#wheeler yuta x chuck taylor

[dunkzillla]

New Tricks for an Old Dog (8/10)

William Regal x Wheeler Yuta, Chuck Taylor x Wheeler Yuta

Finally managed to get this part out! I’m sorry for the little wait, I thought I’d have it up sooner but the weekend ended up getting supper busy and I had no time to finish it. But it’s a little longer to make up for it. I hope you enjoy!

Title: New Tricks for an Old Dog

Pairings: William Regal/Wheeler Yuta, Chuck Taylor/Wheeler Yuta

Ratings/Warnings: Language, Eating Disorders/Disordered Eating

Word Count: 4,849

Summary: For William Regal, there is no getting over Wheeler Yuta.

Parts: ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN

Regal has lost count of how many days he’s been without Yuta, all he knows is that it’s too many.

Jon kept telling him that he’ll get over it, that it’s nothing like losing your husband to cancer, and every time he has Regal has gotten up and walked away from him, in fear that he’ll lash out at him once again. Jon doesn’t seem to understand.

Yuta may not have been his husband, and they may not have known each other for very long at all, but this — losing Yuta hurts. It’s a different kind of hurt, but it’s still a gaping wound in his chest that he can’t seem to close. Yuta was the first person to make him happy, make him really happy, since Tony passed away. Getting a taste of that and losing it, Regal doesn’t know how to get over that. Now when Yuta was like an angel sent by Tony himself, the most perfect little thing that he’s needed this whole time.

Bryan understands, though it doesn’t mean he knows what to do to help. The first few days he hovered around him, bringing him endless cups of tea to his office that went un-drunk while Regal stared at his computer, trying and failing to look over emails and paperwork. Afterwards, when Regal actually started moving around and trying to be more normal, he offered to take him everywhere, offering to accompany him to places, like Regal was going to do something stupid if he wasn’t accompanied by someone.

He gave up in the end, though he still looked at him with those soft, sympathetic eyes every time Regal lingered on the stairs where Yuta left him just a little too long.

He doesn’t move on and he doesn’t get over Yuta, Regal just adapts. He gets used to being alone in his bed every night, gets used to waking up and not having anything to look forward to. He often thinks about not getting up at all, just letting his business partners and employees take care of what needs to be done, but he knows that Bryan would fuss and fuss over him until it drove Regal mad, so he gets himself up every morning and deals with the fact that Yuta’s gone, he’s not coming back, and Regal is a miserable old man without him.

Jon makes it his personal mission to set Regal up with other young men who he thinks he’ll like, professing that none of them are hookers, and none of them are going to steal his money or break his heart. Each time Regal gives him the same stare, tells him that Yuta wasn’t a hooker, that he wasn’t stealing his money, and that he wants absolutely nothing to do with anyone that Jon is trying to set him up with. A couple of times Jon brings them to the house, thinking cornering Regal at home will force him to be polite and entertain the young man, but Regal politely tells them that they’re welcome to stay and enjoy a nice meal, but he’s got work to do, before retreating to his office and not coming out until Jon gives up and tells them to go home.

Regal knows that Jon is trying, that he feels bad about what happened with Yuta, and he’s just trying to make up for it by helping him find someone to replace him. But Yuta can’t be replaced. The same way no one will ever replace Tony, no one could ever replace Yuta. Yuta is different from everyone else he’s ever met. He’s sweet and kind, fiercely independent, knowledgeable and so willing to learn. Regal had never expected to have intellectual conversations with an escort, and maybe that was stereotypical and downright awful of him, because just because someone had a certain job didn’t mean that they wouldn’t be able to hold high brow conversations, but he just — he didn’t expect it. He’d used escorts before, and each time it had been a simple transaction, a dinner, sex in a hotel room, the exchanging of money and then they went their separate ways. It was simple and it was nice, but impersonal. Yuta was, he was completely different. He often had sat between Regal’s legs, fingers trailing along Regal’s stomach as he told him all about his childhood hobbies, about the world he’d managed to see before he left home to make it on his own, about politics and what he wished the world would do better at. Regal had been, and still is, fascinated by him. He couldn’t understand why Yuta wasn’t doing better in life. He was so driven, he worked so hard, he was so clever and full of sunshine. Yet he worked a minimum wage job while up to his eyeballs in debt. For a time he had to sell himself.

Regal could possibly be biassed, but he blames Yuta’s boyfriend. From the small bits Yuta had told him about the two of them, they met when Yuta moved to the city. Chuck took care of him. But Regal knows that must have stopped at some point, because Yuta isn’t well looked after at all. He only started eating right when he met Regal, only started filling out more when he didn’t have to eat scraps. He desperately hopes that Yuta kept his promise to him and is looking after himself.

He couldn’t help but make one final gesture to help him, though. When he decided to pay Yuta’s debt off, he’d simply deposited a large sum of money into Yuta’s account, hoping that his love would accept it, as one final parting gift.

The deposit bounced right back. It wouldn’t go through, and even though Regal tried a few more times, it wouldn’t go through. So Regal called up the apartment block that he’d dropped Yuta in front of so many nights and found out the landlord for Yuta’s apartment. It took a little while, seeing as Regal didn’t know the apartment number, but he got there in the end, and as soon as he did he called the landlord and told him he was paying off Wheeler Yuta’s debt. The landlord only accepted a check, so he wrote one out and mailed it with priority so that it got to him the next day. The money went out of his bank account the day after he mailed the check and it made him feel better, so much better, knowing that Yuta’s debt had been taken care of.

He waited for a phone call or a text from him, even if only to be shouted at for what he’d done, but one never came.

Regal misses Yuta so, so much. He misses that sweet, sweet laugh, that beautiful smile that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle up. He misses the way Yuta would sink into the seat of his car when Regal would put the seat warmer on. He misses the way his body looked when he’d go to the bathroom multiple times on their nights, complaining about a small bladder, all naked with flushed golden skin, glinting with a thin layer of sweat from their activities.

He’s been to Tony’s grave more than usual. Part of him feels bad that his heartbreak over someone else makes him visit him more than he did before, but visiting Tony brings him peace that he needs so badly right now. He sits on his hunches so long one day that Nyla, the florist across the street from the cemetery, brings him a little stool, worrying about his knees. When he returns it to her he buys her biggest, most expensive bouquet. He thinks about having it sent to Yuta, wanting to brighten his day, but respects his final wishes of not contacting him, and seeing as he already paid the debt off, he decides not to push it. He leaves the flowers with her, thanking Nyla for her kindness.

On his visits to Tony he tells him all about Yuta, their story from start to finish, how he thinks that he sent him, an angel from an angel. He asks why he’s been taken away from him, why his angel doesn’t want him anymore.

Regal so desperately wants the picture of Tony on the headstone to talk, for his mouth to move and say don’t worry, I’ll be home soon, because Tony always used to tell him that, when he was away in meetings trying to get more funding for the YMCA. He wants Tony home and he wants Yuta to come home but he can’t have either, and he feels so, so wronged by life.

He knows that he did some bad things in his youth. That he went a little crazy when Tony died. But he’s not a bad person, or at least he doesn’t think he is, but either way, he doesn’t know whether he deserves to lose both of his loves.

The worst of it all is that he knows he could look after Yuta. He knows he could give him a good life, the life that he’s so desperately trying to fight for. He could. But Yuta feels a loyalty to Chuck, or maybe he loves him enough to kill himself to stay with him rather than leave him to have the life he wants, the life he deserves.

Regal wishes he’d had more chance to talk to Yuta, to change his mind. He left so quickly that night, after they’d just made love, the most amazing sex they’d ever had, that made Regal think that yeah, he could ask Yuta to stay and he would. That Yuta felt the way he did. But then Yuta was pushing him away, telling him that he couldn’t do it anymore, that they were never supposed to end up like that.

No, maybe they weren’t. Regal hadn’t exactly been looking for a partner, he had simply been looking for company on the long lonely nights. But Yuta had become so, so much more to him, entirely by accident. Was that so wrong? That things had panned out differently than they had intended? To Regal, no, but clearly to Yuta it was. He was so upset, shoving himself into his clothes, leaving Regal in a fit of despair.

He still has the suit Yuta had left in a pile on his bedroom floor hanging up in his closet. He can’t even say it smells like Yuta, because the cologne he’d been wearing the night of the charity gala was Regal’s, the faintest hint of the body wash he’d used was also Regal’s. It just smelt like Regal. Only the image of Yuta wearing it in his head remained.

He wishes he had more of him to hold onto, more than just the memories in his head. He wishes he had something to hold at night, as sad as it may be.

“Old man, are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Jon says, voice cutting through Regal’s thoughts. He’s been staring at the newspaper in his hand for a good ten minutes now, not taking in any words or anything.

“I may have zoned out for a minute, mind repeating yourself?”

Jon rolls his eyes, stuffing the end of his sandwich into his mouth. “I said, there’s a guy at the gym, tall, lanky, pretty. You’d like him, he’s British.”

“Sounds wonderful, Jon.”

“Yeah. You should meet him. He’s your type.”

Ah, so that’s what Jon means. He wants Regal to date this guy.

“His names Zack, he can fight, and he’s a total money hater, so he won’t—“

“Darling, I don’t care. I won’t be dating anyone, as we’ve discussed before.”

“Regal, come on, you have to move on—“

Bryan’s phone interrupts their conversation, coming to life loudly in his pocket. Regal’s not a huge fan of the boys answering their phones at the table, but they’ve all pretty much finished eating, so he allows it.

“Hey baby.”

Regal flicks his paper, trying to get his eyes to settle back on the words so he can continue reading.

“He’s what? What happened?”

Regal looks away from the paper and looks to Bryan, intrigued. It must be Daniel, because Bryan doesn’t call anyone else pet names, but it isn’t like him to call Bryan in distress.

“Yeah, okay, okay babe I’ll tell him. Want me to come get you?”

Regal raises his eyebrows. He suddenly gets a sick feeling in his stomach, and he folds the paper up and puts it on the table.

“Yeah, okay, be there soon. You too babe, bye.” Bryan puts the phone down and before he can even say anything, Regal knows something has happened with the way that he turns to look at him.

“Bryan?”

“Yuta’s in the hospital. He collapsed at work.”

Regal feels his blood run cold at the words. Yuta’s in the hospital. Yuta collapsed. His chair screeches loudly against the wood of the floor as he quickly pushes himself away from the table. He doesn’t even need to think, he can’t think, he’s going to the hospital, he’s going to see Yuta. He needs to know he’s okay, he needs to be there for him.

“I’ll drive you, Daniel wants me to pick him up.” Bryan’s saying, pushing himself away from the table too. Regal’s head is screeching, like an alarm going off and he can’t stop it. Yuta’s hurt. Yuta is hurt.

“Wait, hold on a minute. What if he doesn’t want you there?” Jon says. He’s standing up too, but Regal knows he’s not coming with them.

“Then he’ll tell me that when I get there, Jonathon. But the person that I love is in the hospital, and if you think I’m not going to see him just because you have something against escorts then you are sorely mistaken.”

“He don’t want you, Regal. He broke up with you. You know you have to move in and get over at him at some point, it’s been months.”

Regal looks at Jon and shakes his head. “There’s just no getting over him.”

Bryan ushers him out of the door and towards his car.

“What did he say? Did he tell you what happened?” Regal asks Bryan as he hurriedly buckles himself into the front seat of his car.

“He said he didn’t see it happen, but he went to see Yuta at work today and they told him that he collapsed yesterday and he went right to the hospital when he found out. He said his face is all bruised and his hands burnt and they’re keeping him in for a while. He said he’s not in good shape.”

“Oh heavens, my boy. He hasn’t been looking after himself. How did he end up with a burn? If he collapsed at work?”

“Daniel didn’t say, he just wanted me to tell you.”

“Thank you, tell Daniel thank you when you see him.”

The drive to the hospital doesn’t take very long, it’s only a few minutes away and they manage to get through the afternoon traffic pretty easily.

It’s a big hospital, the one that Regal used to come to nearly every day when Tony was going through his treatments, and then it all came to an end when they realised it wasn’t working, and Tony chose to spend the last of his time at home, where he felt he belonged.

Daniel is waiting outside of the hospital entrance, scrolling on his phone, but he looks up when they approach.

“Hey, baby.” Bryan says to him, taking him into his arms.

“Yeah. He’s okay, just, kind of went into autopilot getting here and finding him. He’s in room twenty eight, on floor two, ward seventeen.”

Regal squeezes his shoulder. “Thank you, darling. Bryan will take you home, I’ll take care of our Wheeler, I promise.”

Daniel smiles at him, he’s a soft little thing and Regal can see why Bryan likes him. “I know you will, that’s why I called. Chuck’s not… he doesn’t…”

“I know, Daniel, I know. And I’m sorry that I allowed him to slip through my fingers when I never should have, I’m sorry.”

“Just take care of him now, he really needs it.”

Regal squeezes his shoulder again, and then he’s leaving them to go back home, and he’s speed walking into the hospital, navigating it with ease as he remembers doing it so many years ago. He takes the stairs because he can’t wait for the elevator, pushing through all the stairs until he gets onto the second floor. He finds ward seventeen, breezing past the nurses desk until he gets to room twenty eight, the room Daniel said was Yuta’s, and he knocks on the door lightly before opening it.

Yuta is lying in the hospital bed, dressed in the flimsy hospital gown that is way too big for him, his hand and wrist bandaged, and his pretty, beautiful face is bruised on one side, stitches in his eyebrow. He looks awful. Skinny, pale, bruised and sad. But his eyes light up when he looks up and sees Regal.

“William…”

“Oh darling… what happened to you?”

He takes a seat next to Yuta’s bed, notably empty with no Chuck around, and takes Yuta’s hand, being careful not to hurt the bandages.

“I passed out at work. I was steaming some milk, and everything just kind of went all fuzzy and loud and then I woke up in the back of an ambulance. They said I’m malnourished, and have a concussion, so they’re keeping me in for observation.”

“My love…”

Yuta drops his head, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I tried to look after myself, I really did. Things just got so hard, we had a flood, and we lost everything, and Chuck used our money to buy a playstation. I had to get another job.”

“Where is he?”

“Home, he’s getting me some clothes and my toothbrush and stuff. He said he was coming back later.”

Regal kind of feels excited about the fact that he’s finally going to meet Yuta’s good-for-nothing boyfriend. That he’s going to tell him how lousy he is for not looking after Yuta properly.

“Have you eaten?”

“I’m on a meal plan here for a few days. Three meals a day plus snacks and those protein drinks they give the elderly.”

Regal nods. He’d like to speak to the doctor if he can, Yuta deserves better than hospital food, and he knows Claudio can make whatever they’re giving him better. He’ll call Bryan in a bit and get him to bring some extra stuff.

He feels Yuta’s fingers twitch against his hand. “What are you doing here?” Yuta whispers.

Regal smiles, “Darling, do you really think I’d hear you’re in hospital and not come to see you?”

“How did you…”

“Daniel. He called Bryan and told him to tell me, we drove straight here.”

“Of course he did, he was giving me an earful about Chuck while he was here just.”

“My love… whatever he said he was probably right,” Regal says, and when Yuta opens his mouth to object he shakes his head, lifting a hand to gently touch Yuta’s face, where his skin is mottled with bruises, pale and tired. “I’m not saying this as a jealous man, Wheeler. I’m saying this as someone who cares very deeply for you. You are being taken advantage of. Whether he knows it or not, he’s taking advantage of how much you care about him and his dreams by sitting at home doing nothing while you work yourself to death, almost literally to death, just to be able to afford to live.” He says, shaking his head.

Regal kisses Yuta’s bandaged hand. “What’s been happening, love? I thought I’d helped a little when I paid off your rental debt.”

Yuta crumbles and begins to cry. It breaks Regal’s heart, and he quickly pulls out the handkerchief from his pocket to wipe Yuta’s eyes.

“The landlord took the money. I called up to pay my rent and he just laughed at me. He used it for his own debt. He used the insurance money for the burst pipe to pay off some of the debt, so we didn’t have any help with refurbishing the apartment after everything was ruined. Chuck’s friend gave us a couch, and I wanted to use what little money we had left over from me working the street to get a fridge. He wanted to use it to buy a set up. He brought the set up while I was at work. Then the landlord took the money you sent. We were fucking broke again and we didn’t even have a working fridge and the beds fucking damp and rotting. There’s watermarks everywhere. I had to get another job, almost went back to the street but I ended up as a dishwasher in a Chinese restaurant. I guess it was just too much. I’ve missed you so much.” Yuta says in between his crying. He clings onto Regal’s hand, clearly on enough pain medication that his hand doesn’t seem to bother him.

“I was working yesterday, steaming milk, and I thought I heard your voice. I thought you’d come into the shop and I just, I looked back too quickly I guess, the next thing I know my face was hitting off the metal counter and I was on the floor. The steamed milk burnt my hand.”

Regal keeps gently wiping Yuta’s eyes. “Wheeler, why didn’t you call me, petal? I would have sent more money to pay off the rent. I would have refurbished the apartment. You didn’t need to suffer like that.”

“I couldn’t, William. I was too embarrassed. I told you I could look after myself, I told you that Chuck and I would get through it. How could I call you and say that actually I was wrong? After what I said that night? I’d made my decision. I don’t deserve you, William.”

Regal shakes his head again, smoothing his thumb over Yuta’s bandaged knuckles. “Rubbish, darling. No matter when or how you called me, I’d have been there. I’d give you absolutely anything you needed or desired, because you do deserve it. You deserve the world. You’re the most wonderful, sweet, kind, hard working young man I have ever met. Even if you still don’t want this old man, I want to take care of you. I don’t want you working yourself to death anymore, dear.”

“I want you.” Yuta whispers. He sits up in bed a little more, leaning over to press his forehead against Regal’s. “I’ve missed you more than I’ve missed anyone in my whole life. I’ve spent the last few months missing you, comparing every single second I spent without you to the seconds I spent with you. I loved Chuck. I did. And I care about him, even though he makes terrible decisions I still care about him. But I can’t… I’ve been so miserable without you.”

“Then my love, how about we stop being so miserable? I know we didn’t start in the most wonderful of ways. I really showed myself up by paying a young beautiful man to sleep with me, but Wheeler I can promise you that I can love you and look after you and make you happy despite that. I’d like you to be mine, if you’d have me.”

Yuta let’s out a wet little noise and nods, a tear rolling down his cheeks. “Every and any day, William, you’re my light and it’s been so dark… I’m sorry for—“

“Oh no, darling, you don’t need to start with all that. I was wrong for asking you to stay so quickly, I hadn’t even told you how I felt, and Jon had been awful to you. He told me that he approached you that night. I’m sorry love, you shouldn’t have been subjected to that. I gave him a good what for, I promise you.”

“I turned him down. I couldn’t — even if the money had been good. I realised I didn’t want to sleep with anyone but you. And that… scared me. Because of Chuck. I realised I’d fallen for you, that I’d let it go too far.” Wheeler says softly, keeping his forehead pressed against Regal’s.

“I think I fell for you the moment I met you, Wheeler. You really are the most wonderful little thing. I should have spoken to you sooner, I was being a fool.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference. I felt like I should be loyal to Chuck. No matter how I felt for you, because it was a work thing… I felt like I had to choose Chuck. But it’s not been the same with him since I met you. I’ll have to talk to him… but I want to be with you.”

“And I with you, my love. But rest for now. You can talk with Chuck when you feel up to it, for now darling you need to rest. I’ll stay for a little while, then I’ll see if I can find a doctor. They might have you on a meal plan but I am far too familiar with hospital food. I’d rather get you on a Claudio meal plan that would be more beneficial to you. I’ll get everything sorted for you, Wheeler. Please, rest for me.”

Yuta has a few moments of trying to fight it, telling Regal he’s okay, really, but Regal can see how tired he is, months and months worth of exhaustion sitting heavy on him. He relents in the end, laying back down against the bed but keeping a hand in Regal’s. He doesn’t mind one bit, he’s more than happy to hold Yuta’s little hand while he watches him fall asleep.

Regal makes a few phone calls while Yuta dozes, one to his own doctor, to get them ready and on stand by to monitor Yuta when he gets out of hospital, one to Claudio, to start thinking up dishes that are going to be good for someone suffering from malnutrition, and one to Bryan, asking him to get someone to bring his car up to the hospital.

A nurse comes in to check something, waking Yuta up with her picking and prodding. He’s completely adorable, all big soft eyes looking around the room like he’s wondering where he is, until they land on Regal and a smile stretches across his face. That makes Regal feel all warm inside.

“How are you feeling?”

“A little better. I know I shouldn’t but… it’s nice just to be able to lay here and sleep. I feel like I haven’t slept like this in so long.” Yuta admits.

“You don’t ever have to work yourself like that again, love, I won’t ever tell you what you should do with your life, but you’ll never need two jobs again.”

Yuta’s mouth opens to respond, but then the door is clicking, and when Regal turns, about to ask the nurse why she must keep prodding poor Yuta when she only just did it, his eyes fall upon a very tall, broad shouldered man. His hair is dark, growing out over his forehead and almost covering his eyes, a dark smattering of facial hair across his jaw. He’s wearing a football vest and grey sweatpants, a stain of grease on the thigh. Regal knows who it is straight away.

“Chuck.” Yuta breathes out, sitting up. His hand slips out of Regal’s, but Chuck’s eyes have already seen it, and he’s looking at Regal like he’s got three heads.

“Who’s this?”

Yuta physically winces, and Regal suddenly feels very protective, like he wants to stand in between Chuck and Yuta and not let him near him.

“I…”

“Would you like me to stay, Wheeler? Because I can. But I can make myself scarce, if you feel that would be better.” Regal says in a quiet voice, ignoring Chuck who’s standing in the doorway. He wants to lean over and kiss that scared look away from Yuta’s face, but he knows that wouldn’t be fair, not to Chuck and definitely not to Yuta, who would deal with the fall out.

“Could you give us a little bit of time? I need to do this alone but, I’ll, I’ll need you afterwards.” Yuta whispers, and Regal nods.

“Of course. I’m going to see if I can find the doctor, talk to him about your meal plan. And I’ll speak to the admin about the fees. I’ll have it taken care of.”

Regal stands, fighting the urge to kiss Yuta’s forehead and instead squeezing his uninjured hand, before stepping away from the bed and towards the door.

“Who the hell are you?” Chuck shoulder checks him on his way past, and Regal bites back every single clever and witty retort he can think of, in favour of not upsetting Yuta, and, with his most dazzling and daring smile, simply says,

“I’m William Regal, the pleasure, Chuck Taylor, is all mine.”

[daddyhausen]

• you and me, forevermore •

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{ summary } — dustin has feelings of self doubt after you were forced to watch him get attacked during that parking lot brawl.

{ warnings } — injury, blood, forced to watch, hurt/comfort, soft sex, praise, fingering, shower sex, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, male + female orgasms, multiple orgasms, squirting vaginal creampie, internal cumshot

{ word count } — 4.8k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x chuck taylor

{ genre } — hurt/comfort, smut

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your blood ran cold at the sight. the carnage that unfolded behind only a single wall from you. you stared in horror at the monitor, throat running dry upon seeing your brother drenched in his own blood, trent’s eyes glazed over, deep browns seeming so lifeless as his head was slammed into the hood of a car by a vicious jon moxley. you winced, a pseudo-feeling as if your own head had collided with the exterior, watching the blood trickle down your brother's skull.

“oh god, i can’t look…” you muttered to yourself shying away into the shoulder of an equally worried orange cassidy, whose eyes, although covered by his sunglasses, displayed the same expression of shock and horror, his eyebrows knitted together, lips forming into a disgusted scowl. he kept a hand firmly around your shoulder, a comforting, protective hold, squeezing tightly with reassurance.

“jesus…” orange muttered under his breath, the sound mixed with a gasp of some sort. despite the horrors that played out on the monitor, and the desire to keep your eyes averted from the screen, not wanting to face whatever it showed. despite that you looked anyway upon feeling orange’s arm tense up around you.

you peered up, eyes widening and instantly welling over with tears, a gasp barely squeaked from your throat. there dustin laid, his head encapsulated in a pool of his own blood, the crimson mask washed over his peachy-tan skin, eyes half rolled back in his skull, looking half dead himself. an enraged wheeler yuta hovered over him, screwdriver in hand, a gleeful moxley watched on as his protege drove the weapon deeper into dustin’s forehead.

dustin had spared his former student from a beating, he still held love for the boy he once trained. the same could not be said for wheeler, who did not hesitate, fueled by anger and hatred, his former mentor’s blood now dripping through the cracks in his fingers.

“i…i need to go out there-“

“are you insane, what if you get hurt?!” a normally mellow orange cassidy spoke up in a fit of worry, the arm that was once wrapped around your shoulder now tightly clenched around your wrist, holding you back from aiding your brother and your fiancé.

“i could care less about myself right now!”

you ripped your arm from orange’s grasp in a state of panic, desperate in aiding the two men you cared most about in this world. the act left orange perplexed for a moment, watching on as you tried to decipher the halls and corridors that led to the entrance of the parking lot. he admired your courage no matter how stupid the situation seemed, he surely knew that dustin and trent would have his head if anything were to happen to you.

you were on autopilot, vision blurry through a cascading waterfall of tears, mind hazy with possibilities of what horrors could have happened to your brother and beloved. the bellows of the crowd drew closer, a foggy light emitting from the parking lot entrance followed by the thunderous sound of metal clashing against concrete. with a panicked orange cassidy hot on your tail, you turned the corner, greeted by the sight you had witnessed mere moments ago on the monitor. your brother the closest to you, claudio looming over like a dark cloud while trent writhed in his own blood.

you froze, feet felt as if they’d been glued to the floor the only thing that you could do was stare as you brother got beaten to a bloody pulp, how his blood seeped from his skull into the concrete below. sure, you’ve seen your brother beaten and bloody, but never to this extent, not in the way claudio was bludgeoning him.

your eyes burned, breath paralyzed in your chest. a burst of adrenaline hitting you, charging at claudio with all your might, fists balled up throwing careless punches in the direction of the swissman. said punches were merely thuds against his back paying no mind to your desperate, weak attempts at him to stop the assault on trent.

claudio stopped for a mere moment, he stood up, his sizeable frame towering over you like a mighty oak, hands stained red with your brothers blood, the crimson trickle down his knuckles and fingertips to the concrete below. he turned to face you, cocking his head to the side with slight inquisition. you tried to put on a brave face, tried to mask your tears for your brother’s sake. claudio leaned over you slightly with a small chuckle, his breath laboured, lightly fanning your forehead.

“what’s this? come to protect your brother now, have you?

he mockingly pet the top of your head, trent’s blood staining your hair as you gave a frightened whimper.

“aren’t you a brave little thing?”

you did not want to relinquish eye contact, afraid of his next move, although you could not help but notice orange’s pained groans from behind you. you turned your head, catching a mere glimpse of moxley whipping orange with a chain before claudio grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

your body stiffened up, feeling your heart drop into the pit of your stomach at the unwanted contact.

“not so fast, little one.” you mentally cringed at the nickname he anointed you with.

before you could even comprehend his words or even catch a glimpse of your brother laying face down in a pool of his own blood, claudio grabbed you by the wrists, his large hand could easily engulf both at once. he dragged you away from your brother, trent was unconscious, still breathing thank god, but he had not moved since your arrival. and orange…you just hoped mox would stop his assault soon.

claudio’s grip was tight, sure to leave red marks by the time he’d hopefully let go. despite your struggle and silent protest he would not let up. he led you behind a silver car, your mind in a daze, you did not comprehend the situation in front of you until he spoke up again. although his words absent in your ears.

you came to, peering down at your feet, horrified at the sight below. wheeler yuta hovered over your beloved, still continuing to bludgeon him with a screwdriver into that open wound on his forehead. your throat ran dry, feeling an overwhelming sense of nausea washed over you. you thought you’d run out of tears to cry, but seeing dustin in such a state it was heart breaking.

“dustin…” you whimpered. trying to break free from claudio’s grasp, to lunge yourself over your fiance and shield him from their violence. claudio’s grip only tightened, locking your arms behind your back, keeping you secured to his chest.

yuta stopped his assault momentarily, dropping the screwdriver by his side, staring up at you with a sickly grin as dustin reached a hand out in the direction of your voice. yuta’s empathy had been torn to shreds by the BCC; he was no longer that sweet innocent boy dustin helped train; he was a violent, vicious killer, hell bent on causing havoc with every step. once yuta had caught your distress, just as dustin’s fingertips met the tip of your shoe he began to bludgeon him again, using only his fist.

“stop…please…” you begged, voice barely above a whimper, throat hoarse and raw from pleading for mercy. you could feel claudio’s smirk against the nape of your neck, grinning from ear to ear at your lover’s torment.

mox sauntered around the corner with his usual, relaxed demeanour, completely unfazed by the bloodshed he and the rest of the bcc had caused. he threw the fork he’d used to bleed your brother dry. the clink of the metal against the concrete was sickening. he noticed you in claudio’s grasp, begging and pleading over the almost lifeless body of your fiancé. he smirked, a wicked thought conjuring in his mind.

he grabbed your shoulder, forcibly pushing you onto your knees, not quite eye level with dustin but enough that you could see the hope drain from his eyes. the bright green now a steely grey. jon cupped your cheeks directing your head to dustin, making sure that the image of him beaten and battered was permanent in your memory.

“look at him.” jon forced your face closer to dustin as wheeler held him up by the bloody roots of his hair. so close you could actually smell the iron of the crimson.

“he’s pathetic. can’t even protect himself let alone his girl. are you sure this is the guy you wanna marry, miss y/n?”

you remained silent, physically unable to speak as you stared into dustin’s eyes. they were glassy, bloodshot and burning from his own blood leaking into them. they were empty, void of any emotion other than heartbreak and worry. as much as he wanted to hold eye contact with you, a silent reassurance that he was alright, physically he couldn’t, the loss of blood proved too much for him, he was tired, broken, a shell of a man.

“it ain’t too late, dollface. if you wanna change your mind, you just give us a call” jon smirked, rubbing the bloody pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, following the action with a flirtatious wink. you felt sick to your stomach, that and the taste of iron upon your lips did not help.

you bared your teeth, biting down hard on his thumb, as hard as you could muster. not enough to draw blood by any means but strong enough that you hoped it would elicit a reaction from a masochist such as moxley. instead, he only smirked, a sick twisted, almost perverted smile, as if the sick bastard was actually enjoying himself.

“oh would you look at that” jon turned his head, now facing claudio, barely acknowledging the bite. “pretty little thing got some bite to her, she’d be perfect for us”

“i know a way we could put that mouth to better use” yuta chimed in, still holding dustin up by the scalp. dustin made weak attempts to protest the lewd remarks made by his former protege despite the metaphorical nails clawing at the inside of his throat, a disgusting burn that ached every time he swallowed. yuta released his grip, dropping the screwdriver in the process, his body loomed over yours, even more so as he knelt before you, keeping eye contact that you very much would have liked to avoid. he gripped your chin harshly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“i heard she’s pretty good at using it” that remark from yuta could be a testament to your sharp tongue or something more vulgar. you decided on the latter given his previous comment, which no doubt made you cringe internally with disgust.

jon simply tilted his head, signalling for claudio and yuta to cease their assault. claudio dropped your arms, shoving you to the ground with a rough thud, grazing your elbows against the concrete, you let out a sharp hiss, a sound which made dustin’s ears prick up with panic. yuta let dustin’s head fall to the floor, luckily you were able to place your hand underneath his temple before it made contact with the ground.

yuta said nothing, merely eyeing you as he sauntered off with the other two, offering your brother one last kick before leaving the parking lot. you crawled closer to dustin, managing to make it to your knees and cradle his head securely in your lap. his eyes closed, breathing had slowed. he was a wreck, drained of energy.

“dustin, look at me please…” you whimpered through tears, cupping his bloodstained cheeks in your palms. it took him a few seconds, eventually he let his eyes flutter open. he saw an angel. he saw heaven, he saw you. he opened his mouth to speak before you cut him off.

“shhh, don’t speak. it’s me, i’m right here” your voice shaky, still trying to quell the sobs that raged in your throat. he closed his mouth, instead raising his hand to cup your cheek, caressing the skin. he widened his eyes, horrified at the bloodstain his finger prints had left behind. he gulped thickly trying to blink back the tears that were threatening to spill, instead grabbing your palm, the one against his cheek, pressing his lips to your engagement ring, letting his lips linger there for a moment before pulling away, a sob rose in his throat, the once crystal white diamond now stained with droplets of ruby red.

it was as if you were an untouched canvas and him a tormented artist, every brushstroke of his skin against yours taints you. how could he let someone as beautiful as you be ruined by his blood?

-

he remained silent as the doctor stitched up his wound. practically dead to the world, in his own paranoia filled trance only brought back to reality for a short moment by the subtle squeeze of your hand in his. although his vision blurred, head spinning with a possible concussion, in his peripherals, he noticed the spots of red littered throughout the lavender sundress you were wearing. a large stain at the end of its skirt. once again, his blood had tainted your beauty. his eyes panned up, heartbroken as he noticed you were avoiding his gaze, was he really that horrible to look at right now? his eyes continued to scan your figure, your elbows were cut and beginning to bruise.

he was overwhelmed with anger for being so weak as to allow claudio and mox to get their hands on you. he saw red, yet was too overcome with exhaustion to mutter anything more than a whisper.

“you’re hurt…and the blood-” he barely croaked out, there was an unnatural rasp in his voice.

“i’m fine dustin and the blood is not mine” you smoothed over the back of his hand with your thumb in an effort to console him.

“but it’s mine…”

you gave a soft sigh in response, silently thanking the doctor as he finished stitching up dustin’s forehead. you were overcome with emotion yet could not bring yourself to say anything, just basking in the uncomfortable silence as dustin failed to meet your gaze. you’d never seen your love so broken, so fragile, he barely responded to the soft tug on his arm as you tried to rouse him out of his self induced trance.

the door swung open, orange stumbling inside, clutching his ribs with your brother on his arm. an equally worried statlander aiding your brother also. she made eye contact with you, offering a silent, yet apologetic smile for her absence. you turned to dustin, who now finally locked eyes with you, glancing into your teary bloodshot eyes with a minute of love and fear. he titled his heads towards the door, signaling for you to go check on trent. you gave his hand a rough squeeze, a quiet rebuttal to his action.

“go.” he muttered through a broken voice. you sighed softly, planting a gentle kiss to his forehead, right on his newly stitched up wound before going to check on your brother.

orange and kris sat trent down on a crate by the door. offering a parting glance to their teammate before going to check on dustin.

“jesus christ are you alright?” you questioned, panic ranging through your voice. “mom is gonna have a heart attack when she finds out”

“mom will be fine, she’s seen me in much worse condition.” trent’s lightheartedness seemed out of place for this current situation. still you had to commend him for being so chipper despite just receiving the beating of his life.

the room fell silent for a moment as you observed your brothers injuries. a cut to his forehead, near the hairline, the other atop his head. his shoulders and back torn to shreds. he gave a small wince as he placed a haphazardly made ice pack to his left shoulder.

“how’s he holding up?” trent motioned his head toward dustin, who sat at the far end of the room, remaining dead silent as kris and orange tried their best to communicate with him.

“physically he’ll be fine…” you began, turning back to face your love, seeing how he had not raised his head from the ground since you left his side.

“emotionally…i don’t know. he’s barely said a word since everything happened…”

your throat grew tight, sobs threatening to spill.

“do you think he’s mad at me for going out there?” you stuttered through your words, turning back to face your brother. trent bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating his next sentence

“although it was a stupid thing for you to do, he’s not mad at you, he loves you too much, kid”

trent pulled you into his shoulder, despite the seering pain. he hugged you tight, determined to comfort his little sister in her time of anguish.

“now go take care of him, i’ll be fine.”

“are you sure?” you questioned, swiping some of the congealed blood from his cheeks.

“yeah don’t worry about me, i got kris and orange to take care of me”

-

the drive home from daily’s place was met with uncomfortable silence. you helped dustin into the passenger seat despite his silent protests. opting to drive since the blood loss would prove too dangerous for him to drive. he sat there begrudgingly, staring dead into the road in front of him or on the odd occasion at him twiddling his thumbs in his lap. for hours this went on, you chose not to speak, for the heartbreak in your voice might set off tears for the both of you.

you just wanted to be home with him right now, safe and warm behind the walls that you owned, in your own bed cuddled up with your fiancé. the love of your life, but the drive from jacksonville to kentucky was more than ten hours and you were not going to risk the fatigue. instead opting to book a hotel for the night. dustin could not stop repeating the words moxley had been spouting to you during their conflict, finding himself agreeing with said words

he was pathetic. he did fail to protect you. he wasn’t even sure if he even deserved to be marrying you.

you could sense that he was in his head so you reached over to untangle his fingers to lace them with your own. reminiscent of the taxi ride to the park where he proposed. those three small squeezes of reassurance and comfort.

you pulled up into the hotel parking lot. throwing on your cardigan, wrapping yourself in the thick material so as to not worry any staff with what blood still stained your dress. dustin remained catatonic, only responding with simple yes’s and no’s to any question asked. you managed to secure a room despite the lateness and unexpectedness of your arrival, the both of you still remaining distant to each other inside the elevator as it took you to the third floor.

“are you alright?” you finally broke the silence as the two of you entered the hotel room. dustin set his bag beside the door, chewing his bottom lip anxiously.

“i uh…” he stammered. “i just wanna have a shower”

you nodded in response, taking him by the shoulder lightly, planting a long, delicate kiss to his cheek before letting him go. he offered you a small smile in return before hastily making his way into the bathroom. once you heard the door close you gave a heavy sigh, still trying to hold back tears, swallowing your sobs with a thick gulp. you knew he was hurting right now, you needed to be strong for him.

you removed your cardigan, grabbing your bags to place them into your bedroom for the night, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in the small corridor. you stopped in your tracks, eyeing yourself. your favourite dress, stained with the blood of your beloved, your knees bruised and elbows grazed, mascara smeared around your bottom lashes from crying, you looked like a mess but dustin evidently felt much worse.

you stripped yourself. only remaining in your bra and panties as you tossed the dress into the washing machine residing behind a sliding door next to the bathroom. it won’t do much in removing the stain fully but at least it will get most of the blood out.

through the mix of the shower water and the washing machine, soft sniffles could be heard from the bathroom, your heart sank as you pressed your ear against the door, hearing dustin’s muffled sobs from outside.

“dustin..?” you questioned quietly, he ignored you, the sound of his presence could still be heard. you pursed your lips tightly together. stripping off your bra and panties as you entered the bathroom. dustin faced away from you, the water hitting his back as he had his head pressed against the shower wall. small streaks of red flowed down his perfect body, despite the solemn scenario you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

you quietly entered the shower, pressing your body close to his, arms wrapping around his torso as you let the warm water encapsulate you both. you cupped his cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the stubble of his beard as you bared your soul to him through your gaze.

“why are you crying, my love?” he peered down at you, cheeks hot and eyes puffy with tears.

“i’m sorry…” he began “you shouldn’t have had to see me like that”

“like what…? bloody?-“

“no.” he interrupted harshly. a thick gulp rose in his throat.

“weak” he spoke up after a moment of silence.

“dustin you’re not weak-“

“yes i am!” he sobbed. “you heard mox. i’m pathetic! you were the one person in this world i wanted to protect and i couldn’t even do that right!”

he held onto you for dear life, so afraid of letting you go.

“why do you love me, y/n? how can you keep loving me after seeing me lose time and time again?” his breath shaky and hoarse

“you don’t deserve to be married to someone like me. you deserve a winner like claudio, someone who can protect you, like moxley…” he paused for a moment, a look of disdain growing on his handsome features

“hell…even yuta-“

“don’t you even start” you held his gaze when he began to avert his eyes.

“i don’t want claudio mox, and you know yuta would never stand a chance, dustin. i love you, i’ve only ever wanted you. if i were in a room with a hundred men i’d always choose you. i can’t wait to be your wife”

your voice cracked, begging for him to see reason in your words.

“but why?” he stammered. “why do you love me?”

“dustin…” you hummed, pressing your forehead against his.

“your smile brightens up my day, your laugh i could recognise anywhere. the way you scrunch your nose when you’re deep in thought or the way you stick your tongue out when you’re concentrating.”

you continued to praise him with words of your adoration.

“you’re so kind, so caring, to everyone you meet. you’re talented, smart, you’re so unabashedly you.”

you cupped his cheeks firmly in your palms, keeping your gaze fixated on his.

“i love the way the way you love me. you look at me like i’m the only woman in the world, you treat me like a queen even though sometimes i feel i’m not deserving of it. even when we’re at our worst, you never stop loving me. and that is why i love you”

dustin pursed his lips into a thin line, a soft exhale through his nostrils

“and i’ll always be there for you. win or lose. if you’re holding a belt up high or writhing in your own blood-“

dustin winced at the mention of blood.

“i’m never leaving your side”

you pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, lingering there for a moment, feeling his bottom lip quiver, trying to muffle a sob. he gave a shaky exhale through parted lips. removing your hands from his cheeks, gingerly placing them around his neck.

“let me at least prove that i am a man deserving of your love”

“dustin, you don’t need to prove anything-“

“please, y/n!” his voice broke through a slight crack “just let me do the one thing i know how to do right”

you cocked your head in slight confusion, feeling dustin reciprocate your previous actions, cupping your cheeks, pulling you in for a passionate, fiery kiss. he moaned softly against your lips, smoothing the apples of your cheeks with the calloused pads of his thumbs.

“dustin-“ you managed to squeak in between kisses

“shh sweetheart, let me make you feel good”

he angled his hips against yours, swirling them slightly. you felt his cock hardening against your upper thigh, right in the axis of your hip, grinding himself into you. the water covered the both of you, with your eyes closed, it felt as if the two of you were entombed behind the curtains of a magical waterfall. you melted into the kiss, succumbing to the power of him, letting him embrace you tight against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin radiate against yours

“jump.” he demanded softly, breaking the kiss barely for a couple of seconds before diving in once more. you complied, jumping into his arms, your back pressed against the wall as he adjusted himself. his cock teasing your entrance momentarily, his tip tracing circles against your clit, feeling your wetness began to pool against your folds.

you jutted your hips forward slightly, the head of his cock entombed by your warmth, his mouth hung agape against yours, breathing moans of your praise against your skin. he guided himself in, a pleasured groan escaping his lips.

“fuck…so good for me” he breathed out, your warmth finally full with himself your hips guiding his movements with slow gentle swirls, feeling his cock swell inside you with pleasure.

he kept his movements deliberately slow, wanting your pleasure to be drawn out as long as he could hold it. you whimpered into his shoulder, teeth lightly nipping at the skin.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart,” he repeated like a mantra. “i’m sorry i scared you.”

“dustin…” you whined, trying to compose yourself as he slid in and out of you, hips rocking with your movements. “it’s not your fault…”

dustin hooked one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist with ease, the other hooked atop his arm. the sheer size difference between the two of you was enough to complement his strength in holding you up.

“i love you. i love you so fucking much it hurts…”

dustin’s groans increased with the speed of his thrusts, his hands gripped your flesh tighter, his kisses became more intense than before.

“god…i can’t wait to marry you…” he grunted, pressing open mouth kisses to the column of your neck. “fuck if i could marry you right now, i would sweetheart”

you remained silent for the moment, just letting yourself bask in the sound of his moans, letting them ring and reverberate in your ear. your walls clenched around him, a thick pulse rising between your thighs, arousal churning in your stomach as you cling to him. you felt no need to announce your orgasm, dustin already felt the impending gush of your sweetness, letting himself succumb to. his own arousal, muttering a chorus of “i love you”’s against your skin

he released, giving one final thrust, burying himself deep inside you. his cock pulsing against your walls, pumping load after load of hot cum deep into your void. you melted into him at the sensation, the warmth of his seed was enough to send you over the edge with a pleasured cry, making a mess of his cock as wetness drenched your inner thighs.

he held you there for a moment, making sure that he had completely drained himself inside of you before letting you down easy. your thighs weak, having to stabilise yourself between the wall and his broad chest for a moment. dustin rested his forehead against yours, trying to regain his breathing.

“let’s do it then…” you panted breathlessly

“huh?” he questioned, mind still hazy from his orgasm.

“let’s go get married.” you smiled sweetly up at his. he reciprocated the action, mind still coming too with your words

“wait, seriously? like right now?”

“yes, right now! you said you couldn’t wait”

dustin cupped your cheeks once more, peppering sweet kisses to each high point of your face, tears of joy now evident in his eyes, he stared down at you with such unfiltered adoration. such love in its purest form.

“i love you so much, sweetheart. more than you’ll ever know”

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

[debbiechanclub]

» Back to all masterlists

Note: All works on this masterlist belong to and are written by me, debbiechanclub, and are not permitted to be reposted on any other website by anyone other than myself.

― One-Shots

AEW Brutalizer (Orange Cassidy x Reader) Cold Hands, Warm Heart (Kenny Omega x Reader) First Winter (Wheeler Yuta x OFC) Least Favorite Day of the Week (Wardlow x Reader) Mercury Retrograde (Trent x Reader) Personal Snow Globe (Brandon Cutler x OFC) So You’ve Chosen Death (Luchasaurus x Reader) Still with You (PAC x Reader) The Ghost of Christmas Present (Best Friends) The Worst Thing in the World (Matt Jackson x OFC) Worth Trying (Brandon Cutler x Reader) You’re Welcome (Wardlow x OFC)

WWE/NXT “Chipped Tooth” (Timothy Thatcher x OFC) “Or Something” (Pete Dunne x Reader)

― Headcanons

AEW Adam Page ⇁ One | Two | Three Best Friends  Chuck Taylor ⇁ One | Two Eddie Kingston Ethan Page Joey Janela Hook Matt Jackson  MJF ⇁ One | Two Orange Cassidy Wardlow

NJPW Bullet Club

WWE/NXT Pete Dunne Tyler Breeze

[legit9thlunaticwarrior]

I posted 4,756 times in 2022

That's 4,748 more posts than 2021!

1,162 posts created (24%)

3,594 posts reblogged (76%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@daddyhausen

@plentyoffandoms

@itjazzbicch

@faggotmox

@imswitchbabemox

I tagged 2,110 of my posts in 2022

#donna be talking - 388 posts

#the besties writing - 374 posts

#donna on raw - 139 posts

#donna is in love with wheeler yuta - 133 posts

#donna on dynamite - 117 posts

#donna doing ppvs - 112 posts

#donna is in love with wardlow - 110 posts

#donna answers - 102 posts

#donna is in love with chuck taylor - 77 posts

#donna is in love with bron breakker - 77 posts

Longest Tag: 89 characters

#he also seems to be the type that’s like gentleman in the streets and freak in the sheets

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

heres a timeline:

i found a comment on one of effy's posts that brody king was at a lady gaga concert

then i learned that he was a crew member for rupaul's drag race from seasons 7 to 12

THEN i learned that he still actively watches drag race and goes to drag shows with his wife

AND THEENN i found this;

this is brody king in a lipsync battle, performing lady gaga's bad romance

and thats what you missed on glee

184 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

#4

Hey bestie!!! 👋

Can we please be blessed with a Wardlow Smut based on Chains by Nick Jonas?

Maybe MJF had mentioned how "whipped" he his by his girlfriend and he laughs "You have no idea."

a day before the contract signing events; bestie sent me this. im going off what we talked abt in dms and using the lyrics to the song as dialogue (not exactly a songfic) also double gif bc this is my page. this whole segment gonna keep yall wardhoes fed for a while, mama’s gotchu. i tried to do a soft!dom but that idea fell apart faster than a dollar store dinner tray. can we also talk bout the vein in his neck in the gif below? lordt

|remember to leave feedback and i love all you heathens|

‘Chains’ 18+ Wardlow (Michael) x fem!reader

See the full post

187 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

#3

💛 Kenny Omega x Reader for snuggles?

our sweet nerd boy - yes i will

|remember to leave feedback and i love all you heathens|

‘I Love You More Than Video Games’ Kenny Omega (Tyson) x fem!reader

^reader is in dire need of cuddles and attention from her boyfriend.^

Y/N POV:

I watched him stare at the screen for what felt like an eternity. I walked into what he calls the ‘Nerd Cave’; one of the spare rooms we had that was decked out with posters, figures, props and all kinds of stuff from our favorite shows or films. It was a sweet thing he had come up with when we moved in together. I stood in the doorway for a while just admiring him. It’s always nice to see him in one of his elements: dressed comfy, sat in his gamer chair, glasses on, and playing video games; truly peaceful. Though I adore to see him like that, I was so desperate for his cuddles. One thing many don’t know about the great Kenny Omega is that he is a cuddle king! And I needed them BAD! I walked into the room carefully so I didn’t startle him. A habit we both adopted was not to scare each other when they had headphones on. I gently put my hands on his shoulders and leaned over the chair, kissing his cheek. He paused his game and lowered his headphones so they rested around his neck, “Hey honey. Wanna join?” he asked. “I actually was hoping for some cuddles. Pleaseee Ty?” He smiled and leaned his head to kiss my hand. “Aw, is someone deficient in Vitamin Me?” Another thing people don’t know is that he makes terrible but cute puns. “Let me finish this level, then you’ll get all the cuddles. Okay?” I nodded and went to the bedroom; knowing his skill, he’ll have the level beat in minutes.

After another half hour, I got annoyed. I went back to the Nerd Cave and noticed he’s started a new level. He must have heard me come in somehow and pulled his headphones down. “I’ll join you in a second baby.” I decided I had enough and turned the chair slightly, climbing into his lap and clinging onto him. “Now Tyson. If I don’t get snuggles in the next five minutes, I might die” I joked. He laughed, “We can’t have that now, can we?” he wrapped his arms around me and resumed his game, “You stay like that, I finish the level, then we go to bed and snuggle.” I smile into his chest, “Dobbie too?” I feel the vibrations from his chuckle, “Yes, babygirl, Dobbie too.” He kissed the top of my head and went back to his game. 

He was a man of his word and after this level, he took his headphones off and picked me up to go to the bedroom. Like the king he is, Dobbie was already on the bed. We settled in bed under the covers and I immediately laid my head on his chest, his arms wrapping around me tightly. Cuddles with Ty always boosted my mood. We didn’t have to talk, just our bodies close together. His hand went up to play with my hair until he tilted my head up to kiss my lips. “I’m glad you didn’t die. I do think you laying on me while I game is absolutely adorable and you should do it more often.” I couldn’t help the smile on my face, “Of course you do, dork.” “I’m serious! You close to me while I kick virtual ass? Makes it even better.” I roll my eyes playfully, “I’ll keep that in mind. I love you.” He kisses me again, letting the feel of his lips on mine linger for a moment, “I love you too.” I decided to poke fun at him: “More than video games?” “A billion times more than video games.”  From then on I made sure to sit in his lap while he gamed more often. It’s, how you say, ‘killing two birds with one stone’?

~~~~~~~

lovely taglist babes (dm or comment to be added) @josiewrites @rubyred1980

188 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

#2

Oh my God I found someone who writes for Brock omg I love you

Can I request something cute and fluffy with Brock please pretty please with she/her pronouns?

the level of excitement i have for this. i love brock now more than i did back in the day. face, cowboy brock is much more likable. funny joke abt me: my father fully believes paul heyman is his cousin, couldnt tell you why. 

|remember to leave feedback and i love all you heathens|

‘Beastly Little Beauty’ Brock Lesnar x fem!reader

^with paul playing special council to roman reigns and the usos, brock needed a new advocate. why not his fiance?^

- wanted to use a doja song for an entrance theme so here we are - best friend becky lynch - i like 3rd pov so im gonna use it more - im 5′4 in real life so thats the height im gonna use - i love roman and the usos but for this imma be shady, soorry - brock and reader have a baby boy named ethan, just let this happen

3rd Person POV:

Brock knew when he came back that Heyman wouldn’t turn his back on The Bloodline. An idea popped into his head but knew it could be risky: what if Y/N was his new advocate? She has everything. She is a wrestler, a professional on the mic, knows the business aspect of the game, and she’s feisty as all hell. She’s decorated in WWE as well; having held every belt in the women’s division at one point or another. When he brought it up to her, the gleam in her eye was untouchable. That settled it. They ran the proposal by all the higher ups and was approved immediately. The catch though: Heyman, Roman and the Usos were not to know. 

Friday rolled around fast and it was time for everything to be revealed. The Bloodline and their ‘Wise Man’ were already in the ring, spewing the usual. One of the backstage hands informed them Brock was on. The couple turned to each other, Y/N reached up to kiss him for luck even though she would be out shortly after. “I love you. Go get em, baby.” she told him. “I love you too sugar.” His music hit and he did his entrance as she watched on the screen in the gorilla, counting down until it was her turn.  “Now I know you are not gonna betray your Tribal Chump anytime soon, so I found someone else to be my advocate.” A second passed and ‘Boss Bitch’ by Doja Cat played as Y/N came out. She dressed in a black skirt, white blouse underneath a custom flannel with The Beast logo on the back with their son’s name above it, and some black heel boots. The cherry on top was her engagement ring shining in the colorful lights that were part of her entrance. She gave high fives to the little kids as she walked by, something that always brought a smile to his face. He held the middle rope down for her and she got in the ring, he handed her a microphone but Paul started talking before she could. “Well, if it isn’t the Beast’s Bitch? Shouldn’t you be home with that baby of yours?” As the crowd booed, Brock spit back “Unless you want a one way ticket to Suplex City, I suggest you watch your mouth when talking about Y/N or Ethan.” “Brock honey, I can handle this. Paul, I know you have never cared for me or our relationship, so I’m glad you’re now playing second; wait no no,” she pointed to count Jimmy and Jey, “fourth fiddle to Roman. Lord knows he needs a big mouth to go with his even bigger ego.” “Yo Uce, you gonna let her talk to you like that?” Jey said as he and his twin moved to stand in front of her, “Yeah, remember you’re in the presence of the Tribal Chief baby.” She rolled her eyes, “Really Roman? Can’t respond to me on your own so your little bitches have to bark for you?” One thing about Y/N is that she was not afraid to step up to the men, even facing off against some of them. “Y/N,” Roman started as he pushed his cousins behind him and got a little too close to the shorter woman in Brock’s opinion, “I’m not gonna talk bad about you or your son because I’m not that type of guy. What I will talk about is, you have amazing skills in this industry, so you coming out as the new advocate is crazy because it seems like you’re wasting your time and talent on this dumbass farm-” That was all it took for her to pounce on the man in front of her and unleash her own beast. The only defense Roman gave was trying to push her off until Brock picked his fiance up and took her out of the ring; leaving the other four men in the ring stunned as the WWE universe equally cheered and booed her. She grabbed a microphone from ringside and said one last thing, “We’ll see your asses at Crown Jewel.” Her music played as she and Brock went back to their locker room.

When they entered the locker room, Becky got up with Ethan. “I guess we can call you ‘Big Time Y/N’ after that take down, huh?” The couple was grateful for Becky watching Ethan but they needed some time to regroup. “Thanks Becks. And thank you for watching him.” the woman said as she took the toddler in her arms. “Anytime, sweetie.” the redhead left and it grew silent. “I know you probably aren’t happy with me.” she started. “Sugar what are you talking about? That had to be one of the greatest things I have ever seen you do.” He walked over to the woman he already called his wife and held the child that was the spitting image of him. “Ethan, aren’t you proud of Momma? She took down a champion in our honor.” He babbled as he was about to start the talking stage at a little over a year old. “Well I can’t let it slide when someone talks about my two favorite cowboys. Don’t worry baby; Daddy will come home with that title soon enough.” The boy in Brock’s arms reached for his mother and surprised them both, “Momma.” They looked at each other in shock and excitement. “Eef, say that again. Who’s that?” he pointed to the child’s mother. “Momma!” “You said your first word! Ethan, we’re so proud of you!” Y/N exclaimed as she kissed the baby’s little cheeks. She pulled her soon-to-be husband down to kiss him, and tell them both over and over how much she loves them; the expressions being returned as well. Their little family had some major moments that night: Y/N returned, Brock is going for the Universal Championship title, and most importantly Ethan saying his first word. There was so much love in the atmosphere of that room that they forgot about the scuffle out in the ring from before. Truthfully? Neither of them cared. This moment with the three of them was the only thing that mattered.

~~~~~~~

lovely taglist babes (dm or comment to be added) @josiewrites @rubyred1980 @chrisdickinson @xkennyxomegax

195 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i think they should extend the rule of “you take a luchador’s mask off, you get disqualified” to america

295 notes - Posted July 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[wweallresultspage]

AEW x NJPW Forbidden Door PPV Results - June 25, 2023

Pre-show: Bishop Kaun, Brian Cage, Swerve Strickland, & Toa Liona def. Chuck Taylor, El Desperado, Rocky Romero, & Trent Beretta in 12:23

Pre-show: Athena def. Billie Starkz in the quarterfinals of the 2023 Owen Hart Foundation Women's Tournament in 7:50

Pre-show: El Phantasmo def. Stu Grayson in 7:14

Pre-show: BUSHI, Hiromu Takahashi, & Shingo Takagi def. Jeff Cobb, Kyle Fletcher, & TJP in 7:30

1. MJF def. Hiroshi Tanahashi in 15:30 to retain the AEW World Championship

2. CM Punk def. Satoshi Kojima in the quarterfinals of the 2023 Owen Hart Foundation Men's Tournament in 13:40

3. Orange Cassidy def. Daniel Garcia, Katsuyori Shibata, and Zack Sabre Jr. in a 4-Way Match in 11:15 to retain the AEW International Championship

4. SANADA def. Jack Perry in 10:45 to retain the IWGP World Heavyweight Championship

5. Adam Page, Eddie Kingston, Matt Jackson, Nick Jackson, & Tomohiro Ishii def. Claudio Castagnoli, Jon Moxley, Konosuke Takeshita, Shota Umino, & Wheeler Yuta in 21:25

6. Toni Storm def. Willow Nightingale in 10:30 to retain the AEW Women's World Championship

7. Will Ospreay def. Kenny Omega in 39:45 to win the IWGP United States Heavyweight Championship

8. Darby Allin, Sting, & Tetsuya Naito def. Chris Jericho, Minoru Suzuki, & Sammy Guevara in 15:10

9. Bryan Danielson def. Kazuchika Okada in 27:40

[cutierocker202]

*debby ryan smirks* Hey Orange Cassidy, you look extra good tonight.

Yuta and Chuck also looking good and cute but orange tho 🥵

[piratewithvigor]

WRESTLING VIDEOS MASTERLIST (AEW)

SINGLE WRESTLERS

Bryan Danielson - Monty Python's Life Of Bryan

Chris Jericho - The 13 Stages Of Grief With Y2J

CM Punk - ATOMIC CM PUNK

Danhausen - Danhausen In Exactly As Much Context As He Requires

Danhausen - Feed My Evilhausen

“Hangman” Adam Page -  Don’t Be So Hard On Yourself

"Hangman" Adam Page - Country Girl 🤠

"Hangman" Adam Page - La Folie Temporaire

Jack Perry - Jungle Boy - I Wanna Be Evil

Jon Moxley - Livewire

Marko Stunt - The Very Best

Marq Lynch - Hurt

MJF - Everybody Loves Me ;3

MJF - blah blah blah...

MJF - The Biggest Balls Of Them All

MJF - Long Island V Connecticut

MJF - MJF Being Completely Insufferable Part 1: Jul-Nov 2019

MJF - MJF Being Completely Insufferable Part 2: Nov 2019-Jan 2020

MJF - MJF Being Completely Insufferable Part 3: Jan-March 2020

MJF - MJF Being Completely Insufferable Part 4: April - August 2020

MJF - S&M(JF)

Nick Jackson - Magic Girl

Orange Cassidy -  BASIC 🍊🕶️NOMICS

Pac - If Weird Al Did Pac's Theme

Sting - What Goes On In Surfer Sting's Head

Wheeler Yuta - Yu Make My Dreams Come True 💕

William Regal - Sharp Dressed Man’s Man

William Regal - Ra Ra Regal

William Regal - What A Lucky Man (He Was)

GANGS/MORE THAN ONE

Gunn Club Assboys - Billy Ass And The Assboys

Blackpool Combat Club - BCC Golden Girls

Dustin Rhodes VS Willie Mack - Kissin Willie

Eddie Kingston & CM Punk - WRESTLING SILENT FILMS: Was The Truth Too Much For CM Punk To Handle When Kingston Put Him On Blast?

The Elite - When I See You Dance With Another

The Elite - Best 15 Seconds Of Each BTE (1-23)

The Elite - Runnin On Empty

The Elite - What If Carly Rae Jepsen Sang Like 4 Middle Aged Men Having A Sexually Charged Karaoke Battle On A Japanese Train?

"Hangman" Adam Page VS Lance Archer - Blood In The Texas Death Match

The Hardys - The Hardy Show: Rednecks On The Loose

House Of Black - Du Rieschst So Gut~

Jurassic Express - KINGS OF THE JUNGLE

Jurassic Express - Happier Days

Pinnacle & Inner Circle - Pinnacle VS. Inner Circle: Ballroom Fucking Blitz

The Hardys VS Private Party - Poor Bones

Young Bucks VS Lucha Bros - The Match, But As Clowns

AEW Moments That Have Probably Changed Me As A Person

Ranking Hey!(EW) Guests Based On How Angry They Get Being There

Once In A Lifetime: An AEW Retrospective

Oh, You Missed The First 3 Years Of AEW? Let Me Catch You Up Real Quick

SHIPS

Hookhausen (Hook X Danhausen) - curses~

William Regal X Tony Schiavone - Out Of Touch Thursday

Hangmox (Hangman X Mox) - ⛓️HANGMOX: THE CHAIN⛓️

AdaMJF (Adam Cole X MJF) - You're My Best Friend

Chuck Taylor X Orange Cassidy - I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire

AEW OPENINGS REDONE

What if Dynamite was 2004 Raw?

What if Collision was 2009 Hockey Night In Canada?

[ghostficwriter]

Spilled Blood; Spilled Feelings

Pairing / Form: Wheeler Yuta x Backstage Medical Staff!Reader / Oneshot Genre: Misc Warnings: Blood, bleeding, discussion of blading (the professional wrestling technique), panic attack, anxiety, wounds Word Count: 2,719 Characters: Wheeler Yuta, William Regal, Jon Moxley, Bryan Danielson, with brief appearances by Chuck Taylor and Orange Cassidy, because Yuta has alot of dads. Plot: It’s always somewhat nerve-wracking when a wrestler is scheduled to blade, but for some reason, Wheeler Yuta is different. For some reason, you can’t stop thinking about it - about him. What could it be?

You remembered the first time he came to the back, right after his first TV match. He didn’t really need medical attention, but Chuck Taylor and Orange Cassidy dragged him in, worrying over him like mother hens. 

It was sweet, the way they looked after him. And he was sweet too, in his awkward and charming way. Many wrestlers were so used to their bodies being on display that your touch and attention bothered them very little. But Yuta always seemed to get shy; he averted his eyes whenever you touched him to check for damage or to apply some cream or bandage or such. Perhaps he was squeamish? That was certainly nothing to be ashamed of.

Of course, if he was squeamish, that would be an issue tonight, since he was scheduled to blade in his match with Jon Moxley.

Last week, he, Mox, Bryan Danielson, Chuck, and Cassidy had all squeezed into your designated corner of the medical staff’s room to prepare him. It wasn’t the first time you’d gone over the process with a wrestler, but was the first time you’d had such an audience.

“Now, the first step, of course, is to make the blade,” you held up an example. “You’re going to cut it - carefully - so there’s one small, sharp point. I know it’s probably part of the craft and the moment to make your own, but I highly recommend you let me do it-”

“All due respect, ‘doc, but a man’s gotta forge his own weapon, especially when he’s turnin’ it on himself” Mox spoke as he leaned against a counter. 

You looked to Yuta, who nodded, before responding.  “I understand. I just ask that you show it to me before the match so I can check it. I can make sure it’s both safer and more effective.”

Yuta nodded again but didn’t speak. He knew Chuck and Cassidy well by this point, but it must have been intimidating to be working with Mox and Danielson.

“You’re also going to want to have a spare. I’m sure these gentlemen can show you how to wrap them into your wrist tape. For the blading itself, there’s two main methods: twisting and slicing. Twisting means less scars, less stitches, and a much easier patching up. Slicing means more scarring, more stitches, and me wrapping up your head, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.” You shot a pointed look at Danielson, who held his hands up with a good-natured grin.

“New dogs may be able to learn old tricks, but old habits still die hard.”

“This is true,” you turned your attention back to Yuta, “so start building a good habit - if you’re going to blade, twist, don’t slice.” You held up your example blade again; it was intentionally dulled so you could demonstrate. “Like this,” you didn’t notice the horror in Yuta’s eyes as you lifted the razor to your head, but everyone heard his yelp of surprise as you twisted it and his soft “ah” when no blood came out.

“Sorry, I should have shown you it was dull first!” you exclaimed as Mox and Chuck slapped Yuta on the back and grinned teasingly.

“N-no, it’s fine, I’m sorry.” Yuta’s face was beet red. Ah, he must have been embarrassed about his outburst - was he going to be able to handle the match?

“It’s alright. Although…if you’re feeling squeamish about it, I’m sure the match could still be successful without you blading.” Your voice was kind, non-judgemental. The last thing you wanted was to make him feel condescended to.

“S’not the blood he’s nervous about.” Mox knocked his shoulder against Yuta’s, “Right kid?”

“N-no.” Yuta’s face was even redder now. You didn’t want to embarrass him any further, so you let it go. 

“Then all that’s left is what to do with the razor afterwards. Some people slip them into their waistband, some people hand them off to the ref - decide what makes sense to you. But if you pull a Shawn Michaels and put it in your mouth, I will personally ensure that you never participate in a match with blood ever again on AEW programming and I will yell at you the entire time I bandage you up.”

Yuta nodded again, looking meek this time.

You smiled, wanting to put him at ease. “And after the match, I’m sure there'll be a couple backstage photos, but you make your way right here as soon as possible. Understood?”

He nodded again.

“Good. And Mr. Moxley, I expect you to hold him to that - don’t let him get lost in the after-match rush. Bring him right here.”

“Of course, ‘doc.” Mox grinned, and Danielseon nodded along.

“Well, I’ve lectured you long enough. Good luck, Yuta - let me know if you have any questions.”

You’d smiled as they all left your space to Chuck chanting “Baby’s first blading! Baby’s first blading!” But for some reason your stomach was churning. You always got a bit nervous when a wrestler was booked to blade, it was dangerous after all, but you usually didn’t feel that worry until you were watching the match on the monitors. 

Why was this different?

***

On the night of the match itself, you still had an unsettling, unfamiliar unease. Even as you checked and double checked your supplies, even as you helped Anna Jay stretch out her shoulder, even as you met with the rest of the medical team, Wheeler Yuta was at the back of your mind.

There was no reason you could think of to be extra nervous. You’d gone over the process with him, he was a professional, he was working with one of the best hardcore werstlers in the business, and you had everything ready - a couple blades in case he changed his mind about making his own, bandages, disinfectant, and the juice and snack that were the standard after blood loss.

You chuckled at the memories of older wrestlers sitting in medical with their juice boxes and crackers or cookies - Bryan Danielson, CM Punk, and even Mr. Jon Moxley himself. You took a certain pride in always being able to get the performers to sit down and sip their juice and eat their snack - no matter how “hardcore” they were. The newer wrestlers followed their example, which made everything easier.

“Uh, hey.” Yuta’s quiet greeting pulled you out of your thoughts and brought a small smile to your face.

“Good evening. Are you ready for your match?”

Yuta scratched at his neck. “Yeah, and I, uh, brought these.” He held up two blades, their sharp points glinting.

You waved him over and took both blades from his hand, holding it up to the light, checking for any nicks, making sure it was a straight point. “Perfect.”

You offered a reassuring smile as you carefully pressed them back into his hands, covering them with your own. “Be careful out there, okay?” It didn’t come out how it usually did. With the vets, like Mox and Bryan, it was chiding and somewhat playful. With the rookies like Britt and JB, it was more reassuring. But with Yuta it was almost desperate, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. You didn’t notice Yuta’s face getting red again, his heartbeat speeding up at your hands on his, his eyes looking anywhere but at you.

“I-I will. I promise.” He squeezed your hands and once again brought you back into the present. 

“Are you nervous?” You were still holding onto his hands, why were you still holding onto his hands?

“Honestly?” He swallowed. “There's a part of me that’s terrified. Not of the blood, exactly, but just - I want it to be perfect, you know? But I’m also excited, and I think it’s all kind of mixing up in my head.”

This time, you gave the reassuring squeeze. “Sounds perfectly normal to me.” You looked down for a moment, unsure why you felt a little out of breath. “You’re going to do great. You’re going to blow them away.”

The smile that appeared on his face was warm, spreading like a sunflower to greet the morning light. But before he could reply, a gruff voice startled your hands out of his.

“Hey, kid, production crew’s got a few questions before the show starts.”

Yuta nodded, but he looked…disappointed? He nodded to you again and shuffled out with Moxley.

Beyond your sphere of hearing, the older wrestler nudged Yuta with his shoulder, “Looks like you two were having a moment there, you finally tell her?” 

Yuta sighed, “No, not yet.”

Mox chuckled, “Ah, young love.”

Yuta rolled his eyes.

“Don’t wait too long kid. Don’t wanna miss out.”

***

You usually paid close attention to bloody matches, both as a wrestling fan but also out of a desire to analyze as much about the damage being done as you could. But you found yourself transfixed in an entirely different way during Yuta and Mox’s brawl. 

It started out fine; you were able to swallow the mysterious dread in your stomach and enjoy the performance. But once Yuta’s blood began to flow, you froze, unable to look away, unable to think, your breaths becoming shallow. 

Terror. Utter terror, consuming worry, overpowering concern for that man’s safety.

Your usually calculating, medical expression having given way to panic did not go unnoticed.

“Are you alright, dear?” William Regal’s unmistakable voice was soft, careful, as if approaching a wounded animal. He’d held his hand up when Bryan had tried to follow him to your side, not wanting to overwhelm you.

You turned to him, your eyes wide and your tongue frozen, only able to sputter out the beginnings of a sentence: “I-I don’t-I-”

“Shh, shh, no words yet, dove, just breathe.” Regals’ speech was firm but kind. “Focus here,” he pointed at his eyes, “and breathe with me. Here we go - in,” he breathed deeply through his nose, “and out.”

You followed his lead, your breath falling into a rhythm. 

“Yes, just like that, dove, keep breathing.” 

Your world narrowed to just his eyes, his voice, and your breathing. And slowly, but surely, you stopped shaking.

“Better, dove?”

You nodded, not yet ready to speak. 

“Good. Now, Mr. Danielson and Mr. Moxley have told me that you are very good at your job. All of the performers here at AEW trust you to do what you know well. So, dove, you need to trust them back. Young Yuta is good, great even, at what he does. So trust him to do it safely.”

“Thank you. For helping me breathe, and for that. I’m usually not this emotional about matches. I don’t know what came over me…”

Regal placed a hand on your shoulder, “Really? It seems you’re even more oblivious than our Yuta, then.”

“What do you -”

Regal didn’t let you finish, “Now, now dove, that’s a question for the young lad himself. Right now though, I think you should watch him work and think about it. I’ll make sure he gets straight back to you when the match is finished.”

And before you could reply, he’d stepped away and you were alone again in front of the monitor. 

Yuta was still bleeding, and it was still unsettling, but the look in his eyes wasn’t fearful, it was defiant. It was bold, it was confident. Your world narrowed again, but this time your focus was the fire in his eyes, the scowl formed by his lips, the war cries bellowed from his mouth. Your stomach was churning again but not with fear. And when the match ended, he stood proud - beaten - but proud and strong. 

Mr. Regal kept to his word and brought Yuta straight back to your station with Mox, who was grinning with pride. “Alright, Moxley, the lad’s in good hands now,” the older man sent you a wink.

You nodded in response, already pulling gloves onto your freshly washed hands and approaching your charge, looking at him for permission before touching him. But where he would normally nod and avoid your eyes, this time he was staring into them. It felt like he could see right through them, see what lay beneath. You had to break away to examine his head, but you could feel him watching you still. 

He winced slightly when your fingers grazed over the wound, but remained quiet. Now you were avoiding his eyes; they burned into you as you carefully, gently wiped the blood from his face, the cloth in your hand turning red. “A perfectly fixable cut.” Your voice was quiet, “this will string a little.” You dabbed at the blood and murmured reassuringly as you applied the antiseptic and affixed the bandaging. Now to make sure there was nothing else to tend to. “I’m going to check over-” 

You were cut off not by a sound, but by the way his eyes still focused on you, on yours. 

It was a look of confidence, of interest, and as you finally let yourself gaze back, there was also fondness. His gaze softened and a small smile started to curve at his lips.

Your heart was growing louder with each beat, and he just kept looking, looking at you as if you were to be treasured. And, as the moment wore on (Was it an hour? Was it seconds?), concern entered his gaze.

His voice was soft when he broke the silence, “Regal told me you panicked during the match.”

You swallowed thickly, “Y-yes. I’m sorry, it was unprofessional-”

This time it was his hand coming to rest on yours that stopped you. “I’m not mad at you, I’m…worried about you. Are you okay?”

“I think that’s my line,” you grimaced, gesturing at the blood still staining his chest and arms.

He laughed, and without realizing it, you leaned slightly forward, drawn towards the warm sound.

“I’m sure I’ll be as good as new with you looking after me.” His smirk returned before he finally broke eye contact, the nervous Yuta you were used to making an appearance. “You know, the other day, Mox was telling me that some wrestlers have signals they do to let the people they care about know they’re okay. Like, little things that most people wouldn’t notice.”

“People they care about?” There’s your racing heart again.

Yuta huffed out a nervous laugh, “I usually don’t get all flustered when someone’s bandaging me up. And I don’t usually look forward to getting checked over after matches.” He looked at you.

“And I don’t usually panic about patients bleeding…or feel like my heart's going to burst out of my chest when they look at me.”

The smile on his face couldn’t have been bigger, couldn’t have been brighter. You fought the embarrassed urge to look way - missing this would be a crime. So instead you spoke again. “I’m still going to make you eat them, but I’m guessing after that match, you’re going to need more than just juice and crackers. And, um, I was too nervous to eat dinner so, maybe we could…” you trailed off, still nervous. What if you were jumping to conclu-

But Yuta was still smiling and interrupted your doubts before the thought could finish: “Only if it’s a date.”

You laughed, feeling the tension draining from your muscles, butterflies flitting in to take its place. “Of course.”

You were wrong before - Yuta could smile even harder. He hopped up from the cot he was perched on and slipped his fingers over yours, looking around to be sure you were alone before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. 

Both you and Yuta were too wrapped up in the moment to notice the members of his new faction hovering around in the hall.

William Regal smiled in satisfaction as both Mox and Bryan fished cash out of their pockets. “Spilled blood can lead to spilled feelings, boys. Never bet against an old man.” 

“Would have been another week if he didn’t bleed like a -”

“Now, now, Moxley,” Regal chided, “What’s done is done.”

Bryan laughed, “He’s just hiding how giddy he is about it finally happening.”

And so, the three veterans looked on (with varying levels of obviousness in their fondness) as Yuta held your face in his hands, gently, tenderly, gazing at you like you were the sun, the stars, the galaxy.

[kamabrahr]

Writing Requests open!

Kieran here, ready to polish their English skills with some drabbles, headcanons, oneshots, and anything your heart desires as long as they follow the rules!

I currently am mainly into the wrestling fandom, so here’s the list!

Wrestlers I can certainly write for

Male:

Adam Cole

Bray Wyatt

Chris Jericho

Christian Cage

Chuck Taylor

CM Punk

Cody Rhodes

Darby Allin

Dean Ambrose  (I consider him a COMPLETELY different entity from Jon Moxley...sue me.)

Drew McIntyre

Eddie Kingston

Edge

Jeff Hardy

Johnny Gargano

Jon Moxley

Jungle Boy

Kane

Lance Archer

Luchasaurus

Malakai Black

Marko Stunt

Matt Jackson

MJF

Mustafa Ali

Nick Jackson

Orange Cassidy

Ortiz

PAC

Randy Orton

Roman Reigns

Sammy Guevara

Seth Rollins

Shawn Michaels

Sting

Tony Khan (*cough*)

Trent? (?)

Triple H

Undertaker

Wardlow

Wheeler Yuta

Female:

Abadon

AJ Lee

Alexa Bliss

Anna Jay

Asuka

Bayley

Becky Lynch

Bianca Belair

Britt Baker

Dakota Kai

Hikaru Shida

Io Shirai

Jamie Hayter

Kris Statlander

Lita

Liv Morgan

Maki Itoh

Naomi

Natalya

Nikki A.S.H.

Penelope Ford

Rhea Ripley

Ruby Riott

Sasha Banks

Shayna Baszler

Stephanie McMahon

Tay Conti

Thunder Rosa

If they’re not on this list, you are totally always welcome to ask if I can write for them, and maybe I can, depending on how much creative juice I have in me!

And here are the rules to getting that content:

 Send an ask, if you’re not sure on what you want, then you are always welcome to DM me.

Specify what you want (headcanons, drabble, oneshot) with which wrestler(s), and whether it’s fluff, angst, comfort, NSFW, or others (throw me an AU and I might just grab it!). If it’s something more complicated, I will go over to your DMs and ask you for more specifications. If you don’t specify anything, it’s free real estate for me, and you’re going to have to see what you get on my Russian Roulette for you.

Specify the kinks if there are any. If it’s a no-no kink for me or a kink I’m not used to, then I will go over to your DMs if you’re not on anon to talk it out, see what we can do, and if it’s anon I unfortunately might just have to chop you off the board, I apologize.

You can also specify on certain things like genders, petite, plus-sizes, some illnesses or physical conditions like a person with vitiligo, scoliosis, an amputee, etc., but please don’t go super specific on appearances like blue eyes, brown curly hair or the likes. I might write a wrestler x wrestler or a wrestler x OC for you if you really want it and I’m in the right mindset, but beware, the writing is in my hands and you might not get exactly 100% of what you want.

Please be patient! I’m a kindergarten teacher with loads of work in my hands and some very fussy parents to handle with on the daily (the children are great, the parents...eh), so I’ll get to you, I promise, it might take some time!

With that all said, send ‘em over!

- Kieran

[shootingst4rpress]

your wrasslin' reblogs are succeeding in intriguing me! a cursory search tells me that professional wrestling is mostly performance, alongside some storylines, but would you offer an idea of what said script(s) would even be about, in the case it's more than just who-wins-over-who? (and in case this question doesn't make sense, feel free to just ramble on what you like abt it?)

yeah! wrestling is very interesting in that it's mostly performance, with very talented people playing characters (some of whom are more gimmicky/comedy, some of whom are very much acts, and some of whom aren't that much different to themselves outside the ring) while still doing insane stuff in the ring! the kinda, suspension of reality that you have to engage with when you watch wrestling is called kayfabe, which is basically presenting staged events as real! you'll also hear things called 'worked' (i.e. fake, within kayfabe) or wrestlers be referred to as 'good/bad/(adjective) workers' (talking about their skill at kayfabe.)

gonna put this under a readmore bc it got long

i watch AEW, which is one of like, many wrestling companies in america—i like them because they're big enough to do really cool stuff, and they aren't WWE cos fuck WWE. as for plotlines, you do get ones where it's like 'x wrestler is trying to be the best', which is what thunder rosa is doing right now in women's wrestling, and i support and love her sooooo much. but there's a lot of really interesting feuds, rivalries, factions, etc... so i'll talk about two that are happening in mens wrestling rn, because i'm VERY BEHIND in womens wrestling. and i must amend this instantly.

first off, CM Punk and MJF! you've probably seen me post about this one a lot. it's the two sweaty guys making each other bleed a lot from the forehead. the plotline goes thusly:

cm punk (hereon referred to as punk) is a very famous wrestler who had a long stint on WWE before leaving the company and wrestling as a whole for 7 years

MJF (maxwell jacob friedman) watched punk when he was growing up (he's 26, punk is 42) and saw punk leaving wwe due to personal reasons and mistreatment from higherups as a betrayal and abandonment of his fans

punk came back to AEW after his 7 year hiatus. MJF went to meet him, punk brushed him off.

mjf gets mad, and they have their first fight in punk's hometown, mjf wearing a t-shirt with a photo of 13 year old MJF meeting punk at a meet and greet. which gets covered in blood. MJF wins and proclaims he's the best in the world (because that's what punks old tagline was)

their next fight is a dog collar match, where they're both wearing dog collars chained together and its fucking BRUTAL and i love it. that's the match im constantly RB'ing. extremely homoerotic extremely violent extremely psychosexual

at the end of that fight, when they're both lying on the floor from exhaustion, MJF calls for his sidekick, wardlow, to bring him the ring (a physical finger ring) that he uses for his finishing punch. wardlow instead leaves it on the floor by punk, who uses it to land the finishing blow on MJF and end the match

where we're at currently is MJF has now kicked wardlow out of his inner circle of the best wrestlers on AEW, and i believe wardlow has effectively turned face? (a heel being an 'evil' wrestler, a face or babyface being a 'good' wrestler—MJF is a heel, punk is a face)

TL;DR, young wrestler felt betrayed by his idol who abandoned wrestling, feels the need to prove he's better than is idol. its psychosexual

and uuuuh the best friends plotline!

the best friends are a tag team with trent baretta and chuck taylor, but also more generally a faction including kris statlander (cool alien girl), orange cassidy (funny little denim guy) and our main man wheeler 'yoots' yuta

wheeler yuta joined the best friends when trent left due to an injury, and now trent is back, there's a lot of friction

a bit ago, william regal, a strange british man who runs the tag team blackpool combat club, offered to let wheeler yuta into their faction if he could prove himself

best friends are obviously quite sad about this

jon moxley, one of bcc, beats yuta, but yuta does INCREDIBLY WELL in that fight and william regal offers him a place in bcc, leaving the best friends

and we'll see what happens next!

so there's two current plots, but they're absolutely not everything that's going on on AEW rn, just a taster for the kind of stuff there is >:) wrasslin good wrasslin fun

[elitehunter]

Drabbles (250-500 words)

Malakai Black

“If that makes me a child, so be it.” [x]

“Do you ever stop smiling?” [x]

Trent Berreta

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…” [x]

Christian Cage

“Be you. No one else can.” [x]

“This is a one time thing.” [x]

Jade Cargill

 “Oh honey, I’d never be jealous of you.” [x]

Orange Cassidy

“Why can’t you appreciate my sense of humor?” [x]

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.” [x]

Alex Coughlin

Author free-write [x]

David Finlay

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” [x]

Maxwell Jacob Friedman

“I didn’t think you could get any less romantic…" [x]

Daniel Garcia

“I’m not weird, you’re just basic.” [x]

“You did all of this for me?” [x]

Jamie Hayter 

“I think you forgot who wears the pants in this relationship” [x]

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” [x]

Brody King

“Is that what you call an apology?” [x]

Eddie Kingston

“You’re not interested, are you?” [x]

“I’d kill for a coffee…literally.” [x]

“Just sleep with one eye open, that’s all I’m saying” [x]

Matt Jackson

“Enough with the sass” [x]

“Why’s there a pregnancy test in the trash?” [x]

“He’s dead, again” [x]

Nick Jackson

“The diamond in your engagement ring is fake.” [x]

“If I trip over one more of your shoes, I’m throwing them all away” [x]

“Are you just quoting song lyrics?” [x]

Angel Ortiz

“That SOOO classifies as a date.” [x]

“I don’t hate you” [x]

Jeff/Angelo Parker

“Enough with the sass" [x]

“What’s the biggest lie you ever told?” [x]

“In my defense, I really wanted to” [x]

Hangman Adam Page

“How could I ever forget about you?” [x]

“I had a dream about you.” [x]

“I’ll spend a thousand lifetimes coming back to you.” [x]

CM Punk

“Take your shirt off” [x]

Hook/Tyler Senerchia

“Are you going to talk to me?” [x]

Scorpio Sky

“Oh, what a shocker, you have an excuse.“ [x]

Shawn Spears

“Sit still, for the love of all that is Holy.” [x]

“I think I might be in some kind of love with you” [x]

Ricky Starks

“You know when your phone buzzes, it means I’m trying to talk to you, right?” [x]

 "You don’t hate me, quit lying to yourself.“ [x]

“You’re so fucking cute.” [x]

Chuck Taylor

“Don’t you ever do that again!” [x]

El Phantasmo/Riley Vigier

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” [x]

Cash Wheeler

“No. Regrets” [x]

Pick up lines only work when I’m drunk” [x]

“It could be worse.” [x]

Jay White 

“I hope I’m never stuck with you on a deserted island.” [x]

“Stop being a fucking prick” [x]

Wheeler Yuta

 “I never liked it, I lied.” [x]

[legit9thlunaticwarrior]

Hi!! Thought I’d drop a request in for an Orange Cassidy fluffy one shot :) Maybe a revealing of feelings type of deal.

Please and thank you!

glad to contribute to OC tags on here

|remember to leave feedback and i love all you heathens|

‘I Am A Little Thirsty’ Orange Cassidy (James) x fem!reader

^they say your best friends know when you are in love. this was no different; kris and donovan help the reader finally tell james how she feels^

- appearances by- danhausen (donovan) i nickname him DD, wheeler yuta (james yuta) for the sake of funky nicknames he is yuta, chuck taylor (dustin) - i make a weird amount of juice/orange jokes - Y/N/N : your nickname, Y/L/N : your last name

Y/N POV:

Though I wasn’t in it, I was pretty much friends with everyone in Best Friends. I was close to Donovan and Kris the most. Them both being like my siblings I told almost everything too. I was helping Donovan with his makeup as usual when he asked me, “Sooo you and James huh?” I stopped myself just in time before I poked his eye out from being caught off guard. I felt the nerves creeping up, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, DD.” He scoffed at my lie. “Don’t try it Y/N/N. We all know you’re into each other.” Just then Kris came into the locker room. “Why does Y/N look like she’s seen a ghost?” Kris questioned. “Kris, please tell our friend here how obvious it is that her and James are in love with each other?” She came over and sat on the vanity, “We knew you liked him BEFORE you told us.” I rolled my eyes and went back to doing DD’s makeup, “Yeah, well that’s me. What makes you two think the feeling is mutual?” DD spoke up, “Because he asks about and for you a lot, his comments on your social media, the way he looks at you, and he wants you in Best Friends; presumably to be with you more often.” Kris cut in, “You two act like a couple already. Sitting in his lap, your head on his shoulder with his arm around you for car rides, you wear each other’s merch more than anyone else and you’re the only person he lets wear that denim jacket. Not to mention your name in his contacts: ‘main squeeze <3’” There was no chance in hell I could hide the blushing. I had always felt like he was responding to my flirting but I thought he was just being nice. The confirmation from two people I know would never lie to me made everything fall into perspective. As I finish up the signature Danhausen makeup, I knew I had made up my mind: “After the show, I’m talking to him. Neither of us have matches so I can focus on what I want to say.” The two looked at each other with equal amounts of shock and excitement. We continued talking until it was showtime. I got to stay back and wander since I wasn’t on the card tonight. I had met up in catering with my other favorite James, though I just call him Yuta and he calls me by my last name. “Hey, Y/L/N! No match tonight?” he asked. I shook my head, “Nope, so I get a gentle night on my body.” “Well I hope I’ll make good company.” I put my hand on my chin in fake thought, “Hmm I don’t know. Maybe I should go find Dustin.” He puts his hand on his heart in fake hurt. I nudged his shoulder, “I’m kidding, Yuta. You know I like you more.”

Yuta and I talked for a while until I felt a tap on my shoulder and noticed a knowing smirk on Yuta’s face. I turned around to see James standing there, looking rather nervous. “Hey Y/N, can we go for a walk? I wanna talk to you about something.” I turn back to Yuta for a hug and he whispers in my ear, “This is your shot.” I completely ignore the fact that it seemed that everyone knew about my little crush due to my nerves spiking. I turned back to James and he led me out of catering and out of the arena completely. He was dressed normally: merch shirt, jeans, denim jacket, and sneakers. The only thing missing was the sunglasses, giving me the chance to look at his oh so beautiful eyes. We had stopped walking and he turned me to look at him. “You look really pretty tonight.” I blushed, “You don’t look too bad yourself. So, what did you want to talk about?” I saw his demeanor change from cool and confident to nervous and jittery. “Yes, right, uh,” he took my hands in his and looked at me “Y/N, I really like you. Since you came to AEW and I saw you for the first time, I fell in love. When you made friends with everyone in Best Friends, I was so excited because it meant I could be close to you, I even talked to them about getting you to join so I could be even closer to you.” I took in what he was saying and I felt butterflies. He does feel the same! I’m hearing the words come out of his mouth! “James, I was going to talk to you about the same exact thing later tonight.” He looks at me confused, “What do you mean?” I smiled and put my hand on his cheek. “I was going to tell you how I feel. I’m in love with you too. I thought you would flirt back to be nice. Kris and Donovan told me you liked me too but hearing it for myself confirms everything.” I feel his forming smile under my hand. “I know this isn’t the most elegant way of saying this but will you be my girlfriend?” I nodded, “Yes James. I would love to.” He put his hands on my cheeks gently, “Would it be too forward to ask if I could kiss you?” “Well I am a little thirsty.” The laugh he let out was music to my ears. “You did not just say that.” I smirked, “And what if I did? Are you gonna quench that thirst or not?” He leaned down and kissed me deeply. It felt like the world stopped and everything made sense. When we finally pulled away, he looked into my eyes, “I love you, my main squeeze.” “I love you too.” He saw me shiver and took his jacket off for me to wear. “Maybe I should get you a matching one?” I cozy up in it as if it was the first time, “Or I can keep stealing this one?” He rolled his eyes and smiled.

We went back into the building hand in hand. When we got back to catering, the heads of all our friends turned to look at us. “Well it’s about damn time!” Kris said first. James wrapped his arm around me from the side as we went over to them. “Now there’s a reason she’s the only one to wear that jacket besides him.” Yuta added. 

When it was time to go back to the hotel, I left with James and the smile never left my face. Leaving the arena as the luckiest girl in the world to have a freshly squeezed boyfriend after all the mutual flirting and nervous confessions. 

~~~~~~~

lovely taglist babes (dm or comment to be added) @josiewrites @rubyred1980 @chrisdickinson

[dunkzillla]

New Tricks for an Old Dog (10/10)

William Regal x Wheeler Yuta, Chuck Taylor x Wheeler Yuta

We made it! We’re at the end. I want to thank everyone for reading and continuing to even though I disappeared for like three months! It’s a long one, so grab your popcorn and I hope that I do you justice with the end and that you enjoy it!

Title: New Tricks for an Old Dog

Pairings: William Regal/Wheeler Yuta, Chuck Taylor/Wheeler Yuta, Bryan Danielson/Daniel Garcia

Ratings/Warnings: Language, Eating Disorders/Disordered Eating.

Words: 7,864

Summary: Wheeler doesn’t need to count the days anymore.

Parts: ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN | EIGHT | NINE

Wheeler wakes up the same way he has since he came home from the hospital, warm, with his face pressed against an equally warm, slightly fuzzy chest, and strong arms holding him in place. He hasn’t been counting the days since then, he no longer feels the need to count how long he’s been anywhere, because he’s not waiting for the end or a new beginning. This is it, now, this is home. It’s been quite a while, the amount of months definitely in double digits, but Wheeler’s never felt as happy as this before.

He pushes himself up, detangling himself so gently from Regal’s arms so as not to wake him, and steps quietly to the bathroom, bladder straining. Regal snores gently, but he doesn’t wake, so Wheeler closes the bathroom door behind him.

The large mirror next to the toilet — Wheeler thinks it’s a design flaw, why would anyone want to watch themselves pee — shows off the full length of him as he relieves himself. He’s not big by any stretch, he’s not Claudio or Mox, and he doesn’t have the barrel chest of his love, but God does he look different than he did before. His shoulders have definition, thanks to the work he’s been doing in the gym with the others, his arms aren’t bony and wiry anymore, and he’s got hips and thighs and god, his most favourite thing of all is his little tummy pouch. It’s barely anything, but there’s just a small pouch that sits above his low riding underwear. It proves to him that he’s survived, it proves that he made it, that he no longer has to work himself to death just to be able to stay alive. It’s proof of his healing, of his health, and it’s proof of Regal’s love for him.

Regal has many, many love languages, but his most favoured one for Wheeler is food. Any and all types of food — big steaming plates of what he calls the most wonderful food in the world, meat piled high with potatoes and vegetables and gravy, the little fluffy pancake type things Regal calls Yorkshire puddings are his favourite, and Claudio always makes extra, just for him. They go out to fancy restaurants, dive bars and burger joints, Regal expanding Wheeler’s stomach one restaurant after another.

It’s not always been easy, learning that food is readily available and he doesn’t have to worry about where it’s coming from anymore. It’s not always been easy on his body, either, his mind wanting to eat more than his stomach can hold and protesting about it the moment he had a mouthful too much. And sometimes Regal would get worried that he wasn’t eating enough, worried that Wheeler wasn’t eating because he didn’t want to gain weight, but Wheeler made sure to reassure him every single time that sometimes his body just couldn’t handle the amount of food Regal would like him too. They got through it together, though. Regal was there to hold his hand every time his stomach cramped up, and any time Wheeler even had a slight thought that he was hungry, whatever they were doing was immediately dropped in order to find him food.

His favourite thing they do is at night, when the day is done and they get to unwind, slipping into bed with toasted crumpets, buttered with jam and cups of tea while watching a British crime drama that Regal insists is better than any of the rubbish American cable TV has on. He doesn’t care that they get sticky fingers and that they have to get up and brush their teeth before falling asleep, because the feeling of eating a sweet, sticky treat in the most comfortable bed in the world, with the man he loves the most, it’s better than anything he’s ever experienced before.

He’s put on weight now, and he eats his three meals a day with snacks in between whenever he feels like it. It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world, knowing that he can walk into the kitchen and grab whatever he likes, not worrying if the others are going to want it or can they afford to have it replaced. That he can ask Claudio for anything and he’ll make it for dinner for him. Just the other day he mentioned that he hasn’t had sushi since he visited his parents last year, and before they’d even finished breakfast Claudio had ordered all the ingredients needed for making it, and they’re having it for dinner tonight. His belly and his heart are full.

Wheeler washes his hands and makes the quiet path back into the bed. It’s still early, so he settles back beside Regal and dozes a little bit more before they both have to get up for the day.

Regal’s arms encircle him once again, and he makes a gruff little noise as he rolls over, burying his face in Wheeler’s neck. Here, in this bed, this room, in Regal’s arms, it’s the safest Wheeler has ever felt. He remembers the desperate days when they were apart, and he would wake up alone, with dark circles under his eyes, dull skin and breaking hair, and he’d think of what it could have been like to wake up next to Regal, instead of Chuck's gamer rage coming from the other room. Now he doesn’t have to think about what it would feel like, because he knows how it feels, it feels wonderful.

After his confrontation with Chuck in the hospital he was discharged two days later, with strict instructions from the doctor to take it easy and to stick to the meal plan that had been confirmed with Claudio (he’d been overjoyed to be tasked with Wheeler’s nutritional needs, and provided the doctor with all sorts of meal ideas, calorie and protein rich, to get Wheeler back to a healthy weight.)

It was another few days after that that Wheeler said he would like to go back to the apartment to collect the rest of his things. He’d gone straight from the hospital home with Regal, with the little bag of clothes that Chuck had brought to the hospital that day. Regal had no issue with it, but he wouldn’t let Wheeler go alone. His excuse was that Wheeler still needed to take it easy, and shouldn’t be carrying heavy things in his condition. It didn’t matter how many times Wheeler told him that his things consisted of probably half a bag of clothes and a box of worthless sentimental items he’d bought from home-home when he moved, Regal insisted on going with him, and then once he did, Mox insisted on going too, and then Bryan and Claudio, and Wheeler couldn’t fight all of them so the day after that, they all went to the old apartment, like some sort of strange vigilante group.

Wheeler was kind of glad they went with him in the end, because when he’d knocked, out of politeness, Trent was the one that answered, and Wheeler thinks if the others hadn’t been behind him, Trent might have strangled him. Thankfully the presence of the others meant Wheeler was let in with no trouble at all, and as quickly as he could he went into the bedroom and started getting his things together.

Regal won’t admit it, but Wheeler heard him talking to Chuck about the debt on the place. Bryan was helping him fold his clothes, and they shared a look, listening to Regal’s calm voice explain that he had tried to clear the debt, but the landlord was scum and stole it. He offered Chuck more money to clear it, and even though they’d heard a very loud I don’t want your fucking money come from his mouth, Mox told him later on that Chuck had put the cheque Regal gave to him into his wallet.

They’d had another conversation — their final one — when Wheeler was done. Regal and the others took his things down to the car, and Wheeler stood picking at the scabs on his burnt hand as he tried to find words to say to Chuck. There wasn’t much else to say to him. He didn’t bring up Orange, or how he remembered listening to Chuck call him babe while he thought he was asleep, because Wheeler knows that it would be rich coming from him, so instead, he told Chuck he was sorry. Chuck cried, he cried out of sadness that he was losing Wheeler, and then he cried out of anger, anger at losing Wheeler, anger at Regal being older and having money. They didn’t really get anywhere with the conversation, Chuck still didn’t think anything he’d done was wrong, still didn’t understand just the position Wheeler had been put in by his actions.

Wheeler had left with a momentarily heavy heart. He really had loved Chuck, and he knew he would always care about him, but he had been killing Wheeler, whether he knew it or not. The heaviness in his heart had been quickly healed when Regal had pulled him close and told him how proud he was of him. Then Mox had popped his head between them from the backseat and said we’re going to McDonald’s now, right? And Wheeler knew, then and there, that he’d been a fool to ever choose anything else over Regal.

Wheeler feels himself stir awake again, a hand softly running up and down his spine. He looks up, seeing that handsome face looking down at him with a sleepy smile.

“Good morning, my love.” Regal’s voice is deeper when he’s just awake, and Wheeler shivers as his mind swims awake.

“Morning,” He says, sitting up just a little so he can graze a kiss across Regal’s jaw. “How long have you been awake?”

Wheeler glances at the clock, it’s not been that long, maybe half an hour or so, since he went to the bathroom.

“Not long, love, only a few minutes. I was just admiring how peaceful you were sleeping.”

“Mhm, I was dreaming about you.” Wheeler says, turning so he can face Regal in the bed, running his fingers over the soft, fuzzy, white and grey hair that’s across his chest.

“Oh you were? And what were you dreaming about?”

Wheeler cups the palm of his hand under Regal’s jaw, smoothing his thumb across his clean shaven chin and up across his mouth. “About how you treat me like a little prince. How you kiss me all over.”

Regal kisses his palm and then links their fingers together. Wheeler loves the sound their skin makes together. Regal’s is a little rough, weathered, while Wheeler’s is smooth and mostly unblemished. The drag and glide of it, Wheeler loves everything about them together.

“I’m the luckiest man alive to wake up and it's not just a dream.” Wheeler says then, leaning forward on his knees to press a kiss against his love’s mouth. They’ve both still got sleepy morning breath, but Wheeler never cares because it’s Regal, and Regal never complains either.

“I’m going to make us some tea.”

“We’ll get up and go down for some in a moment, darling.”

Wheeler kisses him again, “I’ll bring it up. I’m going to be gone all day for work. I want to spend some time with you, just me and you, before I go.”

Regal smiles at him. “Okay, love. Hurry back.”

Wheeler slips out of bed and finds his shorts on the floor and slips them on. Everyone will probably be awake, so he’s not going to walk down to the kitchen naked, no matter how happy with his body he is now.

His bare feet grow cold against the wood floor, not yet warmed by the heating or the sun streaming through the windows, but he’ll take so much joy in shoving them between Regal’s warm thighs when he gets back in bed.

In the kitchen Wheeler fills the kettle and puts it on to boil, and puts two tea bags into Regal’s pot. He’d been shown by Claudio how to make Regal’s tea just the way he liked it, brewed in a pot, strong and dark, and the first time that Wheeler woke up and made it for him the smile that he got in return, well, now one of his favourite things is to make Regal’s tea and take it to him in the mornings. Sometimes they don’t have time, Regal having meetings or Wheeler needing to be out early, but when they do, Wheeler makes sure he does it.

He pours the water in the pot once it’s boiled, and sets a jug of milk and the cup of sugar on the tray, ready to take upstairs. He lets it brew a moment, and while it does he steps out of the back kitchen door into the relatively new greenhouse.

It’s Daniel’s greenhouse, really. Bryan finished it about a month ago, a great big glass structure with the most beautiful iron mouldings, shaped in intricate flowers and vines. They grow everything inside of it, fruits, vegetables, flowers and exotic plants. It’s their thing to do together, pottering around, Bryan teaching Daniel every little thing he knows about gardening.

Daniel lives with them now, too, something that Wheeler never saw coming but is so, so happy about.

He’d noticed, a month or so into living with Regal, that Daniel spent a lot of time with Bryan. And after their conversation that night, Daniel saying that once his student loans were paid off he was gone, Wheeler had thought maybe this was Daniel’s last home stretch, that he was with Bryan so much to get paid that last little bit he needed so he could stop it all.

They went on a short vacation not long after that, to Regal’s beach house in California, and he and Daniel had been sunbathing on loungers while Regal and Bryan were fishing, when Wheeler asked, “So, are the student loans almost paid off?”

And Daniel had said, with a straight face as he sipped on his tequila sunrise cocktail, “They were paid off ages ago.”

Wheeler had looked at him aghast and had hissed, “What do you mean? Why did you say —“

“Told you what you wanted to hear. You’d have only gone into more of a spiral if I told you I was in love with Bryan too.” Daniel had cut in, leaving Wheeler confused. Hearing the words in love with Bryan made his brain spin. Because he’d thought that Daniel was something like the blood sucking leeches that Mox had been so upset about.

“I LEFT HIM! how could I have spiralled more?” Wheeler had practically squealed. It wasn’t Daniel’s fault he left, of course, but his words that night definitely hadn’t helped.

“Well I didn’t know you were going to freak out and leave him!” Daniel’s blazé attitude about the whole thing had stumped Wheeler, but that was Daniel all over, really.

Wheeler had been silent for a while before he’d mused, “What if I’d have told Bryan what you said?”

Daniel just shrugged at him and said, “He would have just laughed at you. He’s the one who made all the payments online. He knows the day they were paid off.”

“Why do you still work the street? If you love him?” Wheeler had asked, because at that time, Daniel hadn’t moved in yet, even though he’d spent a lot of time over at the house, so Wheeler just assumed that he was still working. Trying to pay off those student loans.

“I haven’t for a while.” Daniel revealed in a quiet voice. “I used to still do it because I didn’t want to be that guy that got bought by a rich man because he could have dropped me any second. But. When you stopped. I dunno, we talked. Admitted some stuff that I’d kept close. We were together before you and the old man made it back to each other, we just kept it quiet.”

Wheeler had sat a little bit stunned. He’d watched Regal and Bryan fishing, enjoying their time together, away from home, and realised that they’d both made it. They’d both fallen in love with men who bought them once, but now those men worship the ground they walk on.

Wheeler had turned to Daniel with a big smile on his face and said, “So, when you get married, are you going to be Daniel Danielson?”

“Oh my god I hate you.” Daniel responded, and refused to answer Wheeler's questions.

A few weeks after the vacation, and seemingly once Daniel had told Bryan that Wheeler knew they were together, Daniel moved in. It wasn’t a huge affair, just like Wheeler Daniel didn’t have that much stuff to bring with him, but he brought quite a bit more than Wheeler, and they’d spent the day putting it away. It was nice to have Daniel. Despite how comfortable Wheeler feels in Regal’s home, he’s still the poor little former sex worker who worked himself to near death. Regal and Bryan and Claudio and Mox are as understanding as they can be, but no one understands him quite the way Daniel does. It’s nice to have him, and sometimes, when the others are busy, they lay in the big front room together, eating popcorn and reminiscing about where they’ve come from to now.

Wheeler steps out of the greenhouse and back into the kitchen. The pot of tea is steaming, and when he takes off the top, it’s sufficiently dark, so he picks up the tray and carefully walks back upstairs to the bedroom.

Regal’s turned the huge TV at the end of the bed on, and playing on it is old style wrestling that Regal loves to watch. He’s told Wheeler all about how he used to dabble in it when he was younger, and how there’s lots of fighting classes at the gym he owns. Mox has been teaching him stuff lately, and Wheeler can’t deny that he absolutely loves it.

“There you are my love. I was starting to miss you.”

“I wasn’t that long.” Wheeler smiles, setting the tea tray down on the side table and starting to pour Regal’s cup. He adds a spoon of sugar and a dash of milk before taking it over to him.

“Thank you, pet.”

Wheeler pours his own and gets back into bed, being careful not to spill any on the sheets, and does indeed, shove his freezing cold feet between Regal’s warm thighs.

“Oh you rotten lad. What happened to that pair of slippers I bought you? The fluffy ones that Bryan moaned at me for because they aren’t vegan? Must you torture me with your cold toes so early in the morning?”

Wheeler grins around a sip of tea. “They’re down in the front room, you didn’t put them on me when you carried me up to bed the other night.”

“Oh I see, this is all my own doing, then?” Regal links their free hands together and raises an eyebrow at him. There’s a smile on his face, and Wheeler would kiss him silly if they both didn’t have burning hot cups of tea in their hands. Later, definitely later.

“Completely, Mr Regal.”

“I’ll get you, you know, little Yuta. When you’re least expecting it.”

“Oh I’m shaking in my boots, old man.”

“Rotten Mr Moxley is rubbing off on you, isn’t he? You wound me so very deeply.”

Wheeler squeezes Regal’s hand. “He’s been teaching me lots of stuff. And Bryan and Claudio. But you most of all.”

“Me, darling? What have I taught you?”

He gives Regal a soft smile, “How to be happy. How to be healthy.”

“Don’t, it’s far too early for me to cry into my tea,” Regal says, but he gently leans over and kisses Wheeler’s temple. “But I’m so very glad that you’re happy, love. It’s all I ever want.”

Wheeler is happy. He’s never been happier.

They finish their tea together, talking about what their days are going to look like before they both head into the shower to wash up and get ready. Regal washes his hair, spending time on massaging the shampoo into Wheeler’s scalp and making him feel boneless, and that’s even before he slides his hand down to Wheeler’s cock and jerks him off slowly and torturously.

Wheeler sinks to his knees and sucks Regal off just the way he likes, slow and sloppy, looking up at him through wet lashes, hands kneading at his thighs as Regal curses up a storm.

They brush their teeth together, arms pressed close as they garble through a conversation with the toothbrush in their mouths. Wheeler keeps wondering if the honeymoon period is ever going to end, because it’s been so long, and so far it feels like it never could. Every day is more wonderful than the last.

Regal helps him pick out his outfit for the day, a nice pair of beige chino type pants, maroon shirt and maroon knitted sweater. It’s Regal’s favourite colour, and a lot of the things he brought Wheeler were maroon, so it had become Wheeler’s favourite colour too, so on a day like today, a big event at the YMCA, it was the perfect time to wear their favourite colour.

They head downstairs to breakfast, finding the table starting to fill with food that Claudio brings out, toast, crumpets, fruit, vegan bacon for Bryan and plenty of eggs for Mox. Wheeler’s favourite, much like his late night snack, is toast and jam. Claudio makes the best homemade jam, and his latest batch of blueberry jam has been so delicious that Wheeler thinks he could live off it.

As usual he sits in the chair closest to Regal, buttering himself a piece of toast and then cutting up some fruit for Regal. Where Regal’s love language is food and feeding, Wheeler’s is most definitely acts of servitude. It makes him happy to do stuff for Regal. To make his tea, cut up his breakfast, to tie his shoelaces and comb his hair. Regal had tried to stop him, telling him that he didn’t have to do anything for him just because he wasn’t being paid anymore, but Wheeler truly wasn’t doing it for that reason. He just really likes doing it. He likes to take care of Regal in any way he can, the same way that Regal takes care of him.

He drinks another cup of tea with his breakfast, even though he knows he’ll have to pee multiple times before he even gets to work.

“Is it that event today, kid? You’re all dressed up.” Mox says to him as he pours an ungodly amount of hot sauce on his eggs and toast.

Wheeler nods. “Mhm! Jade told me I had to look smart.”

“You look very smart, brüederli.” Claudio says, setting down another plate full of fruit. Wheeler feels himself beam on the outside and the inside. He loves when Claudio calls him his little brother. He loves being Claudio’s little brother.

Wheeler finishes his breakfast and clears his plate despite Claudio’s protests that he’ll do it for him, before wrapping his arms around Regal’s shoulders.

“We should be finishing about four, so I’ll be back for dinner, and I’ll call you when I can.”

“Have fun love, I know it’s going to be great, so you don’t need luck.” Regal says, turning to kiss Wheeler’s cheek and squeezing the hand that’s on his shoulder.

“I’ll see you later, I love you.”

Regal smiles at him. “I love you too, darling. See you soon.”

Wheeler waves goodbye to the others before leaving the house. There’s a driver already waiting for him in one of Regal’s cars, and he gets inside, shooting Jade a text to let her know he’s on his way.

He’s been working with Jade at YMCA for a few months now, and it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever done. He loves helping her run the clinics, helping with the paperwork so she has more time to do all the things she wants to.

Wheeler decided it was what he wanted to do when he and Regal had the conversation about Wheeler returning to work. Regal didn’t want him to work, he said Wheeler had worked enough for his whole life time and he was more than happy to take care of him. There was no need to ever make money, because Regal made him dig out that black American Express card he gave him the day they met and use it for whatever he wanted. That money was Wheeler’s, no strings attached, no matter what ever happened between them. Wheeler couldn’t say that never working again didn’t seem appealing to him, but he knew he had to do something. Sitting around all day would send him crazy. And he’d been going over things he could do one day when he thought about the YMCA, and how much he’d relied on it when he needed condoms and his sexual health screenings done. He had told Regal about it and he’d instantly agreed, and the next day they’d gone down to the YMCA to talk to Jade about Wheeler volunteering with them.

She’d taken him on instantly, and he’d started helping out a couple of days a week, at first. It started with him on the front desk, talking to walk-ins and directing them to where they needed to go or giving them information they were looking for. Then, Wheeler started working more closely with Jade, sharing a little bit of his story with her and telling her how he’d like to give back. They’d brainstormed a little bit, bouncing ideas off of each other about how to help those on low or no income, helping with food parcels and debt management. In the end Wheeler had taken his ideas to Regal, who had given him a big beaming smile and told him to do as he wished, reminding him of the card in his wallet. Wheeler never needed to ask permission for anything.

So, together he and Jade had set up even more resources at the YMCA. There’s food collections and donations, they provide hot meals for anyone who needs them, there’s classes on debt management, emergency funds, help with finding shelter and accommodation if you find yourself on the street, there’s even more help for sex workers, more free condoms, more rigorous sexual health screenings and special rooms created as safe spaces for anyone who may have faced violence while they worked. They recruit more volunteers and workers to help it all go smoothly. Wheeler has never, ever been more proud of anything in his whole life, and he knows it’s going to be hard to beat. He’s making a difference in the community. He’s really, really making a difference. They’re busier than ever, and Wheeler tries to go the YMCA nearly every day for at least a few hours if he can’t do all day (Regal makes him rest a lot, he’s still scared he’s going to overwork himself like before.)

Today they’re holding a small fundraising event, where businesses and members of the community have pledged their time and products to sell and raffle off to raise money for the centre. He and Jade have spent weeks planning it, and it’s finally all ready to go. Regal made a big donation the other day, even though technically a lot of his money has already gone into setting the whole thing up. He keeps saying that it’s Wheeler’s money even though it’s not, so really, it’s Regal who’s making a difference in this community. But Wheeler knows he’s pushing it all along, so that feels good. He and Regal have already been planning the next charity gala, the one that ended in tragedy last time, this time having Jade more involved and switching up the format, putting on more entertainment and getting more people involved. Regal tells him that the world is lucky to have someone like him, someone like Wheeler, and it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy every single time he does.

The car drops him off outside of the centre and he steps out with a thank you to the driver before quickly making his way inside.

There’s a lot of people already inside setting up, tables being filled with freshly baked goods, homemade jewellery and art pieces, clothing and prize hampers. It looks great, and Wheeler jumps in immediately, helping move boxes and tables and holding onto ladders as all the decorations get put up. They haven’t got much longer to go before the doors open to the public, but everyone’s working hard and Wheeler knows they can do it.

He’s in the middle of carrying a box full of leaflets they’ve had printed specially for the event, to tell people about the work they do and encourage more people to get involved, when Jade glides over to him with a big smile on her face.

“Wheeler, baby!” She coos, and she’s got the iPad in her hands.

“We just received the biggest donation outside of the gala. From Tony Khan, along with the message “May the Regal’s continue to provide the community with an invaluable hub of help and support.” Look at what you’ve done for us, all these connections. We haven’t even sold anything yet and we’re already going to be able to get that extension we were talking about. We’ve already hit our target and more.” She turns the iPad around to him, showing him the donation website which does show Regal’s friend Tony Khan’s name with a donation that contains a lot of zeros.

Wheeler feels pride bloom in his chest. People as rich as Tony should have always been donating to organisations and charities, and not just at gala’s when they’re trying to show off how much money they can afford to give to a good cause, but it’s not always the case, and sometimes it takes them seeing someone first hand going through a horrible situation to put their hand in their pocket and help out more regularly. He knows that Regal has had conversations and meetings with Tony since he came home, and that Regal definitely told him about what he’d gone through. Tony owned a lot of the apartment blocks around town, but didn’t have an awful lot to do with them despite that, and Regal had made sure to enquire whether the apartment block that he and Chuck had lived in was owned by him or not. It wasn’t, but Tony knew who did own it, and made sure to look into the crooked landlords who seemed to be operating out of their buildings. And sure, it was Regal who had the meetings with Tony, and suggested he take a closer look at the landlords, but it’s because of Wheeler that any of this is happening. Because Wheeler managed to survive, because Wheeler didn’t run away when things got hard. Because Wheeler decided to give back after he was saved.

And God, it really doesn’t hurt that Tony refers to them as the Regal’s. They’re not married, and Wheeler doesn’t know whether that will be on the cards or not, but for someone to refer to him and Regal as the Regal’s, a unit, one entity. Yeah, that makes him really happy.

“Maybe it’s my connections but it’s your hard work too. You make all of this happen, Jade. Without you this place would be nothing, you kept it running even without the money.” He tells her, setting down the box of leaflets and starts pulling them out and fanning them across the table.

“I did, but it didn’t grow. With you, baby it grows! Look at everything we’ve managed to do in just a few months. Really, thank you, Wheeler.”

Wheeler smiles at her, and she puts her big strong arms around him.

“And we’re not stopping. We’re not stopping until we’ve got multiple sights across the town and no one ever has to go through what I did again. This is just the beginning.”

“You’re one amazing person, Wheeler Yuta. Come on, let’s get the set up packed away so we can get ready for opening.”

Jade leads him to the back room that is basically her office, collecting boxes and step ladders and anything that isn’t for the fundraiser together and stacking them away.

When the doors do open, there’s a lot more people than Wheeler was expecting. They’d done a lot of advertising, posters and flying up all over town, and all the businesses providing their merchandise had been advertising too, but he wasn’t expecting this kind of turn out. It’s amazing. There’s so many people, all queuing up to buy the amazing things at the stalls, buying raffle tickets and putting money in the donation box or filling out donation forms. There’s even a local news crew, and Wheeler sends them over to Jade because this is her baby, her work, and she needs the recognition for it.

The day has been amazing, and things are slowly starting to draw to a close and Wheeler’s been handing out fliers for about twenty minutes, talking to people and letting them know about the work they do, when he hears a voice he hasn’t heard in months.

“Wheeler?”

He turns, clutching the leaflets to his chest when he sees Chuck standing in front of him. A little ways behind, Orange and Trent stand at one of the stalls, but they turn back to look at him while trying to be inconspicuous about it.

“Chuck… hey.” He says. The last time he’d seen Chuck had been when he went to collect his things from the apartment, and they hadn’t had any communication since then. Not a call, a text, nothing. Which, Wheeler’s thankful for, really.

“Is this?…”

Somehow, Wheeler knows what Chuck’s asking without him even finishing his sentence.

“Yeah, I work here now. We’re raising money to expand.”

“That’s awesome. Better than Starbucks, huh?”

“No one yells at me for making their coffee too hot or too cold, so infinitely better.”

“Still wearing the beige chinos, though.”

Wheeler looks down at his pants and realises that yeah, he is.

“I’ll have you know that I really happen to like these pants.”

Chuck smiles at that, and Wheeler realises he hasn’t seen Chuck smile since quite a while before they broke up. Those last few weeks weren’t good at all.

“So, how have you been?” Chuck asks him, his hands relaxed in his pockets. He looks good, he’s cut his hair and trimmed his beard. And well, he’s actually outside. Somehow he’s not on his video game, and Wheeler knows that’s a miracle in itself.

“I’ve been good, really good. Things have been great here, we’re, we’re really doing good. And you know, everything else is good too,” He says. He doesn’t want to rub it in Chuck’s face that he’s so head over heels crazily in love with Regal and that everything is more perfect than ever before. Chuck might not have been the world's best boyfriend, and he might have made a lot of mistakes, but Wheeler knows he wasn’t either. “How about you?”

“They were… rough for a while, but they’re good now, actually. I uh, I cashed that cheque.” Chuck says quietly, like he’s ashamed. “I wasn’t going to, but our landlord, wow, what a scumbag. Trent and Orange offered to help pay back a little at a time but he put the rent up and wouldn’t budge. So uh, thanks, for the — for the help.” Chuck scratches at his chin. Wheeler knows it probably took a lot for him to admit that, to even use Regal’s money in the first place. But Wheeler also knows desperation. He knows about that scummy landlord more than anything.

“I got a job,” Chuck says then. “And I’ve moved in with Trent while I look for a new place. I cleared the debt and left, it really was a shithole, wasn’t it?”

Wheeler smiles. “Yeah, especially after the flood. There was kind of no saving it then,” Wheeler shrugs. “Where did you get a job?” He can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness, of hurt and disappointment, that it took Wheeler leaving for Chuck to finally realise he needed to get a job.

“Game stop,” Chuck laughs. “It’s not much, but it’s something.”

“I’m happy for you.” Wheeler says honestly, shifting the leaflets in his hands because they’ve started to get sweating. He’s about to excuse himself when Orange steps over. He doesn’t say anything, he just slips his hand into Chuck’s and gives Wheeler a look, a look that’s hidden under his sunglasses, but Wheeler knows the look. Well. Wheeler might have been the one physically cheating, but that tiny little action shows him that there must have always been something going on with them, whether it was physical or not, Wheeler wasn’t crazy, and the two of them weren’t doing it to keep a roof over their head.

“Orange, hey.”

Orange doesn’t say anything. He’s never been much of a talker, but now that Wheeler knows that Orange always disliked him behind his back, well, now he gets it.

Before he can say anything else, his phone buzzes in his back pocket. He slides it out, seeing a picture of him and Regal when they were on their vacation, Wheeler beaming and holding up a bucket and spade that he’d jokingly bought at the beach and Regal standing behind him, staring at him with nothing but love and adoration illuminates the screen. It’s Regal’s contact picture, his number calling, and Wheeler looks up at Chuck and Orange.

“I have to take this. Uh, thanks for coming by, it was nice to see you. I’m glad you’re doing good,” He says, “I'll see you around.” He gives them a little wave before ducking away, finding a little corner before he answers the phone.

“Hello Mr Regal, what can I do for you?” He smiles into his phone. They still like to play around sometimes, they’ll never forget how they met, and despite everything, Wheeler will never ever regret it, he still loves being little Yuta, and Regal still loves to be Mr Regal, it’s just now no money exchanges hands, and Wheeler doesn’t have to leave at the end of the day.

“Mm, a nice little kiss from pretty little Yuta would be nice,” Regal hums, and he can practically see him smiling down the phone too. “How are things, love?”

“They’re really good. We got a huge donation from Tony this morning, so we hit our target before even opening the doors. And then it’s just been packed in here. We’ve made enough for the extension and then some.”

“Oh pet, that's wonderful. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, but none of this could be possible without you. And Tony.”

“Don’t be silly. Sure we have the money, but the real work is going down there and making it all happen, and that is all you and Jade and the team. My precious little Yuta, such a wonderful thing.”

Wheeler feels his cheeks heat up. “Don’t say anymore or you’ll set me off.”

Regal laughs softly down the phone. “Sorry pet, I’m actually calling because Claudio’s having a slight breakdown. He got the delivery this afternoon of the sushi ingredients for dinner, and well they sent regular rice instead of sushi rice, he’s been on the phone since because he’s adamant that he didn’t order regular rice. Would you mind popping into the Asian store on your way home and grabbing some? I do fear he’s going to burst a few blood vessels if this situation isn’t fixed.”

Wheeler laughs, he can imagine Claudio freaking out in the kitchen, swearing in one of the many languages he can speak about regular rice and sushi rice. God, he really loves his family. “Of course, we’re probably about to start wrapping up here so once we’ve put everything away I’ll head over. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home.” Home. He loves that that’s home now, that it always will be.

“Thank you pet. I’ll let Claudio know to stop stressing. Have a good rest of your afternoon, love. I miss you.”

Wheeler feels gooey inside. He looks up, finding Chuck and the others gone, the centre is almost empty save for a few people still looking around while the stalls pack up. They’ve had a successful day, they’re going to be able to expand the centre, they’re going to be able to do so much stuff with the money they’ve raised. And now he’s going to be able to go home, to his love, to his family, eat his favourite food surrounded by his favourite people, and then curl up in bed with the man he loves more than anything else in the whole world. He’s been through a lot, he’s dealt with a lot, but at the end of it all, he came out with more than he could have ever dreamed. He found that feeling that he always wanted, the one his father had coming home to his mother. He can’t wait to see Regal even though he only saw him a few hours ago. He can’t wait to see his family. Wheeler is alive, he’s healthy, and he’s at peace. Things couldn’t be any better.

“I miss you too. Don’t worry, I’ll be home soon. I love you.”

Regal makes a warm, pleased sound on the other end of the found. “Yes you will, darling. I love you too. See you soon.”

Wheeler ends the call and slips the phone back into his pocket. He packs the leaflets he’s still clutching into an empty box and stashes them in the backroom, ready for another day. He helps the others break down the displays and the stalls, thanking them all for their hard work and everything they’ve given to the fundraiser.

It’s about an hour before he finally gets back into the car, and tells the driver to stop off at the Asian mart before they head home.

He picks up the rice, laughing to himself as he checks out, still thinking about Claudio receiving the delivery this morning and realising that he hadn’t got the right rice. Claudio is very particular about giving Wheeler the meals he’s asked for, if Wheeler asks for something he gets it, no matter what it is. Wheeler loves Claudio so very much, he really is like his older brother, one that doesn’t bully him like the older brother that Mox is (not that Mox really bullies him per say, but he really does tease him a lot, and he pushes him hard in the gym, so he’s a little bit of a bully.) Claudio takes care of him with a very similar intensity to Regal. It fills Wheeler’s heart to bursting.

Wheeler gets back into the car and sends a quick text to Regal, letting him know that he’s on his way home with the rice. He receives an instant response of little heart emojis that Wheeler taught him how to use.

When he pulls up to the house, his home, he feels that peace settling over him again. He’s home.

Wheeler heads inside, the big bag of sushi rice tucked under his arm, and heads straight for the kitchen.

Claudio’s filleting the fish, buckets of ice next to him to keep it at the right temperature.

“Brüederli! My hero, thank you, Wheeler.” Claudio grins at him, taking the rice from him and giving him a big hug.

“Did everything else arrive okay?”

“Yes, everything is great. Other than the rice everything came correct.”

“Good, I’m really looking forward to dinner. I haven’t had sushi in so long.”

“I hope I can do it justice for you, Wheeler.”

“Everything you make is amazing, so you don’t have to worry,” Wheeler grins at him. “Is William in his office?”

“He was the last time I saw him, but that was a little while ago.”

“Thank you Claudio, see you later for dinner.”

Claudio waves him off, and Wheeler steps out of the kitchen into the hallway, bumping into Mox as he comes down the stairs.

“Yoots! You’re home, Bry and Danny are in the gym, you gonna join us?”

Mox is dressed in his gym gear and has his water bottle in his hand. Wheeler nods, “Let me say hi to William and then I’ll get changed and meet you in there.”

“Jonathon, are you stealing my love away before I’ve even got to see him?”

Regal’s voice comes from behind, and Wheeler turns as he wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him close. “Hello darling.”

“He ain’t going anywhere old man, and besides, you have to learn to share him sometimes. I gotta teach him how to scuffle.”

Wheeler smiles up at Regal, winding their fingers together. “Hey you,” He says softly. “You should come and watch, you haven’t seen what I’ve learnt in a while.”

“You know what love, I think I just might. We have to get you changed first, though.”

“Oh fucks sake, don’t keep him too long old man. Or I will come up to get him no matter what you’re doing.”

Regal raises an eyebrow, “Now now, if you think about doing that I’ll cut your eyes out, flower. Go on, get warmed up, we won’t be long.”

Mox makes over dramatic gagging noises but heads off towards the gym anyway, and Regal tugs him gently towards the stairs.

“How was the rest of your day, love?” Regal asks as they make their way up the stairs to their room.

Wheeler smiles. He decides not to tell Regal about Chuck. He doesn’t need to know, either he’s seen the money leave his account and never told Wheeler or he didn’t notice, and Wheeler isn’t particularly hurt by the fact that he’s dating Orange now. There’s nothing to tell him, nothing that is worth telling him, when his day has been so wonderful and amazing.

Wheeler is safe now. Wheeler has a home, a family that loves him, the man of his dreams, and he makes a difference to the lives of people who really, really need it. Wheeler’s had many, many good days since he came home from the hospital all those months ago, and he knows that he’s going to have many, many more to come. But today, Wheeler thinks today might be a little special. The culmination of everything he’s been through, and how far he’s really come, it all showed out today. He’ll remember this day for a long time.

Wheeler squeezes Regal’s hand as they get into their bedroom. The love he feels for this man and everything they’re building together consumes him.

“Best day ever.” He says, and as Regal smiles at him, Wheeler knows that every day for the rest of forever, is going to be the best day ever.

[dunkzillla]

New Tricks for an Old Dog (9/10)

William Regal x Wheeler Yuta, Chuck Taylor x Wheeler Yuta

I’m so sorry this chapter took a little longer to get out! I ended up getting sick and I didn’t want to put out a half hearted attempt at anything while I was in pain med induced delirium! I hope that you enjoy this anyway, we’re so nearly at the end! Thank you for all your love and support!

Title: New Tricks for an Old Dog

Pairings: William Regal/Wheeler Yuta, Chuck Taylor/Wheeler Yuta

Ratings/Warnings: Language, Eating Disorders/Disordered Eating, Derogatory statements/langue about Sex Work.

Word Count: 4,087

Summary: A painful conversation, a bag of McDonald’s, and a happy ending.

Parts: ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN | EIGHT

“Wheeler, I’ll ask again, who the hell was that?” Chuck asks again, and for the first time in a very long time, Wheeler sees the anger etched into Chuck’s features. Chuck hasn’t been angry in a long time, not since he got laid off from his job, and never, ever has he been angry at Wheeler.

“Could you just sit down please? So we can talk?”

Chuck dumps the laundry bag he’s brought with him at the end of the bed and sits down into the chair Regal was just occupying in such a heavy way that the feet scrape loudly against the floor.

“You’ve been cheating on me, that’s what this is, isn’t it?” Chuck accuses, arms crossing against his chest.

Wheeler feels sick to his stomach, and this time it’s not because of the pain medication he’s on or the horrible hospital food he’d eaten for lunch this afternoon. His face hurts, his wrist hurts, his body hurts, and his mind is a little fuzzy thanks to the concussion. Chuck confronting him about Regal is the very last thing he wanted at this moment in time, even though he knew it was going to happen sooner or later. But he can’t make himself wish Regal didn’t come. Because seeing the man made him feel a million times better than he did when he woke up this morning, the first thought of waking consciousness being that he’s missing work, and that he couldn’t afford the hospital bills with no insurance.

“Yes… but not, not in the way you’re thinking.”

Chuck scoffs at him, “Yeah? What’s the excuse then, Wheeler? You slipped and fell?”

It’s cruel, given the circumstances, but Wheeler feels that he does deserve it in some way. He has been cheating on Chuck. Chuck has a right to be upset.

“I’ve been… I was an escort. I didn’t work at a gas station, it never existed. I was on the street, selling myself so we could afford to live.”

Wheeler can feel Chuck looking at him but he can’t meet his eyes, he’s looking down at the bottom of the bed, where he can see his feet sticking up under the blanket.

“You’re joking with me. Wheeler, tell me you’re joking.”

Wheeler feels that thick feeling in his throat, the tell tale sign that he’s about to cry, and he shakes his head, trying to stave it away.

“I’m sorry. I know I should have told you, but it was, it was really good money, Chuck. Money that we desperately needed. Sometimes I made more at night than I did in a week at Starbucks.” Wheeler tells him, still looking down at the end of the bed because he can’t bear to look at Chuck, who’s face must be twisted with horror and disgust.

“How long? How many men?”

Wheeler swallows, fiddling it’s the end of the bandage on his wrist. It’s burned from the milk, apparently, that spilled all over him when he passed out. It’s sore and itchy and all he wants to do is rip the bandage off and scratch at it with all his might.

“Nearly a year, but I can’t tell you how many… I never kept track,” Wheeler says, feeling disgusted in himself in a way that he never has before. “Six months ago I met Regal. He came to see me one night, and he paid more than any other man ever has. He kept coming back, I became his personal escort. I attended a charity event as his date. He paid me a lot of money Chuck. Money that kept us with a roof over our head and a tiny bit of food in the fridge.”

“You didn’t need to cheat on me to do that, Wheeler.”

“Maybe not, but I was desperate, Chuck. Do you actually know how much debt we’re in? How much it costs for you to sit in the apartment all day running up the electric bill?”

“We’re not that bad off that you had to sell your fucking body, Wheeler!”

“Yes we are!” Wheeler raises his voice, instantly regretting it as his head throbs. He rubs at his eyes with his uninjured hand, feeling them damp with tears and sore from exhaustion. “Why do you think I’m in here, Chuckie? Without me working two jobs we can’t make rent, let alone any other bills and food. I’m overworked. I’m exhausted, I’m malnourished, because I don’t have the time or money to eat. I eat what I can at work. But it’s not enough. Working the street gave me the kind of disposable income that meant I could pay the rent, the bills and buy food. Regal fed me every single day, so much that I actually started putting weight on.”

“If he’s so great, how did you end up here? You didn’t suck his dick right? So he stopped feeding you?”

The words are cruel and callous but Wheeler understands that Chuck is hurt and lashing out, so he takes each blow as he picks at his fingers.

“A few months ago Regal told me that he has feelings for me. He asked me to stay with him, he told me he’d take care of me.” Wheeler says quietly, and there’s a heavy feeling in his chest as he remembers that night. How wonderful the night was until Wheeler ruined it all.

“Oh, did he now?”

“And I said no, Chuck. I said no because I knew what I was doing was wrong, and that it wasn’t fair to you. I said no because I have feelings for him too and I realised it had gone too far, so I left. I stopped escorting and I was going to look for something else, something better. I’d got a good chunk of money left from what he’d given me so I knew we’d be okay. Then we had the flood, and you spent the last of it on your set up so I had to get another job. The restaurant is real, Chuckie I promise you. The day I told you I got let go from the gas station is the day I stopped seeing him. Today is the first day I’ve seen him since then.”

Wheeler finally looks at Chuck, who’s got his head buried in his hands trying to make sense of everything that he’s being told.

“You love that old man?”

Wheeler doesn’t think he’s let himself utter the word love about Regal. Regal told him he loved him the night that he left, and Wheeler knows the feeling he’s got inside of him definitely is love, he’s just, not said it before. Not to himself and not to Regal.

“Yeah, I do. I’m sorry.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.” Wheeler answers instantly. It’s automatic. He does love Chuck. He does. He did, he always has. It’s just. William Regal is the light in his life that he so desperately needs, that he’s so desperately been searching for. He always used to see the way his father’s face lit up when he came home from work, and his mother was at the stove or helping Wheeler with his homework at the kitchen table, he’d look at her and drop everything, his briefcase and suit jacket and just embrace her, kissing her and telling her how much he’d missed her, how happy he was to be home. Wheeler’s always been searching for that feeling, and maybe he thought he found it with Chuck at the beginning of their relationship. When Chuck would get home from his stuffy office job and collapse on the couch, telling Wheeler about his bad day and saying how great it was to finally be home.

He realises now that that was just normal coming home from work talk. That as soon as Chuck started playing his video games for work that feeling went away, Wheeler was the one coming home wanting to talk about his bad day and curl into Chuck but Chuck couldn’t look away from his games long enough to hold Wheeler in his arms and make him feel better. So Wheeler lost that feeling that his father clearly had about his mother. But seeing Regal. That really did feel like that feeling. Every time he saw the Rolls Royce on the side of the curb it was like there were thousands of butterflies in his stomach, erupting into a frenzy at just the mere thought of getting into the car and seeing Regal. That’s the feeling he’s been chasing, the one he doesn’t get with Chuck.

“I do. Chuck I do love you, but, the way I feel about him is… it’s completely different.”

“Yeah, it’s to do with the size of his bank account.”

“No, no it’s not. I couldn’t care less about the size of his bank account. He’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. He cares about me, he cares about my day and my health and he listens when I talk —“

“I do all of that!”

“You don’t,” Wheeler’s voice cracks on the words, and he feels tears start to run down his cheeks. He’s never, ever wanted to have to confront Chuck about his failings as a boyfriend. He’s gone above and beyond just to let him live his dream, the life he wants, he never wanted this to happen. “You sit on your PlayStation more than eighteen hours a day. When I come home from work most of the time you barely spare me a glance, and when you do you’re usually trying to start something, when I’m tired and don’t have time. You eat every single bit of food I can afford and you never, ever save anything for me, you don’t make me anything or get me anything if you order food. You complain about me being skinny and tell me to eat but you don’t do anything to actively take care of me, Chuck. I pay the bills. I take care of the apartment. I work. I do everything, everything, just to let you live out this crazy dream of playing video games for a living. I resorted to selling myself, because you didn’t see that winning barely two hundred dollars a month isn’t enough to keep a roof over our heads!” Wheeler feels his head throb as he gets worked up, as he thinks about how he’s been living for the past year.

“You should have come to me before you decided to get fucked by other men for money, Wheeler! I would have sorted something, gotten a job or —“

“No you wouldn’t.” Wheeler almost whimpers, rubbing furiously at his eyes. “When the apartment flooded and I begged you not to use the money I’d made to buy your set up, I told you to get a job and pay for it yourself and what did you do? You spent the money! That’s why I had to take the job at the restaurant. The money you used was my last bit left over from Regal and I was trying to ration it until I could get a better paying job than Starbucks. I asked you to get a job and you didn’t.”

“I think if you’d have told me you were having thoughts of being a whore for money I would have gotten a job, Wheeler.”

Wheeler shakes his head. Chuck doesn’t see it, does see that he basically gave up his own life for Chuck to have his.

“I love William, Chuck. And I don’t care whether he’s got a massive bank account or not, I’ll work until the day I die to make my own money because I’m not looking for a pay day, I'm looking for someone who loves me more than anything in the world. And I’m not saying you don’t love me, but William… he… he would do anything for me. And I mean anything, whether it had monetary value or not. He will go to the ends of the earth to make sure I know he loves me.”

“So you’re leaving me, huh?”

“Chuck, I’m sorry, I love you I —“

“Honestly Wheeler I’d say I can’t believe it but Trent and Orange warned me about you, and I guess I was too stupid to see it.”

Wheeler nearly gives himself another concussion with how quick he whips his head to look at Chuck when those words come out of his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“They always said you were looking to be a kept boy. I mean, you had nothing when you came to this city, and they always said you made a beeline for me cos’ I look like a big dumb bear who’ll fall for anything. I took care of you, I looked after the little lost kid who was sleeping on the floor of a friend's apartment. I helped you when you had no one else, Wheeler. And they always said you’d leave me when you could but I always told them they were wrong, that you loved me. I should have listened to them.”

Wheeler feels something inside of him crumble and crack. He’s always known Trent didn’t like him, there was just something about him that made Trent pick at him whenever they were around each other, especially if there was beer involved. Orange wasn’t much of a talker, and he’s generally a laid back guy who didn’t make Wheeler feel like there was any animosity at all. So to know that both of them have been talking behind his back, telling Chuck that he’s looking to be a kept boy, that, that really hurts.

“Chuck, this is not about —“

“You say you love me but you’re leaving me for a man who has all the money in the world to give you what you want, you whored yourself —“

“Don’t you dare! I know you’re angry and I know you’re upset and you have every right to be but do not make this out to be something it’s not. I never, ever looked at you as someone to take care of me like that. I did not and do not want to be kept by anyone. I fell in love with you the day I met you, you were this big, loveable goof who made my cheeks hurt from smiling and my stomach cramp from laughing. I wanted to build a life with you, we started to build that life, I worked, you worked, we managed to buy our apartment, we were creating something special, Chuck. I have never, ever asked you to take care of me. I gave my quality of life for yours, because I loved you so goddamn much, I loved you so much that seeing your face when you talked about getting accepted into tournaments and winning money made having to cram myself into footwells of cars in the middle of the night sucking random dick for twenty dollars worth it. I did absolutely everything and anything I could to give you your dream life. It has damn near killed me. You can be angry at me for cheating on you and falling in love with someone else, that’s fine, but don’t you, or your stupid, enabling little friends, ever, ever accuse me of wanting to be yours or anyone’s kept boy.” Wheeler spits the last words, they taste horrible and dirty in his mouth.

“Wheeler—“

“Just, go, Chuck. Please just go.” He says, exhausted and hurt, both physically and emotionally.

A voice that Wheeler wasn’t expecting speaks instead of Chuck, the door to the room opening.

“This lowlife causing trouble, kid?”

Jon Moxley is standing in the doorway, an overfull bag of McDonald’s stuffed under his arm. He’s staring at Chuck with a hard look on his face, the hand on the door handle is white from how hard he’s clenching it.

“Mox, what—“

“This someone you fucked for a box of twinkies?”

“That how much you think he’s worth, Chuckles? Doesn’t surprise me, considering you’ve melted your brain away playing a goddamn kids game.”

“It’s not—“

“I don’t give a shit. Get outta here. And if you show your face again I ain’t letting you walk away with it intact, got it?”

There’s a moment of hesitation before Chuck is pushing his way past Mox and leaving, his tall frame disappearing out of the door and down the hall. It’s not the end of it, Wheeler knows that, there’s still a million more things he could say, that Chuck could say, but they won’t change anything, so it’s enough for now. It’s about as much as Wheeler can take right now, anyway.

“What are you doing here?” Wheeler asks as Mox dumps the McDonald’s bag into Wheeler’s lap and slumps down into the chair next to the bed.

“His lordship needed someone to bring his car here seeing as Bryan drove him over. Thought I’d bring you some real food while I did, I know this place gives out slop and calls it high quality food.” Mox says, his hands shoved into his pockets and his whole body relaxed and loose in the chair.

“Thank you,” Wheeler says, and he opens the bag, finding it crammed with boxes of fries and burgers. He takes out a pack of fries and a cheeseburger before handing the bag to Mox.

“I brought it for you, kid.”

“I’ve been eating a wheat cracker and out of date sandwiches for months, I won’t be able to eat all this. Eat with me?”

Mox makes a face before reaching for the bag. He digs into the fries like a man with no food manners at all. It makes Wheeler smile, because the first thing he thinks is that Regal must tell him off all the time, he can practically hear it in his head. Wheeler unwraps the burger and takes a small bite. It tastes heavenly. He hasn’t eaten McDonalds in so long.

“I’m sorry, for how I treated you.” Mox says. It’s quiet and around a mouthful of fries, but Wheeler hears it.

“You don’t—“

“Nah, I do. It wasn’t fair. I’m very protective of the old man, found him in a bad way when we first met and me, Bry and Claudio don’t want anything to happen to him to get him back that way. And I saw a lot of guys take him for his money, he’s a soft touch and he’ll just hand it out like he’s candy. I don’t wanna see him taken advantage of,” Mox says as he munches down fries.

“But I didn’t listen to him when he told me you weren’t like that. Shouldn’t have called you a whore, either. I had… my own stuff with em’ once upon a time but I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.” Mox says. Wheeler takes another bite of his burger, savouring the taste and not wanting to get full up too quick by eating too fast.

“Thank you, but I understand. I’m glad he’s got people like you and Bryan to look after him. He is generous, way too generous, but it’s a big reason why I love him.”

Mox shoves half the burger into his mouth. “You really love im’?”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” Wheeler says. Just because he hadn’t said it or really thought about that word concerning Regal before now doesn’t make it not true. He does love him. He loves the man so, so much. “And I want to be with him, in any way he’ll have me. I promise I’m not trying to take advantage of him. I'm not looking for his money. I know it’s probably empty words from someone who was paid to be with him but… I really, really love him.”

“You walked out on it when you knew it was getting rough. He told me you wouldn’t let him give you anymore money. I know, kid. I’ve just been a stubborn ass.” Mox sighs, finishing off his food and tossing the wrappers into the paper bag. Yuta takes another bite of his burger and chews on a couple of fries. His stomach’s already starting to get full but he knows that he’s not going to be wondering where his next meal comes from, and that makes him feel so, so much better.

Mox talks to him while Wheeler eats, managing to finish the burger and only leave a handful of fries, which, once he sees Mox eyeing them he offers them to him and they disappear.

Mox is in the middle of telling him about his boyfriend Eddie’s three am drunken antics when Regal comes back into his room, his eyes widening a little at seeing Mox sitting in the chair.

“Jonathon, what are you doing here? If you’ve been harassing—“

“Ah don’t fret, old man. I brought you your car like you asked, and got the kid some McDonalds cos’ I heard he’s malnourished.”

“Thank you, Jon, for bringing my car, though Wheeler needs real food, not your American fast food, to build up strength.”

Mox rolls his eyes, “Yeah yeah, Swiss is already working on some stuff. But look at him. Brighter already!”

“What happened with Mr Taylor?” Regal steps further into the room, and Mox stands up to give him the chair.

“He was being a huge asshole so I told him to take a hike.” Mox grumbles.

Regal looks at Wheeler and takes his hand, which is still a little greasy from the fries. “Are you okay?”

Wheeler nods. “It wasn’t easy, he said some really horrible things. Like apparently his friends always thought I was trying to make myself his kept boy and he’s completely disgusted by me but. I said what I needed to.”

“Trying to make yourself a kept boy? You worked two jobs to —“

“I know, I know,” Wheeler says, squeezing Regal’s hand to calm down the anger that’s so clearly threatening to boil up. They don’t need to do that right now, he just needs him, by his side, making him feel like he’s walking on air. “It’s over now. I’m yours now, William, if you’ll have me.”

“Always, darling, always.”

“Okay gross I’m leaving. Old man, your car’s on the top floor of the parking lot, like the fourth row down on the end.” Mox says, passing Regal the keys to his car. He takes them with one hand, the other is still cradled in Wheeler’s on the bed.

“Thank you, Jonathon. I appreciate it, I really do.” He says, and Wheeler knows he means more than just dropping off his car for him.

“Ah don’t, it’s nothing. I’ll see you back at home. Take care of yourself, kid.”

Wheeler smiles. Mox has some misplaced anger at escorts, and misplaced fears about what Wheeler is really like, but he’s trying to make up for that, and he’s thankful for it, and glad that he’s so fiercely protective of Regal. “Thank you.”

Mox gives them a wave before he’s ducking out of the room and down the hall. The room falls silent for a moment, both of them watching Mox disappear before Regal turns back to him.

“Oh darling. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Wheeler squeezes his hand again, lifting his injured one up to run through the short hair at the side of Regal’s hair. “I’m sorry I left before. I really thought I could fix everything, that Chuck… might change.”

“My love, I understand, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. It was selfish of me to ask you to stay like that when we hadn’t even spoken about our feelings for each other, and you were still with Chuck, no matter how rotten he is. That was selfish of me and I’m sorry. But we can put that behind us now, Wheeler. And if you are mine, I’d really like to start building our future.”

“I am yours, and I’d really like that too.” Wheeler says, and he does, he really likes it, he really, really likes it and he wants nothing more than to just be with Regal.

Regal kisses his palm. “May I kiss you, darling?

Wheeler feels all his insides warm and his heart tries to burst through his chest. He’s missed this feeling so much. Missed the feeling of waiting to be kissed by Regal, missed the feeling of being kissed by Regal. Missed being loved by him, and now he gets it back. He can have Regal.

“Forever William. You can kiss me forever.” He whispers.

[dunkzillla]

New Tricks for an Old Dog (7/10)

William Regal x Wheeler Yuta, Chuck Taylor x Wheeler Yuta

I think I’ve finally got the outline penned down for this, so the chapter count is my estimate that may change, not sure, so don’t be alarmed if it changes again. This is a smaller chapter but I hope you enjoy!

Title: New Tricks for an Old Dog

Pairings: William Regal/Wheeler Yuta, Chuck Taylor/Wheeler Yuta

Ratings/Warnings: Language, Eating Disorders/Disordered Eating.

Word Count: 2,478

Summary: Mr. Regal was right, Wheeler Yuta is wasting away.

Parts: ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX

Three months, five days, seventeen hours, thirty five minutes and a handful of seconds. The amount of time Wheeler’s been without Regal, and every single second he’s been more miserable than the last. It’s about as long as he was with him, and Wheeler thinks that it’s not fair that the time he had with him felt like the blink of an eye, while everyday without him feels like a long, laborious slog.

Wheeler’s life went to hell in a handbasket about halfway through the first month without Regal.

He already regretted it, knew that he would, but it was strictly because he missed the man that he wished he hadn’t done what he did. He knew he had to, the whole night at the gala he’d thought it over. If he couldn’t even bear to sleep with someone else, for money, for his job, then it had gone too far. He had to put a stop to it before it went any further. He had to leave, no matter how much it broke him when Regal was begging him not to, when he was telling Wheeler he loved him.

The first few weeks without Regal were hard, he missed the man more than words could ever say, and he felt the loss of going to see him every single night. He decided to quit selling himself on the street. He’d learned his lesson with Regal — that it was far too easy to fall into something he shouldn’t, that he was jeopardising his relationship with his boyfriend for money that he could make elsewhere.

The weeks were hard but he got through them. He told Chuck that he’d been let go at the gas station as cover for not being missing every night, and started looking for a better alternative. He made enough money that last week with Regal to be able to not worry about only having one job for a little while. They had groceries in the fridge, the rent had been paid for the month and he’d chipped away at the debt enough to breathe for a moment. He and Chuck did the date night they’d talked about, nothing fancy or expensive, just a stroll around the park, dinner at a cheap, greasy diner, and then home, where Chuck made love to him half a dozen times.

Despite what Wheeler told himself, the happiness he felt in those moments were nothing compared to the happiness he felt when he was with Regal, and it had nothing to do with the money. The way Wheeler felt when Chuck kissed him was nothing compared to the way he felt when Regal did it, and it only became more apparent the longer he spent away from Regal.

It was hard without him, it was horrible and there were some nights where Wheeler lay in bed looking at Chuck’s hand thrown over his waist and wished that it wasn’t so toned, that the skin was slightly wrinkled, that the arm hair wasn’t dark but slightly greying. But Wheeler had made his choice. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t leave Chuck. Not when he’d been cheating on him behind his back. Chuck didn’t deserve that. And he loved Chuck, he loves him.

Things fell apart when, halfway through the first month without Regal, a burst pipe in the floor above them flooded their apartment. Wheeler came back from his shift at Starbucks one evening to find total chaos on not only their floor, but in their apartment. It was a rare day that Chuck wasn’t glued to the PlayStation, instead out with Trent, helping him move his old couch out of his place and the new one in. Their entire place is filled with water, the TV, Chuck’s gaming setup, the couch, the fridge freezer, everything touching the floor is completely ruined, fried and water damaged. Trent was there, salvaging what he could while Chuck seethed on hold to maintenance.

The apartment building owners take care of the major damage, the hole in the ceiling, the damp walls and the sodden floor, and their landlord gets an insurance payout. They don’t see a cent of that payout, though, the landlord using it instead to pay off some of what Wheeler and Chuck owe him.

They’re left with an apartment that has nothing but water damaged furnishings and no working fridge, freezer or TV.

They argue about what little money they have should be spent on. Wheeler wanted to buy a cheap fridge from craigslist, maybe even find a free one. They get Trent’s old couch, which thankfully hadn’t been sold at Goodwill by the time they went back to get it, and Wheeler spent hours scrubbing at the rest of their furniture, the coffee table, the bed, the TV stand and nightstands to try and get the watermark from being so visible.

Chuck wanted to spend the money on a new set up. He can’t make money without a TV or a PlayStation, he said, it’s the most important thing.

That was the first time Wheeler lost it with him. He screamed at him, telling him to just get a job and pay for the damn thing himself.

By the time Wheeler had come home from Starbucks, Chuck had a new TV and PlayStation, blaring loudly as he screamed at Trent and Orange over the new headset.

It was like a kick to the gut. He hadn’t had to check their bank account to know that the last of their money was gone, blown on the fancy set up while their fridge sits not working, mouldy food still inside. That night, Wheeler had gone to bed and cried himself to sleep, the same way he did the night he left Regal. He cried and he cried and he cried, and Chuck didn’t hear him over the noise of the TV. He thinks about Regal’s words, he won’t look after you. He was right. And maybe Wheeler had always known he was right, but he couldn’t leave Chuck. He loved Chuck. He did. He does.

The next night, Wheeler came back from Starbucks, changed his clothes and then went back out again. He’d been thinking about going back to the street like before, it was quick, pretty easy money, and it would be able to let them get a new fridge. Daniel comes into Starbucks to see him most days, the first time to tell him about how Regal broke down the night he left, and then subsequently to check how he was doing, to make sure he was eating (he’s not, he can’t stomach anything) and he told him that no one had taken his place, he could still come back.

He’d almost given up hope and gone back, when he stumbled across a Chinese restaurant with a sign on the window, asking for a dishwasher.

Wheeler gets the job within five minutes of being in there, and he starts right away. It’s hard work, the kitchen is hot and the cooks shout at him to hurry up in a language he doesn’t speak, but it’s pretty good money and there’s no shortage of hours. The restaurant opens from five till midnight, and Wheeler starts on the dot and finishes around one or two in the morning, every single night other than Tuesdays, when the restaurant is closed.

So Wheeler starts a new routine. He works as much as he can at Starbucks during the day, and then the restaurant at night, sometimes going directly from Starbucks to the restaurant, barely even having time to go to the toilet before his shift starts.

It’s hard but it works. He makes enough by month two to get a second hand fridge on Craigslist, the thing is dented to hell but it works and that’s all that matters.

When he pays the rent that month, barely managing to scrape together the full amount, the landlord laughs at him and asks him why someone sent him a cheque to clear Wheeler’s debt. He knows right away that it’s Regal. Wheeler accepted the payment for the gala and then blocked his access to sending money to his bank account, as well as his number, and he keeps the black AMEX card hidden away in his wallet, where he’ll never, ever touch it. Regal was still trying to take care of him, even though Wheeler told him not to.

It doesn’t make a difference though, because the landlord tells Wheeler that he’s in debt too, that it’s just enough to put himself in the black out of the red. He takes Regal’s money for himself, and it doesn’t make a blind bit of difference to Wheeler’s balance. He pays the rent and cries himself to sleep again, too embarrassed to call Regal and ask for help, and he can’t tell Chuck, who will find out everything.

Three months on from leaving the most wonderful man in the world, Wheeler feels like there won’t be any sunlight ever again. Without Regal there is no light, and it’s his fault there is no Regal.

He starts resenting Chuck. Wheeler always thought that if he really asked Chuck to get a job, he would. That this was him just trying to reach his dreams and Wheeler supporting him, but it’s not. He doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t know if Chuck is truly blind to the situation they’re really in, or whether he just refuses to acknowledge it. Because he used the last of their money for a TV and a PlayStation, and when Wheeler told him he got another job at the restaurant all he said was that’s great news, babe, like it was normal for him to have to go out and get a second job just to maybe be able to pay all the bills this month. Like he was okay with Wheeler working himself to the bone.

He hears Chuck call Orange babe over the PlayStation headset one night, and he feels all his insides shrivel up to dust. Wheeler left Regal because he knew what he was doing was wrong, because he felt like he should have been loyal to Chuck from the start and should never have slept with anyone else, especially for money. And maybe it was wrong, but the way he felt about Regal. That was never wrong. It shouldn’t have ever been wrong. Regal wasn’t wrong. Chuck didn’t appreciate him, he did nothing to take care of him, and he was wasting away, while Chuck was having the time of his life, calling his best friend pet names usually reserved for Wheeler.

Wheeler doesn’t eat much these days, about as much as he did before he met Regal. He has crackers or dry toast in the morning with a lemon water if he has time before starting work, eats whatever sandwich is going out of date for his lunch break, and then a handful of noodles if there’s any left over at the restaurant, though there mostly never is. He works nearly eighteen hour days six days a week and he’s exhausted. He’s exhausted, he’s cold, he’s tired. He’s hungry but his stomach twists painfully anytime he thinks about food, and his whole body hurts.

They have a working fridge now, but little money for groceries. With Chuck’s updated set up he uses more electricity than he ever did before, and Wheeler makes nowhere near as much as he did when he was out working the street, so he can’t afford as much as he used to. Not that Chuck ever offers to cook for him, he’s often still gaming when Wheeler gets in from the restaurant, his own dinner — cup noodles, microwave burgers, bags of chips — strewn on the coffee table in front of him. Wheeler usually leaves him where he is, barely even responding to his hey babe, how was work? Questions, just trudging himself to bed, too tired to do much else. Chuck doesn’t even seem to notice Wheeler’s resentment. Lately Wheeler’s wondered whether there was any sign he was ever cheating on Chuck, was he just good at hiding it or did Chuck not pay enough attention to him to even realise? If he notices that Wheeler’s lost weight again he doesn’t comment on it, nor does he even try to stop himself from demolishing half of their cupboard stuck just after Wheeler has bought it.

He starts to weaken, and he tries to ignore it. The pots get heavier, somehow, taking him more and more energy to haul them up into the sink so he can scrub them clean. It takes him longer, and they shout at him more, but he can’t go any quicker. The hauling of the pots winds him, and by the end of the night he’s walking home with that painful feeling in his chest, like he’s been running a marathon and his lungs and limbs are burning. Some nights he gets into the apartment and it takes all of his strength to make it to the bedroom without collapsing. His vision often blurs and his head swims.

Wheeler looks at himself in the mirror when he wakes up and when he goes to bed. There are dark circles underneath his eyes and his skin is pale and pasty. His hair is dull and breaking. His hands are boney and bruised from knocking them against the pots and pans. His pants hang loose around his hips and his shirts gape at the neckline. He misses Regal more than he’s ever missed anyone in his whole life. It brings him to tears, staring at himself, what’s left of him, thinking about how Regal used to run his fingers through his hair and over his face and tell him he was beautiful. Looking at himself these days, Wheeler knows he never deserved a man as wonderful as Regal saying those things to him. People like Wheeler didn’t deserve people like him.

It’s a busy morning in Starbucks, and Wheelers been working for a few hours already, another six still to go, and he’s standing at the milk steamer, the jug held under the nozzle as it jitters and steams away.

In the distance, Wheeler swears he hears that deep, smooth British accent. He whips his head around, eyes frantically searching for the tall handsome man.

His eyes are unfocused, blurry. He can’t make anyone out. He blinks furiously as the room spins and people start turning into two. The milk steamer screeches in his ears, and there’s someone calling his name, but he can’t move. Wheeler’s whole body is tingling, and his hand is burning.

There’s a whooshing sound, like a rush of wind right next to his ear, and then the metal counter is cracking against the side of his face as his body crashes to the floor.

All Wheeler sees is black.

[dunkzillla]

New Tricks for an Old Dog (1/?)

William Regal x Wheeler Yuta, Chuck Taylor x Wheeler Yuta

A little later than I was hoping, but @slapofhonor asked for Chuck/Yuta, and @di0brando asked for Regal/Yuta, and I knew I could (somewhat, I hope) deliver with this. Updates will be sporadic but I hope you enjoy regardless!

Title: New Tricks for an Old Dog

Pairings: Wheeler Yuta/William Regal, Wheeler Yuta/Chuck Taylor

Rating/Warnings: Explicit — Sexual Content, Language, mentions of Disordered Eating.

Word Count: 4553

Summary: Barista by day, sex worker by night, Wheeler Yuta is burning the candle at both ends trying to make ends meet. Businessman and Lord by day, lonely old man by night, William Regal desperately searches for something to make him feel alive.

“Fuck sake Trent you prick! I told you to go around the back!”

Wheeler’s eyes flutter open, woken by the loud shouting, and fall on the old, blinking alarm clock on the bedside table. Four thirty am.

Wheeler sighs. He could spend the next half an hour laying here in bed listening to Chuck yell at Trent and Orange over Fortnite or he could get up and have hot lemon water and a few wheat thins while sitting next to his boyfriend before heading off to work. He throws the thin covers off himself and grabs Chuck’s sweats and hoodie from the floor and slips them on. They’re far too big, Chuck’s much bigger than him, stockier, taller, but they make him feel warm and safe and they smell like him.

“Piece of shit can you not just listen to me for one second?” Chuck yells again, and when Wheeler steps into the living room he can hear the sounds of gunfire on the screen, the tap tap tap of Chuck’s thumbs on his controller. He must hear Wheeler step into the room, because he turns and looks up at him, sheepish. “Shit, sorry babe, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Wheeler stands behind him on the couch and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry, needed to get up for work anyway. You want breakfast?”

“No thanks babe, I had toast when I got up.” He says, turning his face so he can kiss Wheeler, chaste and quick before turning back to his game.

Wheeler sighs a little. He doesn’t know how Chuck can spend so long staring at the screen, playing the same game day in day out. He barely sleeps, less than Wheeler does with two jobs, moving only to use the bathroom and shower, make himself microwave pizzas and burgers if Wheeler’s not there to do it for him. Which, he isn’t a lot of the time because of his two jobs.

Times have been hard for them since they moved out into their new place. Chuck lost his job a few months after they signed the lease, and then decided that instead of getting another job, he was going to focus on his video game career. The trouble is, there really is no video game career, Chuck’s simply not good enough to be a professional gamer, nor does he have the money to spend on the kind of equipment that professional gamers have which allow them to easily win tournaments and spend all of their days gaming. So Chuck spends all day ‘practicing’ and then enters tournaments on the weekends, coming so far down leaderboards that he doesn’t even make any money. He’s unemployed, playing video games all day, while Wheeler works two jobs to try and pull them both out of the mountain of debt they’re buried under.

Wheeler works at Starbucks during the day, making just above minimum wage and whatever meger tips get put in the jar, and by night, Wheeler walks the streets and sells his body to men that drive by.

He never intended to become a sex worker. He never intended to get into strange cars with strange men and let them do what they wanted with him for fifty to a hundred bucks, but he met Daniel Garcia in a YMCA queue waiting for free condoms and heard all about the little spot where he and a few others go to make a little extra money. Wheeler had been in debt enough to know that his paycheck this month wasn’t going to cover all of the bills, so he’d gone down that night — telling Chuck he was going to do a trial shift at a gas station — and worked the street with Daniel. He gave out four blowjobs, one hand job, and got fucked by a man twice his age. He made three hundred and fifty dollars in four hours, more than he makes in a week at Starbucks.

He’d felt sick when he got home, seeing Chuck curled up on the couch, waiting for him to get home. But they needed the money, Chuck’s gaming skyrocketed the electricity bill and with only him making any money, he needed more than just a minimum wage job or two to keep the roof over their head and a bit of food on the table. So Wheeler set his guilt aside and went out the next night too, making even more than he did the first time, and went out the night after that and the night after that, and he hasn’t stopped since. He misses a couple of nights here and there, Wednesdays are the slowest days and sometimes it’s hardly worth standing out waiting for someone to drive by, and on Chuck’s birthday, he doesn’t go then. But every other night Wheeler stands with Daniel and waits for men to pull up so he can say, “You looking for something hot stuff?”, before getting into their car.

But even with the sex work, Wheeler doesn’t make enough for them to live comfortably. He doesn’t always get great hours at Starbucks, reducing the amount he earns, and when it rains, Johns don’t want to pick up soggy and damp sex workers. So he goes without a lot, the groceries he buys tend to be things that can go in the cupboard or freezer, non perishables, and even then he lets Chuck eat most of them, microwave pizzas, microwave burgers and hot dogs, pizza pockets and bags of chips, he’s bigger than Wheeler and needs more, and he gets to eat the leftover pastries and sandwiches at work, so he doesn’t mind. His shoes are falling apart, and he wears the same cycle of clothes so that he can keep a good few pairs of jeans and shirts for special occasions. Not that there are many of them, these days.

Daniel gave him some stuff to work the street with. Told him that men, particularly the ones that frequent their street, like them in skirts and sparkly tops. He went to Goodwill and found himself a second set of clothes, and he alternates them every night, wearing one sparkly top with one skirt, swapping it the next. He’s got a trusty pair of knee high boots with a chunky heel that keeps his feet warm when it’s cold.

Chuck still doesn’t know what he does at night. He told him he got the job at the gas station and works nights. When he gets home, usually around three in the morning, later if it’s a good night, he’s already changed out of his skirt and boots in Daniel’s car and he wears one of Chuck’s hoodies everywhere to mask any leftover scent of another man’s cologne.

Wheeler makes himself a mug of hot water with a squeeze of bottled lemon juice in and roots in the cupboard for his wheat thins and takes out two, holding them in his palm and going over to sit next to Chuck on the couch. He leans against his arm and sips on his water, nibbles on his cracker and watches Chuck and his friends get absolutely decimated by teens at Fortnite.

“You got work tonight baby?” Chuck asks when the game ends and the loading screen flickers.

Guilt gnaws at Wheeler’s belly like hunger does, and he swallows down the dry cracker as he nods. “Mhm. Not sure what time I’ll finish, depends if Jade can get a babysitter to come in the middle of the night.”

Jade Cargill isn’t exactly a made up person, she’s the wonderful woman who gives him his free condoms at the YMCA and helps him sort out his sexual health check ups, she just isn’t his colleague at the gas station like he’s told Chuck.

“Remember to eat, yeah?”

“I’ll have something at work. And gas station snacks.” That’s not completely a lie, either. He does get food on his break at Starbucks, and gas station snacks are the chips he and Danny share when there’s a quiet hour and no Johns.

Chuck puts an arm around his shoulder and pulls him in to kiss his temple, “Make sure you do. You work too hard, my little Yuta bear.”

A little bitterly, Wheeler thinks ‘and who’s fault is that?’, but it’s unfair, really, because he hasn’t asked Chuck to get a job, he’s letting him live out his dream for as long as he can until he realises it’s not going anywhere. When he does, Chuck will get a new job and there’ll be two incomes and things will settle down again. Wheeler can stop working the streets and he’ll be able to make a proper dinner for the two of them.

“I have to get ready, kick their asses babe.” He murmurs softly, finishing off his water and licking the crumbs of the crackers from the palm.

“Don’t I always?” Chuck says like it’s true, and Wheeler just laughs as he makes his way into the bathroom and jumps into the shower. He’s in and out, using as little hot water as he can but making sure he’s clean, brushes his teeth by scraping out the toothpaste tube, refusing to buy another one until there isn’t even a drop left in this one.

He comes back out into the living room wearing his beige chinos and black Starbucks shirt and Chuck wolf whistles at him like he does every morning.

“Boy do I love me a man in uniform.” He grins, and the screen is loading again, so it’s not really a surprise when he leans over the side of the couch and tugs Wheeler in by his belt loops, pulling him onto his lap.

“Chuckie, I gotta go to work.” Wheeler says quietly, but he’s smiling, warmth spreading through him with the way Chuck looks at him, hands sliding over his body and down to rest on his ass.

“I know I know, just wanna give my boy a little goodbye kiss.” He says, and he tips his face up until Wheeler takes pity on him and leans down to kiss him.

Chuck's kisses light him up from the inside, the way his big arms feel wrapped around his small waist, the way he dominates his mouth with his tongue.

“Chuckie I mean it, I gotta go or I’ll be late.” Wheeler breathes out as Chuck deepens the kiss, grinding up into him like he’s trying to start something.

“You know I can make it super quick, baby.”

Wheeler huffs out a laugh, and manages to de-tangle himself from Chuck’s grasp. “Later babe, promise. But I can’t be late.”

Chuck lets out a long, sexually frustrated sigh. “You prance around in those tight little trousers and expect me not to do anything.” He whines like a teenager, and Wheeler rolls his eyes, kissing his cheek.

“I love you, see you later.”

“Love you too baby, have a good day.”

Wheeler heads out, tucking his hands into his hoodie pockets as he gets out into the cold fall air.

He works a ten hour shift, thankful for it despite his aching feet because it’s way better than the five hour shifts he was getting offered last week, and gets home at five, eleven hours after he left the apartment this morning.

Chuck is in the exact same position as he was when Wheeler left at six am, except the apartments got a bit messier. There’s an empty cup noodles pot tipped over onto the coffee table, leaking the last of the sauce out after being toppled over by the weight of the fork.

“Hey baby, good day?”

Wheeler dumps his things by the couch and drops onto it, his aching, throbbing feet finally getting the weight off them. He can feel the hole in his shoe having gotten bigger. No matter how much money he makes tonight, he’s going to have to use a little of it to get him a new pair from Goodwill. Well. A newish pair.

“As good as anyone can have with entitled middle class people screaming at you for having made their coffee too hot or too cold,” He says, watching the tv screen show Chuck’s character ducking behind doors trying not to get shot. “What about yours?”

“Got accepted into a mini tournament today, won two hundred dollars.”

Wheeler sits up a little, he can see the pride on Chuck’s face, his little flushed cheeks and patchy stubble. “Baby that’s amazing, well done.” Wheeler says, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Just a little more practice and I’ll be getting those big cash prizes in the big leagues.”

Chuck says it with such reverence, such confidence, that Wheeler really wants to believe him. He really does, it’s just, he knows that no matter how much Chuck practices, he’s never going to be as good as those guys in the professional leagues. Chucks been jobless for months now, almost a full year, and he doesn’t seem any better than he was when he started. Wheeler doesn’t know how much more their landlord will forgive when it comes to late and not the full amount rent payments.

“Yeah Chuckie, just a little more,” He smiles softly, lying too easily to him these days. “I’m gonna’ go for a nap before work, I’ll see you in a little bit.” He says, giving him a quick kiss before dragging his already exhausted body into the bedroom and flopping down onto the bed, not even bothering to change out of his Starbucks uniform.

He sleeps for a couple of hours, waking up feeling less exhausted but not at all rested, before getting up and taking another quick shower. Wheeler’s just got time for a quick lemon water once he’s put on some clothes and brushes his hair before he hears Daniel’s car horn blasting from outside.

“See you later on babe, make sure you get some sleep.” He calls to Chuck as he makes his way out of the apartment, leaving him in the same place for the second time in one day, and knowing that he’ll return later, at about four am, to find him exactly where he left him. Chuck’s “I will, I love you.” back to him gets lost in the sound of the door closing behind him and his feet pattering down the stairs towards Daniel’s car outside.

It’s a rusty old heap of junk, but Wheeler’s thankful that Daniel has it, because it gets them too and from the street they work when it’s cold and raining, keeps their belongings safe, and gives Yuta a place to change into his skirt and boots that are tucked into his bag.

“Took your time, Yoots.” Daniel grumbles when he gets in, but there’s no heat to it.

“I overslept a little, long day at work.”

“Has—“

“No, Chuck still doesn’t have a job. You don’t need to ask every time.”

“I was going to say did he win any tournaments, actually.”

Wheeler rolls his eyes and shakes his head, “No you weren’t. And yeah, he did, actually, two hundred dollars.” He says as he shimmies into his skirt. It’s a short little black thing, with the sides cut out but pulled together with a silver string detail. It’s not the type of skirt you wear underwear with, so he doesn’t.

“Wow, that’s really going to put a dent in the thousands of dollars of rent arrears you’re in.” Daniel says, one arm slung out of the window and the other one on the wheel. It’s not that far to the street they frequent, so Wheeler works himself quickly into the halter neck silver top, and slides on his boots. Daniel’s already dressed, though they both always put on their shimmery lipstick together.

“Every little bit helps, Danny.” Wheeler says, taking the lipstick from Daniel and applying it to his lips. Daniel looks at him sympathetically but doesn’t say anything else, just gets out of the car and adjusts his purple mini dress.

It’s a slow kind of night to start with, they only get a couple of cars swing through, Hook across the street taking one of them, Daniel taking another, and then one of them asking for both him and Daniel, which, isn’t entirely unusual, though it does make for a very cramped double-team blowjob in the back of the Johns Ford Mondeo.

It’s around midnight when the black Rolls Royce turns the corner. It drives by once, then comes around again.

“What the fuck is a Rolls doing around here?” Wheeler says, and Daniel’s already hiking his dress up a little further and looking down at himself to make sure he looks okay.

“Hey, no, this one’s mine. You’ve already got Bryan in the Mercedes.” Wheeler whines, stepping away from Daniel a little, like he’ll be able to sprint to the flashy car and get there first. He won’t, he’d die in these heels doing that.

“I recognise the plate, he knows Bryan.”

“So I should take him! Bryan will get jealous.”

“Wheeler—“

“Please? You can take him next time if he comes around again. I need this.”

Daniel actually smiles at him, one of those ‘you’re something else but I love you,’ smiles and steps back to lean against the wall. “Go on then, don’t keep him waiting.” He says.

“Thank you!” Wheeler says quietly, before turning and heading over to the Rolls, the window sliding down the closer Wheeler gets.

“Looking for some fun, hot stuff?” He says in his softest, sweetest voice.

“Most certainly with you, pet. Jump in.”

The man is British, and for once he’s actually good looking. He’s older, Wheeler thinks maybe he’s in his fifties, with mousy hair striped white and gray in some places, a soft face with smile lines and crow's feet. He’s rakishly handsome, and Wheeler finds himself on the verge of aroused as the man drives them a little further down the street to park up.

“What’s your name petal?” He asks when they park up.

“Yuta, sir.” Wheeler says. He’s always used his last name, it’s personal enough that he can connect, not intimate enough that it feels too close to home.

The man smiles when he says sir, and a rough hand settles on Wheeler’s thigh, stroking the smooth, bare skin. “One with many friends,” He hums softly. “What a beautiful name for a beautiful flower such as yourself.” He says. The words make Wheeler blush, which doesn't happen when he’s with Johns. He feels hot all over, the way this man is looking at him is doing something to him, the way his accent settles in his ears and over his skin. It’s nothing like he’s ever experienced before.

“My name is William Regal, but you can keep calling me sir, if you’d like, it sounds so wonderful coming from that pretty mouth.” He says, squeezing at Wheeler’s thigh again, inching just a little higher, his pinky finger dipping under the hem of the skirt. Wheeler can feel himself getting hard under his skirt. It usually doesn’t happen this quickly, only when he’s touched himself on the build up to getting fucked or on the rare occasion that John’s want to go down on him. This time though, he’s got arousal shooting all over his body and he’s barely been touched.

Wheeler spreads his legs invitingly, biting his lip and tugging his skirt just a little higher. “How would you like me, sir? Oral is—“

“Don’t fret yourself with your rates, petal, I’ve more than enough money that I don’t need to know. Why don’t you come take a seat here? I’d like to get a closer look at that pretty face.” Regal taps his lap, and Wheeler feels a little thrill run through him as he climbs over the centre console of the car to slip into the man’s lap.

“There you go, look at you. Pretty little flower. Bryan told me you were.”

“You came here looking for me?” The thought makes Wheeler shiver, though he's not sure whether it’s good or bad.

“I guess you could say I did, petal. Bryan uses Master Garcia’s services, and he told me that he had a friend who was simply wonderful. I thought I would come see for myself.”

Wheeler can’t help but preen at that, there’s something about a man, someone clearly well off and important, being told about little old Wheeler, standing on a street corner waiting for Johns to pay him for sex and coming to see him. Because he was told he was pretty. Wheeler knows he’s been doing this too long, that he thinks that’s a good thing.

“Do I live up to your expectations, sir?” He purrs.

Regal lifts a hand and runs it down the seam of his top, fingertips just barely touching his skin. “I think you might just be the prettiest thing I have ever seen, little Yuta. But I think I’m going to have to see a little more, just to be sure.”

Wheeler shifts in his lap, and he can feel the man hardening underneath him. And because this man is clearly well off, Wheeler decides to push his luck, just a little. “Taking my clothes off costs you extra.” He grins with a cheeky look in his eye. And it’s true, really, Wheeler doesn’t take his clothes off very often. It’s more intimate than he’d normally like, but he’ll do it on occasions.

Regal reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. It’s thick, bills are stuffed into the pocket and the little slits are all occupied with cards. He pulls one out, turns it in his long fingers a few times, before sliding it right into Wheeler’s mouth, like he’s about to draw money from an ATM.

“7381. Take. Them. Off.”

Wheeler shivers, slipping out of his slinky little top and dropping it into the footwell of the car. He takes the card out of his mouth and looks at it. It’s a Black American Express card. Wheeler knows that they only give these out to people who spend a certain amount of money. An obscene amount of money. And this man just gave him his card, with the PIN number. Just to take his clothes off. He puts the card on the empty seat, and he pulls his skirt above his hips and up his chest and off, he’s lost enough weight lately that it slides right off. Wheeler drops the skirt with the top into the footwell, leaving him naked in Regal’s slap, wearing only his boots.

“Oh pet, you really are the prettiest thing I have ever seen.” Regal says, fingers moving across Wheeler’s skin, making goosebumps erupt all over his arms.

William Regal fucks him in the car just like that. He pushes his chair back, kisses Wheeler as he stretches him open with his fingers, using his own, premium brand lube and condoms rather than the shitty, cheap brand Wheeler gets for free from the YMCA. Regal kisses across his chest as Wheeler rides him likes he’s never ridden a John before, using the back of the chair as leverage to fuck himself down, letting Regal’s fingers press bruises into his hips. He comes harder than he has for a long time, even with Chuck, crying out until his throat is sore as the orgasm rips through him.

They’re both a panting mess by the end of it, the car windows steamed up and Wheeler’s skin sweaty and balmy as Regal continues to run his hands all over him, like he can’t get enough of him. Truth be told, Wheeler doesn’t know if he can get enough of William Regal, either. His cock is long and thick inside of him, his hands rough and skilled, his mouth sweet and addictive.

When they’ve caught their breath, Wheeler reaches back and plucks his top and skirt from the floor, shifts out of Regal’s lap and into the passenger chair again so he can redress. His thighs are sticky with lube, and his lipstick is nearly all gone. He’s going to have to clean himself up in Daniel’s car.

“I trust this should cover our hour of fun, petal?” Regal says, handing him the thickest wad of notes Wheeler has ever seen.

“Sir, that is far too much.”

“Not at all. You’re beautiful, and you are more than wonderful company. Take it, flower.”

Wheeler’s not even sure how much is there, but the stack is topped with crisp one hundred dollar bills, so he knows it’s way more than he charges for intercourse usually. He doesn’t argue anymore, because he does need the money, and if this man is generous enough to tip really well, then who is he to question him? He does, however, pick up the black AMEX card and hold it out to him.

“Take it, petal. 7381.” Regal says, reminding him of the PIN code. Wheeler stares at him, mouth agape.

“Sir, I couldn’t possibly—“

“Oh hush, darling. You think I don’t know someone down on their luck? Not many do this line of work for fun, and I would like to help.”

“I still can’t accept—“

“Yes you can. In fact, I’m asking you, as part of your services, to take my card with you. I know you probably don’t have a set charge for that kind of thing but, you can just charge it to the card at a later date, hm?” Regal smiles, and he takes Wheeler’s hand, kissing his knuckles before pushing his hand with the card in away from him.

“Thank you, sir.”

“No, thank you, petal. Will I see you around here again?”

Wheeler nods, slipping the money and credit card into his little bag. “I’m here every night, excerpt for Wednesdays.”

“Prior engagements?” Regal muses with a smile.

“Slow day, not much fun in standing around waiting for nothing.”

Regal hums, “I suppose you're right, flower. I will be back on a day that is not a Wednesday.” He says.

Wheeler smiles, and for the first time, he feels happy and excited about a John returning. He’s never really had a bad experience with one, some can be rude and a little rough, but he’s never had to call for help or been hurt by someone. Though that doesn’t mean that he actively wants any of them to come back, that he’s excited when they do. They’re just random men, faceless, money makers. William Regal feels different.

“I’ll look forward to it, sir.” He says, and he leans over, pressing a kiss to his cheek and surprising them both as he does so, before he slips out of the car, feeling an ache between his legs.

“Goodnight, little Yuta.” Regal says, the window sliding down once again. Wheeler turns to look over his shoulder as he starts to cross the road to walk back to the street corner.

“Goodnight Mr Regal.”