the nagging thoughts that swirled in her head. But they couldn't stay like that forever, and when he finally pulled back, he could see the uncertainty clouding her expression. That wasn't exactly what he was hoping for.

"Max..." She breathed out his name with a tiny disbelieving shake of her head, and he straightened his spine. "What are we doing?" He wet his lips, mulling over the options in his head before he swept forward and picked her up. She yelped but he didn't stop on his path out of the kitchen and she didn't have the energy to fight him.

"We're going to bed." He bounced her down onto the mattress and crawled after her.

"But -"

"No." He cut her off, yanking the blankets out from under them. She skittered up to the top of the bed, bones suddenly feeling much heavier. Max maneuvered up her body, pressing her down into the mattress, pulling the blanket up over them. Meeting his eyes, she went to protest but he pressed his lips to hers in a silencing kiss. "It's been a long ass day and I've got to get up in less than four hours for another day of talking to sweaty nerds." She bit the inside of her lips, cutting off the rest of her protests. "And I fully intend to wake you up in the middle of the night with my tongue on your clit so let's get some sleep and maybe in the morning you'll feel less like arguing." Her lips curled into a reluctant smile before she scrunched her nose.

"Not likely."

Max snorted a laugh before rolling off of her. He roped her in with an arm and she curled against him the way she always had. Maybe sleep was exactly what she needed to make sense of this night. And this bed was so comfortable. And Max was so warm...

___

Sunlight peaked through the edge of the hotel blinds, right across Riley's eyes and she stretched, quickly finding she didn’t have the space, strong arms wrapped tight around her middle. Memories of last night flashed across her mind, a lazy smile stretching across her face. Max's lips dusted over the curve of her shoulder and a flittering of electricity rolled through her skin.

"Good morning, beautiful." He whispered into the crook of her neck and she settled back into him as heavily as she could. She was going to enjoy every second of this until reality came calling. God, she had missed waking up next to him.

"Mmm morning." Rolling onto her back, she met his hazy eyes, still heavy from sleep but soft and mildly incredulous. He had half expected to wake up and find out this had been a horribly detailed and unfair dream. But here she still was, hair mussed and dreamy smile directed right up at him. "Can we just blow off real life and stay here?" She knew they needed a more serious conversation about things they admitted in the heat of the moment last night but, she was pretty sure, as long as they stayed in this bed, nothing else mattered.

"Ugh, you read my mind." He leaned over her, fingers sliding up into her hair as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to her lips that left them tingling in his wake. "Unfortunately, I am contractually obligated to be at this convention in..." His gaze flicked over to the alarm clock on the bedside table and he groaned. "...45 minutes. Fuck, I really need to get up and get in the shower."

Riley stretched her legs out under the covers, nestling down into the mattress.

"Oh, that's sad for you. Have fun with that, I'll be right here." She closed her eyes pointedly, missing the scowl the Max leveled at her. But there was no missing his fingers tazing her sides, making her jump. "Ah! Hey!" She objected but he rolled on top of her, pressing her into the mattress before tickling up her waist. Squirming and squealing beneath him, she begged him to stop between laughs. "Please, please, I surrender, please!" He didn't let up, though, just creeping up then down until finally settling on her hips.

"Let me try that again." He said, his bare body pressing deliciously into hers. "Come get in the shower with me, brat." She bat her lashes with a coy smile.

"Now, see, my flight doesn't come for a few more hours so I don't see why I -." She stopped short when his fingers grazed back over her sides. "No, please!" She giggled, squirming under him and he grinned down at her.

"I can't shower alone knowing my duet partner is laying right over here." He licked his lips, tracing feather-light over her skin until goosebumps raised all down her spine. Tilting her head from side to side, she scrunched her nose.

"I don't know, I saw that musical number you did with Chris Jericho. Pretty sure I've been replaced. Maybe I should go get him for you?" She teased, tongue peaking out, trapped between her teeth, and he breathed a laugh.

"Oh so you've been watching me for a while, then, huh? Didn't realize you were basically a groupie now."

"Only if you count as my groupie, too. Don't think I didn't pick up on you knowing exactly what happened in the episode where we fly to Gorkula. Are you a SpaceHead, Max?" She ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to keep back a grin, and Max gaped at her, brows knitting together.

"I don't appreciate being called a slur, Riley. Incredibly disrespectful that you would lump me in with the rest of your soap-phobic fan base." He dug his fingers into her and she squirmed with a breathless laugh. "Now get this pretty little ass in the shower before I hoist you over my shoulder and haul you in there myself."

She bit down on her lip, gearing up to tease him but stopped short at the sound of the doorknob jiggling. She tried to push herself up to sit but was stuck. When the door swung open, she smacked blindly at Max's back and he hurried to roll off of her.

"Surprise!" A petite girl, wrapped in a stylish but tight office dress, burst through the opened door and Riley snatched the blanket up to her chest, looking to Max, who had jumped to his feet.

"K-Kelsey?" He stammered, his skin suddenly excruciatingly hot, desperately clambering for a sheet to cover himself. "What are you doing here?"

Watching helplessly as Kelsey took in the scene before her, steam quickly beginning to billow out her ears, Max took a nervous step back. And understanding washed through Riley crystal clear, salt water flooding her veins, poisoned and sluggish, cementing her to her spot. She glanced back at 'Kelsey', shell shocked, and watched as she launched her purse directly at Max's head.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" She demanded, storming toward him, and Riley sat numbly as the woman smacked his chest. "I can't believe you!"

"Baby, please.." He held his hands up in front of him in defense but Kelsey kept swinging.

Riley jolted from her spot, taking the blanket with her as she backed up. She couldn't feel her skin anymore, a monstrous pit of nausea roiling in her gut. Baby. She was going to be sick.

"How could you do this to me? I came out here to surprise you after how shitty you said your day was yesterday and this..." Kelsey glanced back in Riley's direction and gave her a good look at the potent mix of anger and heartbreak on her face for just a second before she whirled back on Max. "You're unbelievable."

Max's gaze finally drifted back to Riley and she never wanted to disappear so badly in her life. She tore away from his gaze forcefully, skittering toward her dress that was laying on the floor by the door. Slipping away before his eyes.

"Kels, I'm sorry, I never meant-" He tried to defend but she stomped her heel hard into his foot. Riley shimmied into her dress on the other side of the room, fighting against the way her hands shook. "Fuck, can everybody just -" Holding his hands out as if he could still control this situation, Kelsey swatted them away.

"I'm going to go home, put your shit out on the curb, and change the lock. Go fuck yourself, Max." She snatched her purse off the floor by him before turning on her heel. Slowing to a stop when she caught sight of Riley by the door, she shook her head. "You can fucking keep him."

The door rattled shut behind her and plunged the room into a nuclear silence. Riley's eyes pinned to Max and the sting behind them finally made itself known, her chest aching so bad she thought it might cave in. She sucked in a breath, frozen to the ground.

"Riley, I can explain."

"Don't." She begged. "Please."

Sweeping up her purse from the couch, she backed toward the door and Max finally started after her.

"Please, stop, I know how this looks..."

"It looks like you have a live-in girlfriend, Max." She whirled on him with a devastated expression that she had tried so valiantly to control.

"Well...had, from the sounds of it." He mumbled but she glared daggers through him. Holding up his hands in a peace offering, he tried to get a step closer to her. "I'm sorry, I know. Fuck, I'm sorry."

"This was a mistake. I need to go." She tried to turn back toward the door but Max caught her hand. The shock it sent through her body knocked her off balance.

"Please don't go, Ry." He reeled her closer by the hand but she snatched it away from him. Darting around her, he stepped into her path toward the door. She tried to side step him but he kept in her way. "Please, I can't go back to life without you. I meant everything I said last night!" He pleaded and she sat back on her heel, stunned, the boiling guilt in her stomach turning over into simmering anger.

"Yeah, you meant it when you said you couldn't see yourself settling down with anyone but me?" Her entire body was trembling and she had stunned him into silence. "Looks like I was just never worth making the effort for. I mean, after all, I'm just a given, right." Her voice was cold as she tried to shoulder past him but he blocked her.

"C'mon, you're twisting my words!" He begged. "You know that's not what I meant. I am crazy about you, Riley, please, this doesn't change anything for me."

“It changes things for me.” She spat and he swayed back like she’d hit him. His pulse was threatening to spike him into the carpet. How had everything gone so wrong? “We make each other worse, Max. And I can’t do it anymore.” Finally managing to get past him, she made a break for the door.

Breezing through, she let it slam behind her, taking off as quickly as possible down the hallway, shoes be damned, she couldn't force herself to care. She picked up her pace at the sound of his door opening behind her, hustling toward the elevator. Maybe she was running away but she couldn't take any more, she needed to fly as many miles away from him as she could get and let her heart break in private.

"Riley!" He shouted after her, having slung his sweats on so quickly he nearly face planted. He couldn't let her get away, not this time, not when he knew he might never see her again if he let her slip away now. But she was jamming on the elevator button as if it would make it come faster, nervously glancing back. "Stop, Riley, come on!"

He didn’t take long to catch up to her, blocking the still-closed doors of the elevator with his body.

“Get out of the way.” She demanded, a hand on her hip.

“No. You can’t go like this. Not after last night.” His eyes pleaded with her, arms spread wide to barricade her path. Her gaze on him lingered but broke the second the elevator dinged above his head.

“Last night wasn’t real, Max.” She replied plainly as if it wasn’t another dagger through her chest. His shoulders slumped but he still didn’t move out of the open door. “Move.”

“Last night was as real as it gets, Riley, and you know it.” He insisted but she shook her head, eyes narrowed. “It was the most real night we’ve ever had.” The elevator doors attempted to close but he held them open forcefully.

“Well isn’t that sad for us?” She frowned, eyes drawn and dark, and Max’s arm fell. The sting behind her eyes was starting to eat away at her; she needed to get some distance now. She used the opportunity to slip past him, into the elevator.

“Riley, I need you…” He pleaded, but she clung to the back wall, just like she had the night before - she needed it now more than ever. Look at what a mess she made when she let herself off that tether.

“And I loved you." She confessed, sending his heart through his chest. " But I never want to see you again."

Max stumbled back a step, stricken, his eyes crawling over her, wide and desperate. The elevator slid closed between them and left them each in a suffocating silence, swallowing up all the oxygen around them.

Riley finally slumped down to the floor of the elevator, face falling in her hands. Her chest ached in a new and unbearable way that made her whole body shake. The pain radiated down to her toes, engulfing her.

Last night played on a loop in her mind. She was his, all his, every inch - that was what he said right? Her fingers traced delicately over the bruised skin he had left behind. All his. But never hers.

Her head fell back against the hard wall of the elevator, drawing in a shaky breath. Some palate cleanser, she thought bitterly. Eyes drifting shut, she wondered if every relationship she had ever been in hadn’t just been cleansing her palate of him.

But she wasn’t sure there was anything that could ever wipe this taste from her mouth. She had just decimated her palate all at once. Maybe that was for the best.

—-

Part Two

Prequel if you please

[dirtywrestling]

Hey! Just had a really bad date. Can I please request with mjf where he's really gentle and soft with an inexperienced female reader? Thanks 🩷

Pairing: MJF x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Blog, Minors DNI, Inexperience!Female!Reader, Smut

Commission Requests: Open!

Imagine Requests: Open!

Follow My Side Blog!: @dirtywresling102

*Sorry you had a shit date and I am so sorry for getting this imagine out late! I hope you have a better time on your next date!*

MJF shushed you softly as he was on top of you, making sure to have his body weight on his wrists as he hovered over you so he wouldn't crush you. "You're doing so well for me." MJF praised as his cock was slowly inching inside of your tight walls. "Doing so well, princess." MJF's voice was soft as he leaned down and peppered kisses all over your neck.

Your gritted your teeth tightly forcing back the tears as MJF's large cock slowly slid inside your cunt. Your nails raked and scratched down his back, pulling him close to you as you sobbed quietly. "Fuck- you're so big."

A light blush appeared upon MJF's cheeks along with a growing grin. "I know princess, but you feel so fucking good wrapped around me. So wet." His hot breath fan over your face as he slowly started to rock his hips, getting your pussy more slick than it was before. "There she is, welcoming this large fucking cock." MJF moaned with each slow pump.

[daddyhausen]

MJF as a young dad please 🥺

• young dad headcannons — mjf •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ masterlist } | { aew masterlist } | { mjf masterlist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ warnings } — none

{ word count } — 375

{ pairing } — fem!reader x mjf

{ genre } — fluff / angst

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ taglist } — @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @baybay-boom @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @eddie-kingstons-wifey @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

it came as no surprise to you when max walked out the moment you announced your pregnancy 

he was in the prime of his career, his life at that 

you understood completely that he was not ready to be a father

still it could not help the inconsolable nights spent alone

crying yourself to sleep

cradling your ever growing baby bump in the spot where max once slept beside you

he was completely avoidant during the remainder of your pregnancy 

not so much as a text or a phone call to check up on you

it was terrifying going into labour alone 

having to rely on your neighbor of all people to drive you to the hospital when the time came 

she’d really become a rock for you especially in the later half of your pregnancy 

at least she was there when you delivered

although you silently max was the one in there with you 

you returned home a healthy baby girl bundled up close to your chest 

returning to the silence of an empty house 

your daughter looked exactly like max

from the tufts of dark curls to the warm flecks of brown and hazel in her eyes 

it made you miss him dearly 

a week or so after you gave birth, max decided to make himself known in your life once more

he showed up at your door in tears 

pleading to at least see his child 

despite the fact that he had absolutely no right to 

you allowed it.

from the moment he held your daughter in his arms he broke down in tears

apologising profusely for not being there for her and for you

promising to be a better man now when you needed him most 

your acceptance was reluctant, but your daughter at least deserves her father in her life

to you surprise, max turned out to be quite the father 

he puts your daughter on a pedestal, treats her like a queen 

he takes her everywhere with him

he’ll tuck her into bed, sing her sweet lullabies until she falls asleep 

he felt like such an asshole for leaving you all those months ago

for nothing more that his own selfish needs

but now, he’s not going anywhere 

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Could you please do a hc of any of the wrestlers you write for reacting to their so telling them they are Pregnant please?

AEW Wrestlers Pregnancy Headcanons

Aew wrestlers reacting to you telling them you are pregnant with there child

Wrestlers Mentioned: Billy Gunn, Cash Wheeler, CM Punk, David Finlay, MJF

Main Masterlist Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Billy Gunn

When you told Billy you were pregnant he was shocked

He coudn't believe that he would be a father again when his two sons were in there late 20s-early 30s

He was scared but exited

Sure it was a suprise but what was he expecting

Sure he was older but having a younger girlfriend with high fertility could allow for something like this to happen

When he told his sons the news they didn't know what to think, they could have children themselves, how would you feel if your sibling had a 30 year age gap.

During your pregnancy Billy would spoil you, protecting you from the media, not wanting the negitive publicity cause stress to you and your baby

Billy promised he would be there for every ounce of your pregnancy and he was a saint

Cash Wheeler

When Cash found out you were pregnant he was beyond exited

He coudn't wait to share the news with his best friend Dax

Cash spent years looking up to the relationship with Dax and his wife, he always wanted to have children of his own

Being a first time dad Cash wanted to make sure everything was perfect, he read every book, he took an online course, he wanted to be the perfect dad

Cash would spoil your uborn child, he would bring home souvenears from every city he visited

He insisted on building everything himself, he built a beautful nursery

Cash would be the best father, he would love your child so much

The two of them would grow up to be best friends

CM PUNK

For some reason I feel like CM Punk would either be so supportive or would leave, no in between

CM Punk is the type to have a controversaly young girlfriend who he would eventualy leave for a younger girl (Don't get me wrong I love Punk I'm feeling this vibe rn)

The reason why CM Punk doesn't have kids at 45 isn't because of the multiple unstable relationships he has had. It's because he is scared of the idea of having kids, scared of the responsibility

When you told Punk you were pregnant he said nothing, he just held you as you cried.

You were scared and he was terrfied

He knew he would be a bad dad, he didn't want the responsibility of taking care of a human life

One day you woke up and he wasn't next to you

You looked around your shared appartment to see all of his things gone, the only think left was a note that read "I'm sorry" that was placed next to a waud of cash.

David Finlay

After being friends with bennfits with David Finlay you would fall pregnant

It was a shock, you had no idea how David would react

When you told David he was just as shocked as you were

It took him a while to even form words but when he did they were nothing but words of support

He wanted to support you, he was onboard with whatever you wanted to do, after all it was your body

He was exatic when he found out you wanted to keep your baby

He coudn't wait to be a dad

Some of the other members of Bullet Club teased him for it but he didn't care

David Finlay was made to be a father, he is such a daddy

He would protect you and your son, he would do ANYTHING to keep you safe, even ......murder

Maxwell Jacob Friedman

When you told Max you were pregnat he almost fainted

Sure he wanted kids but not now

The first thing he thought of was leaving, it was a coward move but he was scared

He booked a weekend trip claiming it was for work and left for a few days to compose himself

When he returned it was like he was a diffrent man

He became exited, he would buy matching burberry outfits for him and your future child

Max would marry you immediately and promise to be there through it all and he was

Max would spoil your child with expensive things and designer clothing

He would end up being a great father

An: I hope you enjoyed it!

[sydsaint]

A little angsty! Max at 3am for y'all.

Summary: The reader finds herself enamored with Max after hanging out with him and Adam Cole. While hanging out one night, Max reveals a part of himself he rarely lets people see to the reader.

You are sat at a table in one of Adam's favorite restaurants for lunch with your brother. Adam is blabbering on about some new game that he just bought, meanwhile, you're busy texting someone on your phone.

"It's got multiplayer, so you should totally get it so we can play on stream together." Adam continues with his heartfelt speech when he finally notices that you're not paying attention to a word he's saying. "Y/N? Hey, Y/N!"

Adam reaches across the table and pulls your phone out of your hands. Your phone falls to the table with a thud and you glare at your brother.

"What the hell, Adam?" You growl and pick your phone back up.

"Have you even heard a word I've said in the last ten minutes?" Adam replies grumpily. "Who are you texting anyway?" He asks you.

You pick your phone back up and finish the text that you were in the middle of typing out. "I'm talking to Max. Why?" You answer Adam's question.

"Max?" Why in the hell are you texting, Max?" Adam sneers.

"Umm, you're his new tag partner. Why aren't you texting him?" You retort. "Besides, Max and I are kind of becoming friends." You add with a casual shrug.

Adam laughs and reaches across the table for your phone again. You move your hand back and out of his reach and glare at him again. "Come on, Y/N. You're gonna have to give me more than, 'Me and Max are becoming friends.' ." He informs you. "Two months ago you couldn't stand the guy."

"So?" You reply sharply and finally set your phone down. "You didn't like him either, Adam." You remind him.

"Yeah, but I've been forced to do group stuff with him for weeks now. I thought all you guys did was get drinks like once. Now you're head over heels for the guy?"

You roll your eyes at Adam's dramatics. "Am not!" You insist with crossed arms. "Yeah, we had drinks. And we talked while we had our drinks, okay? We just connected I guess. Max. He's not like everyone makes him out to be, alright?"

"Like what? An egomaniac and a narcissist?" Adam snickers.

"He's not a narcissist" You protest. "And you're one to talk about egos, mister Panama City Playboy." You tease Adam with his old nickname.

Adam cringes at the mention of his old mantra and shakes his head. "That was a long time ago. I've changed since then." He reminds you.

"And what? Max is incapable of change?" You continue to come to Friedman's defense.

"Okay, okay." Adam puts his hands up in surrender. "I give up. Just don't go proposing to the guy, N/N." He jokes.

You roll your eyes and pick your phone back up. "Screw off, Adam." You sneer at him. "I was going to split the bill for lunch. But since you want to be rude; you can pay for it."

"Hold on!" Adam protests.

"Too late." You flash a grin and slide the bill toward your brother.

Adam begrudgingly takes the bill and pays for lunch. The two of you part ways for the day since you'll be seeing each other for work tomorrow anyway.

You head home and relax for the night. You are busy playing a game on your computer and thinking about maybe seeing if Adam will let you be on his stream when someone rings your doorbell.

You head to check who's at the door and find Max on your porch. "Oh, hey, Max." You greet him with a smile. "What's up?" You lean against the door.

"Hey. I was in the neighborhood and figured that I'd drop by. You don't mind, do you?" Max explains.

"Not at all." You reply. "Come in." You turn and walk away from the front door.

Max nods and follows you inside, shutting the front door behind him. "Thanks. So, what's up?" He asks as he follows you through the house.

"Not much." You shrug. "I was just playing a game in my office to pass the time. I think Adam is streaming right now, so I was going to maybe hop on and join him."

"You stream too?" Max asks you curiously.

You nod and reach your kitchen where you pull a drink from the fridge. "Mhm. Want one?" You offer Max a drink, which he takes. "I don't have a huge following like Adam does. And I don't do it nearly as often. But it's a hobby."

"Cool. I'm not interrupting, am I?" Max nods.

"Not at all." You insist. "In fact, do you want to be on stream with me? We can hop on and bug Adam. Or we could just hang and do our own thing." You suggest.

You lean against the kitchen counter and wait for Max to give you an answer. "I've never really done anything like this before," Max admits. "I don't want to mess up your stuff."

"Nonsense." You laugh. "It's super easy. And I think that I have a great idea for a stream. All you have to do is look pretty on camera and answer questions." You explain.

"That's all?" Max replies. "How is that?"

You push off the counter and gesture for Max to follow you into your office. At the same time, you send out a quick tweet that you're doing a live Q&A on Twitch.

"Every once in a while I'll play an easy game that doesn't require much attention. Like Pokemon or something. And while I'm playing I let people ask questions on stream with a 1$ donation." You explain as you grab an extra office chair from the corner of the room.

"You make money doing this?" Max sits down in the chair you offer him.

You sit down in your chair and begin setting your camera and other stuff up. "Yes, but also no. People send me money to ask questions. But all of the money I make on stream I double and donate to a random charity." You explain further. "So I'm making money, yeah. But I don't ever end up keeping any of it."

"Wow," Max replies. "That's really cool of you, Y/N." He admits.

"Yeah? Thanks, Max." You grin.

You and Max have a productive stream where you both answer questions for a few hours. You let Max pick the charity getting your money at the end of the stream before you end it.

"Well, that was fun." You turn to Max after your monitor is shut off.

"Yeah, I had fun." Max agrees. "Thanks for letting me hang out with you." He adds.

You nod and pick up your drink from beside you. "Yeah, of course. Anyway, time for some questions of my own." You joke. "How are you feeling about the match with FTR tomorrow?"

Max freezes up a bit at your question and you notice him fidget with his hands for a brief second. "No worries here." He chuckles.

"Really?" You raise a brow at Max. "Are you sure? Because Adam admitted earlier that he's been a little nervous about it all week." You admit.

"Really?" Max replies. "It's because of me, isn't it?" He asks you.

You furrow your brows at Max and shrug. "I don't think so. Adam normally always gets a little nervous before big matches. Being nervous before a big match is a normal thing, Max." You assure him. "Plus if you do end up losing. It's not like it's a big deal right? You're still the world champ."

"Right." Max nods, his eyes cast toward the floor as he mumbles something to himself.

"Max." You clear your throat. "Is there something wrong?" You ask him genuinely.

Max remains silent for a moment, unsure if he should spill his guts like this. Truthfully, he's been having the time of his life hanging out with Adam. Cole seems like a genuine friend now. Something that Max hasn't had in a long time. And then there's you. Ever since that heart-to-heart at the bar Max has felt this unnerving connection to you. Like you're the one person in the world that truly understands him.

"Yeah, I'm nervous about tomorrow, alright?" Max finally admits his doubts and fears. "I'm afraid that if we lose then this will all be over with. Adam won't want to be my friend anymore. Then I won't have an excuse to see you. And I'll go back to being alone. Like I always am."

Your mouth hangs slightly ajar for a moment upon hearing Max's confession. And you find yourself unable to stop a laugh from escaping your mouth. "What?" You laugh.

"Oh, so it's funny is it?!" Max snaps at you. "Yeah go ahead! Ridicule me like everyone else does. Old pathetic loser Maxwell can't keep a friend to save his life!"

You compose yourself with a deep breath and wait for Max to calm himself down. "I'm sorry I laughed." You apologize for your outburst. "I know that keeping friends isn't easy in this business, Max. But I just want you to know that, win or lose tomorrow? I'm still going to be there for you." You assure him. "And so will Adam."

"You will?" Max replies, quieter this time.

"I promise." You move your chair closer to Max's. "Adam is already teasing me that I'm in love with you." You recall your lunch with your brother earlier in the day. "And he only jokes about guys I'm talking to when he likes them. So I think that it's safe to say that we're both here to stay."

A small smile cracks on Max's lips and he matches your gaze. "You're in love with me already?" He jokes.

"I might be a tad overly fond of you, yes." You giggle.

[mrsarcherofinfamy]

DRESS UP

Summary: Hanging out with Tay Conti and you guys start a vlog. And find Sammy on FaceTime with Max (your crush). Sammy than invites Max over to the house to try and get you and Max together....

MJF x Reader (18+, Smut!!!)

_________________________________________

"Hey Y/N. Wanna do a vlog with me today?"

Tay smiles at me shaking her phone. I smile looking at her sitting on her little couch in her room.

"Yes please!"

We start talking about how we met through wrestling and what it's like to travel all the time. Than she starts asking me personal questions.

"SO Y/N who is your favorite male wrestler in AEW right now?"

I make a thinking face trying not to blush because she knows who my favorite guy is. I have the biggest crush on this man.

"Hmmmm that's a good question. I like FTR. Their wrestling style is what I really like. I like Hangman. Anndddd...."

She looks over at me smiling thinking I'm going to say him.

"I also like Darby Allin. That dude is a badass!"

She looks at me with a shocked face. I look over at her with a confused face.

"What? You asked."

"You may have forgotten someone."

I look at her eyes squinting.

"I don't think I did."

She laughs and nudges me with her shoulder. I laugh with her.

"Tay we should get Sammy in on this."

"Good idea Y/N. SAMMY!!"

She yells really loud but we don't hear anything. She looks at me and I shrug my shoulders.

"SAMMY!! SAMMY!!"

I am holding her phone up with her yelling for Sammy.

"He is literally in the living room. How can he not hear me?"

"Maybe he is playing his video games."

"Let's go see."

We both get up. I am following her out of her room and downstairs still recording what is going on. When we get to the bottom of the stairs, we see Sammy on FaceTime with Mjf showing each other their cats. I record Tay's reaction while my face is starting to turn red.

"SAMUEL!"

Tay yells at him making me jump a little. Sammy turns to look back at Tay and I. He turns his phone so Max can see me. I am trying my hardest not to look at his phone slightly seeing Max is shirtless with a tan plaid hat on.

"I have been calling you for 20 minutes! What are you doing?"

"Ummmm our cats are having a playdate."

I giggle still recording everything. Tay crosses her arms looking at Sammy.

"Hey Max. I gotta go. We can do this later."

"Yeah Samuel, you better hang up now."

I see Max hang up and Sammy gets up trying to touch and hug Tay to try and make up for not listening. I turn off the phone and hand it back to Tay.

"Sammy we were making a vlog and wanted you to join but you are over here talking to Y/N's crush."

My jaw drops hearing her say it out loud. Sammy has a shocked look on his face. She looks at me and gasps.

"Oh my gosh! I'm sorry Y/N! I didn't mean to say that out loud to him!"

"YOU LIKE MAX?!"

Sammy yells at me grabbing my shoulders. Tay smacks his stomach.

"Samuel!"

My face turns bright red feeling it start burning from being so embarrassed by everything that just happened. I just want to run upstairs and away from everything. Tay grabs my wrist and pulls me upstairs to her room. Sammy stays downstairs and puts his videos games on. I walk into her room and sit on her bed head in my hands still embarrassed.

"Y/N I am so sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I wasn't trying to be mean or anything. I just thought you also told Sammy when you told me."

"Tay. It's okay. He was going to find out sooner than later."

I giggle a little looking up at her. She smiles at me putting a hand on my shoulder.

"If there is any way I could make it up to you, let me know."

"I have an idea."

I point to her closet and Tay smirks knowing what I mean.

"Well if we are gonna "play dress up", we are doing makeup first."

"Fine! But I dont want a lot!"

She grabs her makeup stuff and starts doing mine first.

_________________________________________

After she is done doing makeup, we walk into her closet to look through her dresses. Good thing we are the same size. Looking through the dress, I come across a black spaghetti strap tight fit mini dress. I pull it off the hanger and hold it up to myself. Tay looks over.

"Oh girl! You should definitely wear that one!"

I smile and lay it over my arm looking through her shoes surprisingly we also wear the same size shoes. I find some yellow plaid boot heels and pick them up. I walk out to her bedroom while she still looks for something to wear. I change into the black dress and put on the heels sitting down at her vanity. I put my hair into cute low pigtails. I am wearing my babygirl necklace I got a long time ago with Tay along with a bunch of rings on my fingers. Tay comes out in a dark blue frilly type dress, black heels, her jewelry and leaves her hair down. She puts on a black heart choker along with her outfit. I stand up and look at her jaw dropped.

"Girllllll you look smokinnnn hot!"

"SO do you!"

"Let's go show Sammy what you look like!"

I grab her hand and walk out of her room. We start to walk down the stairs but we hear Sammy talking to someone so we stop and listen.

"I don't know dude. I may beat you!"

"You may beat me. You may not."

My eyes grow wide looking over at Tay than I run back upstairs. Tay follows me.

"Y/N. What's the problem?"

"Tay that's Max down there."

My heart is almost pounding out of my chest. I look over at Tay.

"Cmon Y/N. Let's go down acting like we don't know he is here and show them what we look like. He might just like what he sees when he sees you."

I look at her and she is being very serious with me. I take a deep breath, look at her cracking a smile holding out my hand. She grabs my hand with a big smile on her face walking out of the room. We walk down the stairs slowly.

"Oh Sammy!! Got a surprise for you!"

Tay still holding my hand walks out from the stairs and I am right behind her. We stand next to the couch looking at them not noticing or listening to us.

"SAMUEL!"

Sammy and Max about jump out of their skin and both look over at us jaws dropping at the same time.

"Dude this happens at your house? I'm coming over more often."

Max smacks Sammy's arm looking at both of us. I am trying really hard not to make eyes contact with him. Sammy stands up, walks over and wraps his arms around Tay's waist pushing her away from me. I step more into the living room so they can have space. I look over towards the stairs seeing Sammy basically dragging Tay upstairs knowing what they are about to go do. I stand there awkwardly waiting for something to happen between me and Max. I kinda look out the corner of my eye to see Max is just playing on his phone. I lightly sigh and walk out to the kitchen to get a drink. I grab a cup than go to the fridge, open it and take the tea out. I walk over and pour a glass not seeing Max come in.

"Gonna pour me a glass too?" He walks over grabbing a cup from the cabinet and sets it next to mine. I blush really hard and pour him a glass not saying anything.

"Cat got your tongue?"

He grabs his glass off the counter standing directly next to me basically breathing on me. I look up at him getting lost in his eyes. He smirks and puts his hand on my cheek getting really close to my face.

"Ya know Y/N... you are terrible at hiding your feelings for me. Other than Sammy telling me how much you talk about me to Tay. But whenever you are around me, you never seem to have the words to speak. Just your face gets so red."

I just keep looking up at him eyes locked, his hand burning against the side of my face. He takes a sip of his drink making me shake my head coming back to reality.

"I....uhhh i..... go...."

I grab my drink and walk out to the living room and sit on the couch very close to the side. Max eventually comes out and sits on the other side. I sip my drink and set it on the side table grabbing my phone. Max keeps looking over at me and shaking his head. We start hearing Tay and Sammy upstairs. I sigh and laugh a little. Max looks over at me.

"You okay?"

"Yeah just this is a normal thing every time we decide to "play dress up" and surprise Sammy. I always get left downstairs."

"Wow. You and Tay play dress up for Sammy?"

"Well yeah. They are the only real friends that I have. Never had any other friends and never had a good real relationship in years. Why I have a hard time with feelings and emotions."

I look over at him and he looks very fixated on me and listening to what I am saying. He slowly starts to move closer to me and places his hand on my back rubbing it a little.

"Y/N if I said anything wrong out in the kitchen, I am sorry. Sammy seriously invited me over because he wants you to be happy."

I move closer to him and place my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around my neck and shoulder and pulls me closer. He looks down and goes to kiss my forehead. I decide to quickly move and kiss him on the lips. He starts kissing me harder placing his hand on my cheek. I start climbing on his lap and my dress starts rolling up exposing my ass a little. He snakes his hands around my body grabbing my ass super hard making me moan into our kiss. I pull back from the kiss looking at him. He smirks looking up at me.

"Wanna take this party to my house? I don't live very far."

I run my fingers through his hair smirking at him.

"I would love that."

He picks me up by my ass and carries me out to his car. He opens the door and sets me inside than runs over and gets in the driver's side.

"This is a really nice car by the way."

I run my hand over the dash as Max drives us to his house.

_________________________________________

We get to his house and he gets out running over to the passenger side. He opens the door and helps me out of the car. We walk up to his house and he leads me inside. I walk into his living room just looking around.

"Wow your living room is gorgeous."

"You should see the rest of the house."

He smirks and grabs my hand leading me to his bedroom. He opens his bedroom door and lets me walk in first. I walk in looking all around his room. I slowly take in how beautiful his room is. He wraps his arms around my waist and puts his head on my neck.

"Do you like it?"

I lay my head against his head smiling.

"Yes I do."

"Y/N I'm not gonna lie to you. Ever."

He starts kissing my neck squeezing his arms around my neck.

"As much as you have a big crush on me, I have one on you."

I gasp sarcastically looking over at him. He rolls his eyes smiling at me.

"I would have never guessed that."

"Oh shut the fuck up."

He pushes me forward with his body and bends me over his bed. I gasp and giggle at him.

"Is that all you got?"

He looks at me shocked and smacks my ass really hard. I moan into his bed feeling the stinging of the smack. He grabs my hair pulling me off the bed.

"Don't hide your face in the bed. I wanna hear you."

He growls letting go of my hair walking over to his dresser. I stay bent over the side of his bed watching him. He grabs something, puts it in his pocket and walks back over to me.

"Stand up and take that dress off."

I stand up doing as he says. I toss the dress to the side and take off my bra and thong. I go to take off my heels but Max grabs my hands.

"Nah leave those on."

I stand back up looking up at him. He smirks looking at me.

"Now bend over the bed again."

I bend over the bed and he kicks my legs apart leaving me open for him. He grabs my hands and I feel cold metal against my wrists as he puts handcuffs on me. I look back at him with puppy dog eyes. He starts rubbing my right ass cheek than smacks it really hard. I let out a little yelp biting onto the bed. He grabs my hair pulling me up a bit with his face right next to mine nipping at my ear. I start breathing heavy getting really turned on by this. He lets go of my hair and starts rubbing my ass again. His hand moves down and starts playing with my folds.

"Oh man. You are so wet for me you little slut."

I lightly moan hearing him call me names. He starts slowly rubbing my clit and toying with me. I move my hands a little and moan a little.

"Max."

He gives no warning and smacks my ass hard again. I yelp again trying to grab something with my hands not succeeding.

"There is no calling me Max during this. You know what to call me."

I bite my lip and moan a little bit.

"Yes Daddy."

He smacks my ass hard again making me moan really loud.

"Good girl."

He starts toying with my pussy again rubbing it really fast. I start moaning louder and louder feeling a knot come into my stomach. He sticks a finger inside me pumping it fast while still rubbing my clit with his other hand. I moan really loud lifting one of my legs biting the bed. He pushes my leg down and keeps going harder.

"Oh my.... Daddy... I'm so... I'm gonna cum...." I bite down on the bed feeling the knot in my stomach release moaning really loud as he keeps going to help me get through my high. He pulls away from me and smacks my ass taking the handcuffs off.

"Climb up on the bed on all fours."

I climb up doing as he says bending my back a little bit. I see him start taking his clothes off and I bite my lip at the sight of him. He climbs up behind me smacking my ass and pushes my back down forth really arching it. He runs his hand down my back and back to my ass. I feel like slap his dick against my folds a couple times than slowly ease the tip inside and take it back out. I start moaning a little and make a pouty face towards him needing him. He sees my face and smirks.

"I was trying to be nice and ease you into it but I guess you don't want easy."

Before I can say anything, he shoves his whole dick inside me making me yelp and moan gripping the bed sheets. He grabs my hips and starts drilling into me. I grip the bedsheets hard moaning really loud. He grips some of my hair and pulls me up to his chest his head next to mine biting my shoulder.

"Tell me who this pussy belongs to. Tell me!"

"It's your pussy Daddy. All yours." He pushes me back down on the bed putting his hand on my face drilling me harder than before. I try to moan or make any noise but I can't with how hard he is pushing my face. I'm not complaining though because I like this kinda punishment. He keeps pushing my head drilling into me harder and harder. I can feel him getting closer as he grips my hair tighter really fucking me harder. I feel him let lose inside me painting my walls white with his cum. He lets go of my hair and smacks my ass lightly. I feel him get up and he goes into his bathroom. I get up, putting his shirt on and see his come back He comes back with a towel and throws it at me. I take it, clean myself up, put my panties on and look over to see his dick is still sorta hard. I move closer, grab it and starts licking it. He looks down at me.

"Whatcha doing Y/N?"

"Helping clean you up."

I put the whole thing in my mouth licking it with my tongue. I take it out and start licking all over it. He runs his fingers through my hair watching me. I sit up wiping my mouth looking at him with an innocent face. He smirks and puts a hand on my cheek.

"Y/N that was so hot."

He runs a finger over my bottom lip looking into my eyes. I smile a little looking at him.

"I have a question for you Y/N."

"Yes Max."

"Can we make this more than a one night stand?"

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend Max?"

"Yes Y/N. Yes I am. Will you be my girlfriend?"

I smile, and jump into his arms hugging him. He holds my ass and I kiss him hard. He kisses me back squeezing my ass. I pull away looking at him.

"I will take that as a yes you will be my girlfriend."

I giggle and get out of his arms putting my hands on his sides.

"Yes Max. I will be your girlfriend."

"YES!"

I giggle and look up at him smiling. He kisses me than grabs my hand.

"Let's go get something to drink and I'll make some food."

We walk downstairs to the kitchen and Max goes to the fridge to find something to eat. I walk out to the living room and gasp seeing Tay and Sammy sitting on the couch. They both turn and look at me. Tay has a giant smile on her face and Sammy is shaking his head.

"What's goi....."

Max walks in seeing them and immediately turns around and goes back to the kitchen. Sammy gets up and follows him. Tay comes over to me and puts her hand on the side of my arm smiling.

"You forgot your phone at our house... But I told you."

I roll my eyes grabbing my phone out of her hand and laugh with her.

"Yeah yeah. You were right. He did really like that dress."

"Yeah I don't want that dress back now. But are you two finally together?"

"Yes we finally are."

We laugh together and go into the kitchen to see Max and Sammy doing a handshake with each other.

"Do you guys wanna just order pizza? I thought I had food but I dont."

Max scratches his head looking at everyone.

"Yes!"

We all say at the same time making Max grab his phone to order the pizza.

We are one little happy wrestling family.

[juceynightmare]

lost and found (18+) part 1 - mjf x reader

my masterlist

lost and found (18+) masterlist

pairing(s): mjf x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, age gap (reader is 21, max is 27), max is an asshole

genre(s): soulmate!au, slow burn, angst

summary:  in which the items that you lose end up in the possession of your soulmate. max misplaces his aew world heavyweight championship title belt and it magically appears in y/n’s room. when her soulmate finally calls her to get his title back before the next show, y/n learns the hard way why her soulmate never responded whenever she’d lose an item that had her number written on it.

|| next part ||

the sound of her phone blaring beside her head made y/n shoot up to a sitting position in her bed with a jolt. she groaned, falling back against the mattress and reaching for her phone, declining the call and shutting her eyes so she could fall back asleep. almost immediately, her phone started ringing again, and with a groan she picked it up and held it against her ear after answering. “hello?” she asked, her voice raspy with sleep.

“where do you live?” came an unfamiliar voice. with her eyes still squeezed shut, y/n‘s eyebrows furrowed.

“sorry, who is this?” she asked, going through the list of men she knew to try and put a face to the voice.

“i need the belt. where do you live?” he asked again, ignoring her question. it was evident in his voice that the man’s patience was wearing thin.

“what fucking belt? dude, you must have the wrong number or something.” she groaned, finally pulling the phone away from her ear and opening her eyes to glance at the number on the screen. she just needed to check the contact, but when she saw it was an unsaved number, y/n knew that the person calling was no one notable.

just as she was about to end the call, the man’s angry voice came from over the speaker, “i don’t have the wrong number, y/n.”

her eyes widened and she sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake. she pressed her phone back to her ear and asked, “how do you know my name?”

“i know your name because just yesterday lost another meaningless item with your number and name written on it. it’s shocking how many lone socks appear in my possession.” he scoffed, and y/n can practically hear the man roll his eyes. “now, tell me where you live. i’ll either send someone to get the belt or you’re going to have to mail it to an address i give you.”

she felt her heart jump in her chest at the realization that the voice of the man that was currently calling her was her soulmate.

soulmates were people who the universe decided belonged together - they were made to be each other's life partners. any item your soulmate lost would appear in your possession and with modern technology, it was easier than ever to find your soulmate. y/n had spent her entire life romanticizing the day she'd finally be contacted by her soulmate and meet who the universe had hand-made just to love her.

ever since she got her own phone, y/n had made it a point to write her name, her phone number, and her social media handles on everything she owned. this was supposed to make it easier to find out who her soulmate was because it’d give them a way to contact her.

of course, his items would appear in her possession. however, there wasn’t anything like his number or social media for her to contact.

clothing, pencils, and even a 3ds, had all appeared in her possession. the most information she got was from the 3ds that had a pokemon game in it.

max.

that was the name of the playable character and ever since then she assumed that her soulmate’s name is max. even after losing his 3ds with his unfinished pokemon game, y/n still never got in contact with him. that didn’t mean that she had stopped trying though.

she just didn’t think it’d be until she was 21 that he’d finally contact her. especially in the modern era where kids were 11 years old and already in contact with their soulmates because of the inventions of phones.

“max?” she asked, hoping that it was the man’s name.

there was a pause on the other end of the line, before max finally spoke up. “how the fuck do you know my name? i’ve never written anything on my shit.”

“your 3ds. it had pokemon in it.” she answered, and feeling her heart drop when she heard the man groan on the other side.

“god, i guess it’s inevitable. the belt does have my name on it. now, are you going to answer the question? i need it by wednesday.” max sighed, his patience wearing impossibly thin as the conversation went on.

“uh, let me look for it first. i just woke up.” she admitted softly, getting out of bed and walking over to her lightswitch.

“isn’t your area code on the east coast too? it’s fucking 2 in the afternoon.” the man’s judgmental tone was hard to miss.

he was right. the sun was peeking through the blinds of her room and that was the only light that had seeped into her dark room.

“i just finished up midterms and it’s the weekend. let a woman rest, max.” she groaned, walking over to her light switch and flicking on her lights. with her room illuminated, she was able to make out the very big, very shiny title belt that was on her desk.

“midterms?” max asked, and y/n could make out the shock that was in his voice. “how old are you?”

“21, you?” she asked, walking over to her desk and admiring the belt.

“just use google. not like i’m here to get to know you better, after all i wasn’t expecting my supposed soulmate to be on the younger side. i just need my fucking belt back and then we can go back to living our separate lives.” he grunted.

she frowned at the man’s answer, clearly not wanting to go back to not knowing who her soulmate is. she certainly hadn’t expected this to be their first conversation, and she absentmindedly ran her fingers over the nameplate on the belt.

maxwell jacob friedman.

she made a mental note to do as the man said and google his name later on.

“well, you already know i’m on east coast.” she hummed, trying to keep the conversation going so that she could keep her soulmate on the phone. she had been dreaming of this day for years, and y/n wasn’t about to let it end so hastily.

“hurry up and just tell me where you live so we can get this over with.” he huffed.

she sighed, finally giving in and telling the man her address. his sour mood had seemed to have finally seeped through the phone speakers and into y/n’s bones to the point where she was also beginning to feel irritated. although, y/n knew she was irritated at the fact that it sounded as though her soulmate wished he never had to call her.

“of course you‘d be from around here.” she heard him mumble. his voice was so low that y/n wondered if she was meant to hear it. “guess it makes it easy though since i can just have caster come over. look, toots, after i get what i need, don’t bother contacting me, alright?”

y/n was taken aback by how certain her soulmate had sounded. “i’m sorry? i’m your fucking soulmate, you know. i’ve been waiting my whole life to finally talk to you and you took so fucking long to reach out to me. i at least want to get to know you better since the universe thinks we should be together.” she huffed, finally reaching her breaking point with her soulmate.

“and it hasn’t come across your mind once that maybe i don’t want to ever meet you?” he asked.

the words had made y/n feel as though the man had taken a sword and stabbed her right through her heart. her hand had clenched at her chest right above where her heart was and it was then that y/n realized that she was physically hurting from his words.

“my... coworker... is coming over to pick up the belt. he’ll be there in 10. his name’s max caster, and he looks like a geek. don’t even bother denying giving him the belt because that belt is very important and worth a lot of money and i’m certain you don’t want a lawsuit on your record for stealing a title belt.” max huffed over the phone.

she stayed silent, blinking away the tears that had welled in her eyes without her even knowing.

“alright, how about we settle then. we only call whenever we lose something that we desperately need back. i’m not answering if you’re calling about losing a sock.” max huffed, ignoring the way he felt as though he had to come to some sort of trade off with her.

“okay.” she responded in a whisper.

“he’s heading over now. don’t lose something important immediately after i end this call because i won’t be as nice as i am now.” he responded before the sound of the call being dropped rang in her ear.

maxwell jacob friedman.

how could the universe be so cruel to give her such a soulmate like him?

|| next part ||