#aew fic

[mrsarcherofinfamy]

●Darby Allin x Reader●

Summary: You are bubbly and outgoing. Opposite of Darby. But Darby feels an attraction to you. Do opposites attract?

_________________________________________

"Hi Dad!"

I walk into my dad's locker room, smiling really big. My dad is the icon, Sting. Everything I know, I have learned from him. I am just starting to make a name for myself in ROH.

"Hello my favorite daughter!"

"Dad, I'm your only daughter."

"Exactly why you are my favorite!"

I giggle, walking up to him as he wraps me into a hug. I pull back, looking up at him.

"Let's get to painting that ugly face of yours."

He gasps at me which causes me to laugh.

"I may be ugly, but just remember. You look like me."

I gasp at him and he laughs at me this time. He walks over, grabs his bag with his paint supplies in it and hands it to me. He grabs a chair and sits next to the vanity as I lay out all the supplies. I grab the brush and start painting his face. About 20 minutes into doing his paint, he taps my arm.

"Honey, I need to go to the bathroom real quick."

I sigh looking at him moving out of his way.

"First, you made me mess up a little. Now, you have to go to the bathroom. I'm almost done."

He gets up walking to the bathroom. I set the brush down grabbing my phone. I start scrolling through my phone when I hear a faint knock at the door. I set my phone down on the vanity, walk over to the door and open it slightly. I see a man who is a little bit taller than me, half of his face painted, staring at me with wide eyes. I giggle looking at him smiling.

"Can I help you with something?"

"I was looking for Sting. We... we have a tag match in a couple minutes."

"Oh! You must be Darby! Come on in!"

I open the door for him, moving out of his way. He walks in and stops in the middle of the room, just watching me. I close the door and walk back over to the vanity, grabbing my phone. Sting comes out of the bathroom and sees Darby staring at me.

"Hey Darbs. I see you have met my daughter Y/N."

"Your daughter?"

"Yeah. Who did you think I was?"

I smile looking over at him. He awkwardly smiles back at me. Sting sits back down in the chair at the vanity.

"One of the makeup ladies or something."

Darby scratches the back of his neck looking over at us. I grab the brush and finish up Sting's paint giggling at Darby.

"Well, I'm a makeup lady for my dad."

"That's true Darbs."

There is a knock on the door than a backstage person yells that they have 2 minutes to get to gorilla. I hug my dad and he walks to the door. I turn, put my hand on Darby's arm and smile at him.

"It was nice to finally meet you. See you around."

I see him gulp, which makes me giggle. He shakes his head and follows Sting out of the room, who is laughing at him. I clean up his paint supplies than turn on the TV to watch their match. My mind keeps running about Darby.

_________________________________________

*at the hotel after AEW*

I grab my suitcase out of the back of the car as my dad grabs his suitcase and bag as well. We head inside up to the counter checking in. I look over at the waiting area seeing Darby sitting there looking upset. I hit my dad's arm than point over to him.

"I'll be right back Y/N. You grab the keys and stuff."

"Okay."

The lady starts giving me the keys and all the info when Sting walks back over with Darby.

"Hey. He will be staying in our room tonight."

I look at my dad than back at the lady behind the counter. She smiles and puts it into the computer. I back off letting my dad handle it looking over at Darby who is already looking at me.

"Long time. No see."

He slightly smiles, looking away from me. Sting turns around looking at us.

"Alright. Got it figured out. Let's go you two."

We grab our bags and head up to the room. Sting opens the door and lets me walk in first. I throw my bag on one of the beds as Sting throws his on the other bed. I look over at my dad than at Darby.

"Dad, where is Darbs supposed to sleep?"

He looks over at Darby than at me, pointing to my bed. I giggle looking over at Darby.

"Looks like we sharing Darbs."

"I can lay on the couch or the floor if you want."

I shake my head no smiling at him.

"We can share! It's fine!"

"Just no funny business. I'm right here."

"Dad. Gross."

Me and him laugh as Darby looks at both of us. I sit down on my side of the bed getting a shirt and shorts out for bed. I walk over to the bathroom, take off my bra, put on my shirt, and then my shorts. I walk out of the bathroom and flop down on my side of the bed. Darby takes off his shirt and pants only in his boxers and lays down on his side of the bed. I pull the blanket up and lay down. We all start falling asleep.

_________________________________________

*about 2 am*

I slowly wake up, moving my head slowly, feeling an arm around me. I see Darby's chest right next to my head, and his arm darped over me. I slowly slide my hand across his side and snuggle my head into his chest. I feel him move a little bit, snuggling his head into the top of my head. I smile closing my eyes falling back asleep.

_________________________________________

*later in the morning*

"Hey, you two cuddle bugs. It's time to get up."

I slowly move my head, moaning as my dad shakes both of us to wake up. Darby wraps his arm around me more, squeezing me into him.

"Leave us alone, old man."

I giggle, cuddling into Darby more. Sting sighs and goes to the kitchen. I look up at Darby, and he looks down at me.

"Can I tell you something, Y/N?"

"Of course."

"You may be the total opposite of me, but I like you a lot. These past 24 hours of getting to know you, I have felt this attraction to you that I have never felt before."

I giggle, looking up at him.

"Well, I like you a lot too, Darbs. One, you are very good with my dad which is a big thing to me. Second, you are a great cuddler."

I giggle, running my hand up his back. He smiles, looking down at me. He runs his hand up my neck, putting it on my cheek. He leans my head up and kisses me lightly. I kiss him back, still rubbing my hand on his back.

"Oh my gosh! Get a room!"

We jump, looking over at Sting standing at the end of the bed. I giggle, cuddling my head into Darby's chest. Darby huffs and pulls the blanket over our heads, causing Sting to laugh at us.

"Okay, well I'm gonna get going. See you guys later."

"Bye dad!"

I look up at Darby, and he looks down at me smiling. He leans down and kisses me again. I kiss him back, slightly smiling in-between the kissing.

I guess opposites do attract.

[hookhausenschips]

Can I request an Imagine or Headcanon of hook where you climb on him before putting his hoodie over your body so when you are getting overwhelmed letting him know that idk if that makes sense also you can add more

I sure can! I hope this is what you meant!

Y/N’s POV

I made it to Guerilla ready to head out for my match, Finally receiving my cue I walked out of the tunnel and was greeted by the loud cheers from the fans. I smiled and did my entrance on the way to the ring then waited for my opponent for the night, Skye Blue. It was always a great time facing a friend in the ring. She did her entrance and we waited for the bell and the ref to give us the signal before locking up.

I had just finished my match against Skye, it was a grueling fight. I had won by making her tap out. My body started to show the different hues of the bruises from the hits and chops. Being in my boyfriend’s arms was all I could think about while walking backstage. My brain was shot and the adrenaline was finally crashing down, this whole week leading up to this match had been stressful. “Hey there she is!” I heard a voice yell. Looking up I spotted the Lads standing together near catering. I smiled lightly at them, “Hey guys.” I whispered. Tyler looked at me as I tucked myself into his side as they continued talking. “You alright?” I heard Tyler mutter after a few minutes, I shook my head no as all the noises backstage started to overwhelm my senses. “Hey guys, we're going to head back to the locker room. I'll catch you later.” Tyler said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and we headed for his locker room after the guys said their goodbyes.  

Once we made it inside, Tyler ushered me to the couch. He pulled his phone out connecting his airpods, scrolling to find one of the many playlists to play. As he did that I climbed into his lap straddling him. I put the headphones into my ears as the music played through them. I then lifted his sweatshirt and placed it over myself, laying my head on his bare chest. I wrapped my arms around his waist, closing my eyes and letting my sense be engulfed by him. The smell of his cologne, the feel of his skin against mine, and the heat emitting from his body. I kissed the tattoo on the left side of his chest as a sign of thanking him. I felt him begin to rub my back and my body practically melted into him. I sighed and just let the music take over my mind.

I felt Tyler’s chest begin to vibrate and heard the door close, “Everything alright?” the voice I recognized as Taz asked. “Yeah, I think the match just got to her but she’s fine now. She’s resting.” Tyler replied. “Glad to hear, I was worried after her match she looked a little off behind the front she put on.” Taz said. I could feel Tyler nod, “Yeah this week hasn’t been the greatest.” “Well I’m glad she has you son to lean on and you, her. The show should be wrapping up here soon. You both don’t have anything else for tonight, go ahead and head back to the hotel. If anything comes up I’ll cover for it.” Taz said before patting his son’s shoulder and heading out. The music paused, “I know you’re awake under there. You ready to head back?” I sighed before leaving the sanctuary of his hoodie, wincing slightly at the bright lights of the locker room. I nodded, “Yeah I’ll change and we can head out.”

Walking back into our hotel room and setting our luggage by the door I grab his hand dragging him to the bed. Climbing into bed I lay next to him before once again lifting his hoodie and laying on his chest. “Thank you.” I whispered. “You don’t have to thank me. I will protect you from anything in this world if you let me. I’m here to help you through whatever is bothering you. Even if that means you are trying to crawl into my skin.” He replied. My heart swelled hearing him, the love I have for him growing tenfold if even possible. “I love you Tyler.” I declared before closing my eyes and letting the worries from today melt away.  “I love you too sweetheart, always will.” 

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Hook Taglist: @shawtys-things @gethooked

[sydsaint]

I had to do a fluffy Hook holiday fic

Summary: The reader faces the gloom of a lonely Holiday weekend until Tyler invites her to spend the weekend with the Senerchia family.

With the holidays fast approaching on the weekend, the AEW roster enjoy their last show before their small vacation. You've just finished up a match against Skye Blue and are headed backstage to the locker rooms when you run into Tyler hanging around. 

"Hey, Tyler." You wave at the stoic enigma that is Taz's heartthrob son. 

"Hey, Y/N." Tyler waves back at you, pushing off the wall at the same time. "Nice win over Skye, by the way." He adds. "I see that training with my dad has been paying off." 

You bounce on your feet with an eager smile. "It really has!" You agree. "I've been feeling so much more confident in the ring since Taz started giving me pointers. And training with you probably helped as well. Only a little though." You joke with a laugh. 

"Well, my dad is the mastermind, not me, after all." Tyler jokes with you. "Anyway. What are you doing this weekend? Any plans for the holidays?" He casually asks. 

"No, not really." You shrug. "My mom and stepdad are going to the Bahamas for a week. And I guess they assumed that I'd be busy. Because they didn't invite me." You explain, trying to hide the disappointment in your tone.

Tyler's eyebrows twitch in surprise at your answer. He can tell that you're faking a carefree smile, and he hates seeing you upset. "Damn, Y/N. That sucks." Tyler frowns. 

"You're telling me." Your voice cracks as you fake another laugh. "Anyway. I totally need to grab a shower. So, I'll talk to you later, Ty." You quickly dismiss yourself before the urge to cry rears its ugly head. 

Tyler silently watches you hurry past him toward the locker rooms. His jaw twitches in frustration that he didn't stop you. But an idea pops into his head and he takes off to find Taz before the show ends. 

After some searching, Tyler finds his dad hanging out in catering before the Rampage taping starts. 

"Tyler! What's going on, kid?" Taz greets his kid with a friendly smile. 

"Hey, Dad." Tyler nods and sits down next to him. "I actually came by to run an idea by you." He explains. 

Taz nods and sets down his phone. "Alright. What's up?" He asks Tyler. 

"I was just talking to Y/N after her match with Skye about the holidays, right?" Tyler explains. "And apparently her mom ditched her for the holiday for a trip to the Bahamas. And you know that Y/N is an only child." He adds. "So I was wondering if you cared if I invited Y/N to come home with us for the weekend?"

A chuckle falls from Taz's lips at Tyler's request. He's been training you for around 6 months now. You and Tyler have slowly been building quite an interesting friendship. 

"Of course, I don't mind!" Taz laughs. "I'm sure that your mom would love to have another kid around for the Holiday." He assures Tyler. 

"Cool." Tyler nods. "I'm gonna go ask her right now. I'll text you later, Dad." He takes off with his answer to find you.

Back in the locker rooms you come out of the shower and begin packing up to leave. Your mind is occupied with thoughts about how you're going to spend your holiday weekend alone so it takes a moment to realize someone is knocking on the door. 

"Crap!" You curse and hurry to the door when you finally hear the knocking. "Yeah? Oh! Hey, Tyler." You find Tyler standing on the other side of the door. "Come in." You step aside and let him in the locker room. 

"Thanks, Y/N." Tyler smiles and steps inside the room.

You shut the door and turn back into the room. Tyler has made himself at home in a chair next to your bags. "So." You walk over to him. "What's up?" You ask casually. 

"Yeah, so, I felt kind of bad that you have to spend the holidays alone," Tyler explains. "So I asked my dad if he was cool with you coming home with us. And he said that he'd love to have you. Only if you want though." 

"Oh!" You reply with surprise. "That's really nice of you and Taz, Tyler." You admit sheepishly. 

Tyler nods, realizing that he might be acting a little forward with you. "Sorry. Like I said, it's only if you want." He assures you. 

"I know!" You nod. "Yeah, I'd love to come home with you guys if it's really no trouble." You agree to his offer. 

"It's not. Trust me." Tyler chuckles. "My dad really likes you! Maybe even more than me." He jokes. "And my mom is bound to like you too." He adds. 

You and Tyler fine-tune your travel plans and the next morning you are on the plane back to New York with Taz and Tyler. 

Upon your arrival, Tyler shows you around the house and to the guest bedroom where you'll be staying for the weekend. "I'll let you get your stuff put away." Tyler leaves you at the door of the guest room. "My room is right across the hall." He points to the closed door directly across the hall. "So just let me know if you need anything." 

You and Tyler are busy putting your stuff away upstairs so Taz takes some time to talk with his wife. 

"She's awfully cute," Theresa comments on you, having only briefly seen Tyler drag you up the stairs upon arrival. "And Tyler seems to really like her." She adds. 

"Oh, there is definitely something there, yes." Taz chuckles. "But don't tell Tyler that. Because he'll just deny it." 

Taz and his wife both laugh and catch up for a bit. A while later you and Tyler come back down the stairs after having settled in a bit. 

"You have a lovely home, Mrs. Sererchia." You compliment Tyler's mom with a friendly smile.

"Thank you, sweetie." Theresa smiles back at you. "I hope that you can enjoy yourself this weekend. And get some much-needed rest." She adds. 

You match the woman's warm smile and nod. "I'm sure that I will. It's really cozy here." You admit. 

Over the weekend Tyler introduced you to some of the Holiday traditions of the Senerchia family. You help decorate the tree and house, bake cookies, and see a parade. On Christmas Eve you play some games with the family and share drinks before Taz and his wife head to bed for the night. 

You and Tyler stay up and watch a few movies while casually chatting about work and some other stuff. 

"This was a really nice weekend, Tyler. Thank you for inviting me over." You thank Tyler from your spot snuggled up on the couch beside him. 

"Yeah, this weekend was really nice." Tyler agrees with you. "What time is it?" He asks and glances at the clock on the wall. 

You glance at the clock on the wall in the dimly lit room. "It's almost 2 am." You answer him. "Why?"

"So it's officially Christmas then?" Tyler replies. 

"Yeah. Again, why?" You ask him again. 

Tyler slips off the couch in almost a hurry before he turns to you. "I'll be right back. Stay here." He asks you. 

You nod and watch Tyler hurry up the stairs. With him gone, you sit up on the couch and wonder where he's gone in such a hurry. A few seconds later you hear him fly down the stairs and rush back to your side with something in his hand. 

"Here!" Tyler shoves a small wrapped present your way. 

"You got me a gift?" You take the present from him gently. "Awe, Tyler. I didn't get you anything though." 

Tyler shakes his head and gestures for you to open it. "It's fine!" He insists. "Just open it now so I don't have to listen to my mom bug me about it in the morning." He asks you.

"Okay." You nod and unwrap the paper to reveal a velvet box. Your heart skips a beat as you open the box and find a necklace inside that sparkles in the room's low light. "Oh my god, Tyler." You look back up at him watching you intently. 

"Do you like it?" Tyler asks you. As if the look on your face isn't enough. 

Flabbergasted by the expensive sparkling necklace in front of you, words seem impossible for a moment. "Ty, of course, I like it! It's beautiful!" You assure him once you've regained the ability to talk. 

"Great! I knew you would!" Tyler beams. "Here, let me put it on you." He gently picks the chain up and moves to help fasten it around your neck. 

Tyler secures the clasp into place and steps back. You look down at your chest and admire the way it sparkles against your skin. "Now I really feel bad that I didn't get you anything." You bite the inside of your lip sheepishly. 

"You're here," Tyler replies and steps closer to you. "And that's kind of all I wanted for Christmas." He admits. 

"Just me?" You answer him with an amused smile. 

"Just you," Tyler confirms and leans in for a kiss. 

[99hook]

Confessions

Synopsis: Hook is having a bad day and just wants y/n’s attention, but so does someone else

Warnings: cursing

A/N: literally something that popped into my head nobody asked for. I hope you loveee it! Happy Forbidden Door day loves

Hook was going through it today. From the moment his eyes opened in the morning, anything that could’ve possibly gone wrong; went wrong.

That’s why he’s got attitude written all over his face, more than the usual. A shattered phone screen from dropping it on the concrete outside his hotel, a large stain on his shirt and sticky skin beneath from spilling his drink and not having time to shower before needing to arrive at the arena and to top it all off, he rounds the corner and finds you laughing at something Jack says.

Jack isn’t even funny.

He watched as the two of you were cutting up about something that was probably just a way for Jack to try and make a move on you. You were his friend, just like you were Hook’s but something about the look in Jack’s eye paired with the heartfelt laughs echoing down the hall made Hook’s ears burn. He didn’t like what he was seeing.

He watched with narrowed eyes as Jack discretely took a step closer to you. The two of you were way too close for comfort and it was taking Hook’s bad mood and tripling it. If anyone knew what Jack was trying to do, it was Hook. It was obvious he was trying to make a move on you. The lame joke he probably told you was his first little attempt and even though Hook had no grounds to be angry about it, he still was, and he didn’t care if he showed it or not.

His feelings for you were secretly bottled up and it has been that way for months now. He’s come close to confessing but every time he does he gets tongue tied. Nobody knows that but him, so it wasn’t like he told Jack and Jack still tried to get with you. But still, wasn’t okay to Hook.

In the midst of another eruption of laughter Hook clears his throat from behind Jack and earns your attention. There’s a look on Hook’s face that screams pissed off and he doesn’t try to mask it.

“Hey man” Jack slaps a hand on Hook’s shoulder making him tense up immediately. He knows he has no actual right to be mad at Jack right now but that doesn’t stop him from jerking his shoulder to get his hand off of him before he might actually break it off.

There was a look that crossed Jack’s face but he didn’t ask what was wrong. Hook ignored Jack’s stare and focused on you instead. He already knew you could tell something was going on with him like you always did. One thing that draws Hook to you like a magnet is the fact you can read him like a book, even when he doesn’t understand his feelings himself.

One look at his dark eyes and the way his lips were pulled in a thin, tight line and you could see that something was bothering him horribly.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, Y/N?” Hook asked, emphasizing your name as a non suggestive way to get Jack to leave. He took the hint but not without shooting another questionable glare Hook’s way.

“I’ll catch you later, Y/N.” Jack muttered before he walked off, leaving just you and the boy glaring down at you for reasons you didn’t understand.

“You okay?” You asked, wanting to reach out and rub your hand down his arm, or something that could maybe comfort him in some way but your hesitation kept you from it.

Hook inhaled a deep breath and exhaled an annoyed sigh before he simply shook his head. Truth be told, all he wanted was to see you, be the one laughing in the hallway at some stupid joke with you because you always had a way of brightening his whole entire day no matter how horrible it might be, and now he’s realizing that he has to do something before someone else does. Whether that be Jack or anyone else in the world.

“Well, what’s wrong?” You asked, wanting to take a step closer to him, but feeling as though your feet were nailed to the ground. You weren’t sure how to act or what to say or do, because the way Hook is staring down at you with a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen from him before made you feel like he was angry with you, or something along those lines.

“Do you and Jack have something going on?” He mustered enough courage to ask, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He watched as your brows knitted together and a look of genuine confusion crossed your face. He didn’t expect that you would ever lie to him, but he searched for the signs anyway.

“What? No. Why would you think that?” You asked, noting the way he seemed to somewhat relax his clenched jaw and stiff shoulders.

“I saw y’all cutting up down here, so I just thought-“ he cut himself off, feeling both relieved and now unsure how to go about this conversation without seeming like a total dick.

“Is that why you’re acting weird?” You asked, unsure if you were piecing the puzzle together or not. Hook being jealous of jungleboy made no sense… unless.

“I’m not acting weird.” He deadpanned. “I was just gonna say hes my boy and all but I don’t really think he’d be a good guy for you, personally.”

You stared up at him, unsure if you believed anything that he was saying. Hook avoided your stare and instead averted his attention to the hallway as if he was waiting for someone to show up and save him from having to have this conversation that made him feel incredible vulnerable and nervous, which was unfamiliar and uncomfortable territory for him.

“Mm.” You hummed, and he heard the skepticism in your voice. He knew you didn’t believe the bullshit he was feeding you. You crossed your arms and he caught sight of the way you were squinting at him, which he knew was something you did when you were thinking hard about something.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, mimicking the way you were looking by squinting his own eyes and crossing his arms.

“I mean you’re obviously lying to me.” You chuckled, noting the way his cheeks tinge red.

“I don’t lie. Especially not to you.” He replied, suddenly feeling extremely nervous and maybe even a little shaky. He tucked his hands tight into the folds of his arms so you couldn’t see if they were starting to tremble or not. An affect only you ever had on him.

“No?” You tested, taking a step forward. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed but he was doing his best to keep that poker face on.

“Nope.” He nearly mumbled, slicking his tongue over the dryness of his plump lips as he looked down on you, into your wide and round eyes he never seems to be able to get enough of.

“Mm.” You hummed again. Nothing but skepticism filling your voice and he acted like he didn’t notice it.

“Mm?” He mimicked. “Mm what?”

You couldn’t help but let a smile creep up to your lips, which confused him. “What?” He asked again.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, realizing that what everyone had been telling you was true.

“Tyler-“ the use of his real name suddenly had his heart hammering in his chest. It wasn’t often that you called him that, but he loved it every single time.

“Y/N.” His voice was a little shakier than he would have liked. He instantly cleared his throat and hoped you didn’t realize that he’s a ball of anxiousness because of you right now.

“Do you want to stop playing games and tell each other the truth now, or what?” You took another step closer, leaving you only mere inches apart. Hook was taken back by your sudden boldness and was left tongue tied like he always gets when he’s so close to finally, finally confessing his feelings for you.

Looking up into his round, dark eyes you can see that he was having all kinds of emotions coursing through him and it was likely you weren’t going to get a confession out of him first.

“You know what me and Jack were talking about before you showed up?” You asked, watching as Hook’s brows knitted and that tension returned to his face at just the mention of Jack’s name.

“Hm.” He hummed sternly.

“We were talking about you, and how you and I need to finally stop acting like nervous middle schoolers and finally admit how we feel about each other, because apparently we’re a hot topic around this place. Apparently we’ve been madly in love with each other from day one and everyone knows it but us.”

You laughed your way through the confession that wasn’t as much of one as you wanted it to be, and Hook wasn’t sure whether to take that and run with it or keep those feelings bottled up inside. As much as he wanted to admit everything to you, he still wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same way for him, and the last thing he wanted was to lose his best friend completely.

“That’s- damn. Didn’t know we were like, talked about so much.” He shifted on his feet as the nervousness crashed through him in another strong, unsteady wave.

“Me either.” You suddenly felt too nervous to look into his eyes. Your attention adverts to the floor where the tops of his shoes and yours were just a few centimeters from touching. Picking your head up you realize he was even closer now, and there was so much to be said but suddenly you couldn’t even fathom a single word.

Hook’s calloused hands cupped your cheeks gently. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, tell me now.” His raspy voice let out in a low, strong whisper. Your lips parted as if you were going to speak but nothing came out and as he moved in closer, you raised up on your tip toes and there was only a split second that passed before you felt his soft, plump lips land on yours, and as gentle as the kiss was, it ignited something extremely powerful within both of you instantly.

The taste of two types of mints lingered and intermingled between your mouth and his and it was going to be a flavor you craved from here on out.

Months. You both thought about this exact moment for months and finally it was happening and it was even better than your dreamiest fantasy. Hook was gentle and slow and the softness of his lips paired with the rough stubble prickling your skin was an experience all on its own. It was everything you never knew you needed and when he pulled away, you instantly craved him again.

His hands stayed cupping your cheeks as his thumbs gently dusted over your smooth skin, admiring secretly how silky smooth it was beneath the calloused pads. There wasn’t much you two could even fathom at that moment, both way too taken back to form words, and you were about to lean in again when you heard slow clapping from down the hallway.

You two immediately broke apart and put as much distance as possible between each other, Hook’s cheeks reddened deeply matching yours when you saw that the claps belonged to Taz.

“It’s about damn time.” He belted out with a hearty laugh that boomed down the hallway. “I hate to break up this love fest but Hook, your match is up next.”

That’s when Hook glanced at his watch and realized the time. He had two minutes to get to the gorilla. “Shit.” He muttered. “Can I meet you back here afterwards?” He asked, and you quickly nodded, unable to keep your smile from spreading widely across your face. Hook nodded back, then leaned in and placed a quick peck to your cheek before rushing off down the hallway to a waiting, smiling taz.

He threw his arm around his son as they headed towards the gorilla, and before they disappeared you heard the words, “You finally did it son. Fucking finally!”

[haddonfieldwhore]

if we’ve got eachother - mjf

mjf x gender neutral! cole! reader

part one here • part two here

word count: 2.5k

warnings: not edited, bit of family drama, angst, language, nsfw themes/implied smut !

a week had gone by since adam found out about you and max, and you and your brother were effectively ignoring eachother completely. him and max had to be at least professional enough to do their segments together, but didn’t speak to eachother outside of work business. you hated that you had come between their friendship, but you also felt like adam was overreacting. there was a week long break coming up, and you knew adam was going him to see your parents; usually you would go with him, but this time you weren’t sure you really wanted to spend seven days in a house with him, along with your parents asking why you were fighting. your mom had actually been calling and texting you, asking if she could expect you home for the break, but you had ignored all of her messages.

“what are you thinking about?” max asked, snapping you out of your trance as he walked out of the bathroom, fresh out of the shower. his skin was still damp, nothing but a fluffy white towel around his waist as he used a smaller one to dry off his curly hair. max had been travelling with you rather than adam since things kind of exploded last week.

you raised an eyebrow, unable to stop yourself from staring at his chiseled abs, and the happy trail that started at his naval and disappeared under the towel.

“well now i’m thinking about something else…” you said, sitting up on the bed as max walked over to you, leaning down to kiss your lips.

“oh yeah? what’s that?” he smirked, and your hands reached for the towel that hung low on his hips. his hands cradled either side of your jaw as you let the towel fall to the floor, and he kissed you deeply. max pulled your shirt over your head, before wrapping a hand around your throat and pulling you up onto your knees, kissing you again. your hands tangled in his damp curls, and his tongue slipped past your lips to explore your mouth, that taste of mint toothpaste on his tongue.

you were interrupted by a knock at the door, and max sighed, kissing you one more time before he turned and started walking towards the door. you slid your shirt back on, making yourself look at least decent.

“i’ll get it,” you laughed pushing him around the corner out of view of the doorway, and throwing the towel at him. you were still smiling when you opened the door, but it disappeared completely at the sight of adam.

“y/n,” he began, greeted you with an awkward nod. you shifted your weight nervously back and forth on your feet.

“so you’re talking to me again?” you asked, and adam sighed.

“i … don’t know. i do need to ask you about next week though.”

“so mom sent you? that’s adorable,” you laughed, annoyed.

“can we set this aside- for one week; for her sake?” he asked, and you laughed in disbelief. of course you wanted to see your parents, but you were stubborn to your core.

“i don’t know adam. you’re the one who has an issue with me and max being together.” he sighed, running a hand through his long hair.

“i have an issue with the fact that you and my best friend betrayed me-“

“oh get over yourself. we didn’t get together just to spite you, adam. do you hear yourself? yes, we were wrong to hide it from you, i can admit that; but i wouldn’t take back what i did.”

“so you aren’t coming home?” he asked.

“i’ll think about it.”

“no you won’t. you’ve already decided; i know you.” adam spat. “at least call mom and have the guts to tell her you’re choosing a guy over your family.”

“don’t talk to them like that,” max appeared behind you, his lower half dressed in a pair of shorts.

“max,” adam greeted awkwardly. “this is a family conversation.”

“oh- please continue,” max taunted, not leaving your side.

“actually i think we’re done here,” you said, closing the door on your brother. max turned you to face him, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug.

“you okay?” he asked, kissing the top of your head. you nodded into his chest, before pulling back to kiss his lips softly.

“yeah. thank you for having my back, even though you don’t have to protect me from adam.”

“i know,” he said, kissing the top of your nose. “are you going home next week?” he asked, and you sighed flopping onto your stomach on the bed.

“i don’t think so. i don’t want to spend a week with someone who won’t talk to me,” you mumbled. max crawled onto the bed, hovering over top of you and placing kisses along your shoulder and up the side of your neck to your ear.

“come home with me instead,” he whispered, nipping at the shell of your ear. you couldn’t hold back the moan that left your lips as max pressed himself against your backside. max rolled over, pulling you with him until you straddled his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you close.

“you don’t think we’ll get sick of eachother if we spend a week together?” you teased, as max placed wet kissed on your neck, finding your sweet spot with ease.

“fuck no,” he laughed.

•••

you had in fact decided to spend the week off at max’s house with him, and the two of you had just arrived, pulling into the driveway in max’s blue camaro. when you entered the house, a fluffy white and tortoiseshell cat ran up to max, weaving in and out of his feet and meowing.

“hey piper,”max laughed, bending down to pick up the cat. “daddy’s home. did you miss me?” he bombarded the cat with kisses on her forehead, and you laughed.

“daddy?” you raised an eyebrow.

“shut up, you love it,” he smirked, and turned the cat towards you. “this is piper.” you extended a hand gently for the cat to sniff, and she let you pat her on the top of the head.

“hi piper,” you smiled. max placed her softly on the ground, and led you further into the house. it was minimally decorated, which made sense considering how many days of the year he would actually be home. there was a large cream coloured couch in the center of the living room, that had a wall of large windows.

“you’re gonna have two cuddle buddies now,” max was still talking to piper as you sat down on the soft couch, and the cat hopped up into your lap. “she likes you,” max smiled, and sat next to you in the couch, tucking you under his arm. piper walked back and worth across both of your laps, before laying down on the arm rest.

“she’s cute,” you beamed, and max kissed your lips softly.

“you’re cute.” you giggled as he kissed your forehead and then your lips again.

“did you hit your head or something? what’s got you in such a good mood?” you laughed, although you weren’t complaining; you could get used to the softer side of max.

“no,” he smirked, easily pushing you over to pin him underneath you on the couch. “why, how do you want me to be?” he stared down at you, his brown eyes darker than usual.

“i just didn’t know the devil could be such a softie, that’s all,” you explained playfully, knowing you were pushing his buttons.

“careful,” he warned, a hand wrapping gently but firmly around your throat as you stared up at him, your eyes wide with excitement. “you’re gonna get yourself in trouble. unless that’s what you’re trying to do?”

“you tell me, daddy.” you teased, and he groaned, his grip tightening around your neck before he relaxed.

“you are driving me crazy,” he rolled his eyes, leaning down to kiss you. your teeth pulled at his bottom lip as his hand moved from your neck to cradle the side of your face.

“i can’t believe i get you all to myself for a whole week,” you exhaled as max left a trail of kisses down the side of your neck, leaving soft love bites behind.

“i hope you don’t like walking-“ you interrupted him with another kiss, and you could feel him smirking against your lips. your phone began to ring in your bag, and you sighed heavily. “don’t answer that,” max whispered next to your ear, his hands trailing down your sides to pull you hips upward against his.

“what if it’s important?” you asked, letting out a moan as he rutted his hips against yours.

“it can wait,” he growled, and his fingers began undoing your pants.

“max…”

“tell me if you want me to stop,” his voice sent a shiver down your spine as he slid your pants down, biting down on the skin below your jaw.

“fuck- please max,” you begged, unable to think straight.

“please what, baby?” he asked as his hand disappeared into your underwear.

“don’t stop.” max smiled before kissing you roughly, as your phone stopped ringing.

•••

you were peacefully face down in max’s bed, the soft blankets the only thing covering your body as you lay there, waking up from a nap after max had given you a very… thorough.. tour of his house. your eyes fluttered open at the sound of max getting out of the shower, the bathroom door opening with a soft click, and you looked up to see him, only his lower half dressed as he walked over to you. max leaned down and gently kissed the side of your head, and you smiled, waking up fully and rolling over to sit up against the headboard.

“hey sleepyhead, late night?” max teased, and you looked over at the clock that read 11:23 am, meaning you had only been asleep for about an hour, having fallen asleep after you and max had spent the entire morning breaking in his new mattress so to speak.

“shut up, don’t tease me when it’s your fault,” you pouted, pulling the blanket up higher. max laughed, raising his hands in mock innocence, kissing you sweetly on the lips.

“i’m sorry baby. you feel okay?” he asked sincerely, and you nodded.

“yeah, i’m great,” you smiled. “are you okay?”

“yeah baby i’m okay,” he smiled, kissing your forehead and then your lips again. “by the way, your phone has been going off for like an hour.”

you sighed, and max handed you one of his tshirts to wear as you got out of bed. max smiled to himself at the way your legs wobbled slightly as you walked, but didn’t mention it, deciding he had teased you enough. you walked over to your suitcase and dressed the rest of your body in your underwear and some shorts, before digging you phone out of your bag and checking the many notifications you had missed. there was about 20 text messages from your mom, a few from adam, and about 12 missed calls between the two of them. the ones from your mom were asking where you were, with increasing concern; you gathered that adam hadn’t told her you weren’t coming. reading through the ones he had sent confirmed your suspicion. you sighed, but clicked on your moms contact and put the phone to your ear, listening to it ring until she answered.

“y/n! sweetie i’ve been calling you! did you get my texts? why aren’t you home for the break?” she asked, concern in her voice.

“relax mom,” you laughed. “i’m sorry, adam was supposed to let you know i wouldn’t be there this time. i’m sorry to worry you,” you lied, only feeling a little guilty about throwing your brother under the bus.

“oh - he said he thought you were coming. i’ll have to talk to him,” she said. “anyways, what’s keeping you away? is there a boy?” she asked in a playful tone, and you smiled, looking over at max who was on the other side of the room, scrolling through his phone, paying no attention.

“yeah, actually - there is.”

“that’s great honey! are you spending your vacation together?” she asked.

“yeah, i’m actually with him at his house for a few days,” you explained. you knew she didn’t watch the show every week, but still hoped she didn’t ask too many questions about max. his reputation, at least in regards to the character he portrayed, wasn’t the best and would definitely concern your mother; nevermind the fact that him and adam were friends. thankfully, she didn’t ask for too many details.

“well i’m sad we won’t be seeing you, but i hope you’re having fun sweetie! be safe, and if something happens and you need to come home you’re always welcome.” you felt a pang in your heart, missing home and your family.

“thanks mom. i love you, and i promise next time i have time off i’ll be there.”

“i love you too, honey. me and your dad will see you then. maybe you can bring this boy of yours next time.” you smiled, glancing over at max again who looked up at your and sent you a wink, and you laughed softly.

“we’ll see mom. i’ll talk to you later okay?”

“bye sweetie,” she replied before you hung up. you considered calling adam as well, but decided you didn’t want to speak to him, sending him a text instead.

‘talked to mom. she’s happy for me.’

you put your phone back in your bag without waiting for a reply, and walked (still with some difficulty) over to max, who looked up at you from the chair he was sitting in.

“all good? your family’s not gonna send the cops here to arrest me for kidnapping you?” he asked, and you sat down in his lap, and his arms wrapped around your waist immediately.

“no i think you’re safe for now. unless adam calls them,” you joked. “my mom wants me to bring you home, so i think she’s on our side. i didn’t exactly tell her who you are though.”

“what can i say, moms love me.” you slapped his chest gently as you both laughed. “she’s doesn’t need to know all the little details just yet.”

“agreed. i just hope adam calms down about it. i hate that i’ve come in between you guys.”

“i know baby. he’ll get over it,” max said, kissing your cheek.

“i hope so,” you sighed. “enough about my family drama. what’s the plan for today?”

“hmmm i think we can do whatever we want,” max said, kissing your neck softly.

“i like the sound of that. i need to shower first though,” you giggled as his kissed tickled your skin. max let go of you, allowing you to stand up and walk to the bathroom. you turned the water on, before peeking back out into the bedroom.

“you coming?” you smirked, and max threw his phone aside and hurried over to join you, and you smiled. things may not be perfect, but you were happier than you had been in a long time, and as long as you and max had eachother, you knew you would be fine.

🏷️ taglist: @frodhoebagginit

[spine-buster]

portofino ft. kenny omega

gif credit @/stukky

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

10th May 2023

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

You were crying again.

At this point, you were basically just leaking.

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

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

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

The pep talk didn’t help much.

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Not in the slightest.”

***

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine,” you lied.  “Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

“When was that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.  What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hazel—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hazel—”

“Sit still.”

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

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

“Can I stick around tonight?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Thank you for last night,” he said.

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

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

***

11th May 2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your wrestling career was over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Are you sure?  Need to talk?

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

***

It all began with Portofino. 

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

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

He was 28 at the time.  You were 20.

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

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

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

He looked out for you.  He always did.

He always would.

***

PORTOFINO, 2014

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nick can barely speak English.”

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

“I’m terrified.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded his head.

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

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

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

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

“My dad was from around here, remember?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m having the time of my life.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

*

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

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

You, on the other hand, could not. 

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

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

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

“Hazel?”

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

“Nah,” he said.  “Can you?”

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

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

“Both.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

“I feel like you’re lying to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

“It was perfect.”

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “Of course I did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—Oh shit.”

You paused.  “What?”

“—ohshitohshitohshit—”

“—What?!—”

“—Hold on!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

28th May 2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, apparently, Will Ospreay. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Eat, Hazel.  I got you.”

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

“Why are you apologizing?”

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.  I mean it.”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—Oh fuck—” a female voice exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he asked incredulously.

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

“Ty, come on—”

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

“Ty—”

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

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

“Nothing.  You did the right thing.”

***

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

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

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

“—You’re not making me mad—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—Do not stop me.”

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

“—Yes I fucking am—”

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

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

“Go back to the bed—”

“—Hazel—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

TOKYO 2016

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

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

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

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

“Can I come in?”

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

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

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

“Doesn’t it feel amazing?” you asked.

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

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

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

“—It’s okay—”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry Tys—”

“—Hazel, it’s alright.  It’s okay.”

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

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

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

“I bet you do secretly.”

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

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

“What was that about?”

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

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

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

Neck hurts like a motherfucker.

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

What are you, my dad?

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

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

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

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

Tyson’s jaw dropped.  “You jezebel!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tys—”

“It wasn’t you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

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

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

“I’ll do it, Ty.  I don’t mi—”

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

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

He shook his head.  “That’s not it.”

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

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

“Remember Portofino?”

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

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

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

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

“Haze…”

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You feel fucking incredible,” he whispered.

“You want me to take my top off?”

“Yes please.”

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

“You’re so beautiful, Hazel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep going, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know.”

*

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

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

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

Tyson shrugged.  “Yeah, well…”

“She doing okay?”

“She’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

Nick grimaced.  “Why not?”

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

***

25th June 2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tyson finally noticed.

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

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

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

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

“—Hazel—”

“—No—”

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

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

“My neck is fine—”

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

“Haze, I’m sor—”

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

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

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

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

Will fucking Ospreay.

Okay, now you were livid.

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

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

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

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

“Well you’re going to see me anyway!”

“Will you calm down—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

Hazel

Gonna spend some extra time with my mom

I need to talk to you

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

I couldn’t care less about that He deserved it

Am I still allowed to come to the cottage?

Obviously Hazel What makes you think you wouldn’t?

I don’t know The way I spoke to you

***

30th June 2023

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

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

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

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

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

“You never have food.”

“I have food!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Apologize!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

And then…

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

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

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

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

“I know,” he said. 

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

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

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

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

“Wow, using my full name?”

“You deserve it.”

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

“I was trying to punch your dick.”

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

“—do not say my middle name—”

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

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

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

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

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

You both giggled.  Then silence.  You were close.

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

“—It’s okay—”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry Haz—”

“—Tys, it’s alright.  It’s okay.”

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

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

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

“Let’s go inside.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ty—”

“—I can’t do this.”

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

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

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

“What’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—a nail bed?!—”

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

Your tears began almost instantaneously.  “Tyson—”

“—I know, I know—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you want the same?”

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

“Yeah…”

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

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

“I want it to be the right time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“You gonna let me taste you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No no, I really want you to.”

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

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

“You’re so beautiful, Hazel.”

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

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

“You alright?” he asked quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Christ almighty, Ty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded.  “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

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

“But?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby, I’m just getting warmed up.”

***

19th July 2023

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” he whispered. 

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

“Does it look bad?”

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

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

“I love you too.”

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

Everything was okay.  Everything was alright. 

[arandomaewblog]

this is my first time posting anything in the AEW fandom so please be nice! this is also just me trying to not lose my mind while being around my family for the next three days so if it's not good I blame it on that

basically this is a situation in which you've been friends with the AEW roster for so long that even though you're not a wrestler yourself you still get invited to hang out with them or whatever; I'm trying really hard not to overthink the plot because if I do that I'm never gonna write anything so just like take it with a grain of salt and tilt your head and squint or whatever

I'm rambling so here's you and Hook making out in a closet. enjoy.

****

"Name of the game is Seven Minutes in Heaven!"

Everyone in the room groans.

"Stop trying to get everyone to make out, Max!" Bowens shouts, but Max ignores him.

"It's not me!" he swears, holding his hands up in front of himself defensively. "It's all up to the bottle!" Max gestures to the empty Tito's bottle in the middle of the table. Bowens just rolls his eyes and lets it happen.

You start by just watching everyone else play - some of the pairings are ridiculous and would probably be do-overs if Max wasn't in charge, but he is, so there are no do-overs. Whoever the bottle lands on is who it lands on. No exceptions.

It's fine and fun and you're having a great time until it's your turn and the bottle ends up pointing at the guy you've had a crush on for months but haven't really spoken to all that much because he keeps to himself most of the time: Hook.

"Shit," you say to yourself, knowing nobody else in the room could have possibly heard it because Max is YELLING, all but shoving you and Hook into the closet himself. (Well, he tries guiding Hook, but Hook snatches his arm away and turns to face Max so fast that Max immediately takes his hand off and backs up a couple steps.) You open the door and step in, thankful that it's more of a walk-in closet situation so you have more room to back up and let Hook in after you. The doors must have some sort of soundproofing on them, or just be really thick, because when the door closes behind him, it's almost completely silent. You don't know what to do, mostly because being this close to the man you've been crushing on for months is...overwhelming, to say the least.

"So, uh..." Hook starts, his voice softer than you were anticipating, "what do you wanna do?" He looks up at you, hood still up and hair all in his face like normal, and fuck so handsome.

Not freak out and make you think I'm a weirdo, you think, but say something completely different and totally unexpected, even to yourself: "Can I say something?"

He nods.

You take a deep breath. "I know we don't know each other that well because we never really talk but I've had the biggest crush on you for months now and I don't know if you're that kind of guy, we can definitely talk about it later if you want, but all I want right now is for you to grab my face and kiss me until neither of us can breathe and I forget about all the people out there."

It's dark in the closet, so you have no idea what expression Hook has on his face right now, but he doesn't say anything right away. You're about to backtrack when he speaks.

"Too many people for you, too?"

His answer catches you by surprise, but it makes sense that he'd also be overwhelmed by it all. "Yeah," you say, softly, and you gasp when he steps into your space, your faces so close but still so far away.

"You wanna forget about 'em?" he asks, softly taking hold of your chin and tilting your head to look at him. All you can do is nod and try not to buckle at the knees when he cups your jaw and moves in closer.

"Let me help."

Thinking back on it later, you were expecting him to kiss like he fights: methodical, calculating, always three steps ahead of his competitor - but it's the exact opposite. He's methodical and almost cautious, yeah, but there's an uncertainty in the way he leans in, a small gasp of surprise when his lips finally meet yours, something that feels like relief when you start kissing him back.

Honestly? It's better than you'd imagined, and boy have you imagined it a lot. His lips are soft, his hands gentle, one holding your jaw and the other slipping around to your lower back. It starts as little individual kisses, and you'd be cool if it stayed that way for the whole time but something happens that makes you gasp, which leads to Hook softly biting into your bottom lip, and at that point all bets are off. The mild sting makes you groan, which makes Hook chuckle, a rumble deep in his chest like he's amused.

"Oh, you like that?" he asks teasingly, and again, all you can do is nod.

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

Painted Him Perfect

Pairing: Austin Gunn x ex-wife!reader

Category: Angst

Word count: 824

Summary: You finally decide it’s time to be honest about your marriage with Austin Gunn. About how you painted him perfect.

Warnings: None

A/N: I know it’s been 63936383629 years since I last posted a fic 🤣 but here I am! Based off Painted Him Perfect by Alexandra Kay

Masterlist

Taglist

Moodboard is not mine. Credit goes to @katries 😘

There he was, your ex-husband, laughing with his friends like everything was perfect. Perfect. If only they knew just how perfect their buddy Austin Gunn truly was.

You knew after these past several months it was time to be honest. It was time to be honest with your friends, with your family.

The honest truth is that no matter how many times you sang his praises, drove or flew hours and hours to see him, he would mention over and over how he hated the attention. You didn’t understand because you thought that was what he wanted.

Arguments were more common between you two than they should have been. Couples therapy didn’t do any good no matter how hard you tried, tears in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks. Austin never really tried to make it work, never told his truth in therapy. That was rock bottom for you, for your marriage. His true colors and true character shone bright in that therapist’s office. That’s when you knew it was over, when you knew you couldn’t keep painting him perfect, when he couldn’t even attempt to make an effort to work on the relationship. A relationship that you thought was true love but it was all just a slap in the face.

Kris Statlander and Willow Nightingale were two of your closest friends. You met them through Austin so maybe you have one good thing to come out quite possibly the worst relationship you’ve ever been in.

“Hey!” You heard Willow’s upbeat voice coming from your left.

“Hey.” You sighed. Now is the time to tell them. They’re your best friends, plus you have nothing to hide. You fought tooth and nail for your marriage to get better, to please Austin in order to keep the storm clouds away.

“I know that voice. What’s wrong?” Kris was never one to beat around the bush. She noticed you haven’t made any effort to look their way. Her eyes followed yours and she knew immediately who you were looking at. Austin Gunn and the rest of Bullet Club Gold. “You two have an argument?” Kris turned back to you, her head tilted as she studied your face.

Understatement of the century.

Willow shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it. I think maybe—”

“I need to be honest here girls.” You finally looked at your friends and you saw you had their undivided attention, so you let the floodgates fall. Maybe you should have went somewhere more private than roughly 8 feet away from the Bang Bang Gang but part of you wanted passersby to hear, his friends to hear. You just knew that if you didn’t speak your truth then another woman would fall victim to his charm and nice guy act only to be in for heartbreak and misery.

By the time you were finished, Kris’s and Willow’s jaws were on the floor. You didn’t leave anything out. You told the story of how the seemingly ‘perfect’ marriage was all because you made it out to be that way. You told them how you always excused things away as ‘that’s what love is’, but now you knew better. You recalled the big scene Austin caused on vacation at the beach in Atlantic City back in August. August 14th to be exact. Unfortunately, you’ll never forget that date because you’ve never been more embarrassed and ashamed. You even admitted to ignoring the red flags, the red flags you always said you would never let slide. Retelling these stories made you realize that you were yellow and he was green, blue was always going to be the color of your relationship.

During your storytelling, some tears must have fell because felt Willow squeeze your hand, in an effort to comfort. Kris on the other hand was connecting the dots before you’d finish a story.

“That’s what really happened to us. No amount of couples therapy could save us because he didn’t want to save us. Not even when I begged for him to, cried for him to. So the best thing I could do was to paint him perfect so no one knew a thing about just how miserable and embarrassing our relationship truly was.”

“He didn’t deserve for you to paint him perfect.” Kris was fuming. You knew if you gave her the green light she would make that boy’s life pure hell. It was tempting but you wanted something else for him instead.

All you could do was agree. “You’re right I shouldn’t have and it’s a good thing I’m not doing it anymore.”

You didn’t hate Austin Gunn, you didn’t like him, and you sure as hell didn’t love him — at least not anymore. Although, you did want him to feel the pain you felt, you wanted him to be heartbroken. Okay, so maybe you did hate him a little bit, but could anyone really blame you after you told the truth?

General Taglist: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @plentyoffandoms @1dluver13xx @sunshinevirus @wwenhlimagines @crowleysqueenofhell @jackson-nickthedate @omg-im-such-a-masochist @kmc1989

[redpool]

All I want to do is read fanfiction for hockey players or wrestlers but can't find anything that I haven't already read.

[allelitesmut]

Palate Cleanser

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

Ship: MJF x Actress!Childhood Friend!OFC

Rating: Explicit

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

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

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

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

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

“That too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess it has been a while.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, she was in trouble.

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“While drunk? Impressive.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Against all laws of the universe.”

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

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

“Excuse me?” Riley raised an exasperated brow.

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

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

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

“Now you’re just making this up.”

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

“Absolutely not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is not what I meant!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s what you always told me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I knew coming here was a mistake."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t be be serious.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They cancelled my show.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How am I supposed to walk ten more blocks with no pants?" She put a fist on her hip, boxers clutched between her fingers. He tilted his head with an exasperated sigh.

"You seriously still want to walk back to your hotel now? Riley, its pouring!"

"What's my alternative?" She asked as if it wasn't obvious.

"You're really gonna make me ask?" He let his head hang to the side but she was wide-eyed and he heaved a sigh. He had really hoped it was obvious. "Stay with me." A hiss escaped between her teeth and he held up his hands like he was taming a wild horse. "At least until the rain stops."

She lingered where she was for a few moments, glancing out the window behind him as another flash of lightning illuminated the city, then down at the nice, dry shirt in her hands. Her feet throbbed beneath her and she finally nodded.

"Just until the rain stops. Then, I need to go back to my hotel." She pointed an accusatory finger at him and he held his hands up in concession.

-

It didn't take long for her to come out of the bathroom, dressed in his clothes, the first few buttons undone, and Max had to physically restrain himself from falling to his knees. Fuck, he'd missed the sight of her like that. What he wouldn't give to get her like that, curled up on his couch every Sunday afternoon. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He kicked himself for the thought. This wasn't what this was and he knew it. This was the best he could get and he needed to be okay with that.

She gravitated toward him, eyes roaming across his bare chest, and down to where his sweats were hanging low on his hips. Wetting her lips, she attempted to swallow back the ball of nerves that was lodged in the back of her throat. He offered up a glass from the minibar, filled with a shot of amber liquid. She didn't hesitate before tilting it back into her mouth. It burned on the way down but the warmth that bloomed in her stomach was worth it, dulling the edges of her nerves.

"Whiskey." She hissed and he tilted the handle toward her in acknowledgement.

"You're so going to hate yourself tomorrow." He was right; she was certain of it. Holding his gaze, she took the bottle from him, filling her glass halfway up, and shooting the whole thing back.

“I’d better make it worth it, then.” She sank down into the chair beside the mini bar, crossing her legs. Max shot back his glass, trying to keep eyes on her, worried she might disappear if he looked away. Pouring them each another shot, he took his, leaning against the edge of the desk. She knew, somewhere deep in the back of her brain, that adding more alcohol to this situation was playing with fire, but she was wound so tight right now, she thought she might snap.

“Well, if you’re looking to double down, maybe we should go for a drinking game to help pass the time until the rain stops.” He suggested, a devilish glint in his eye, but she just laughed.

“And you made fun of me for drinking tequila? We aren’t teenagers, sneaking out to drink under your parents dock.” She tried not to think about all the other things they’d done under that dock.

“Come on, for old times sake.” His toothy grin should have been sending out warning signals to her brain but she couldn’t focus on them with his abs on display.

“Fine, one quick game.” She conceded. “What do you want to play?”

“Never have I ever?” He gave a crooked grin and she waved him off.

“Please. You know everything I’ve ever done.”

“Alright, fine, then how about fast facts? Let’s see how well you still know me.” And that was a challenge he knew she couldn’t resist.

“Oh, you’re on.”

They settled in on the couch in the corner and she tried to keep as much distance between them as she could but their knees met in a fizzing graze despite her effort.

“Alright, you know the rules: we do rapid-fire. If you take longer than three seconds or respond with anything other than a true fact about the other person, you drink.” He reviewed and she nodded an acceptance. “Ladies first, sweetheart.” She didn’t hesitate. Her wealth of Max knowledge knew no bounds.

“You ended up in the hospital when you were ten because you got your grandma’s knitting needle stuck up your nose.”

“You dared me to do that!” He defended, still managing to sneak in under the games’ rules. That twinkle of mischief was right there in her eyes still as she held back her laugh.

“You once ate a Babybel cheese wheel with the wax still on!" She shot back and he gaped at her.

"You told me I was supposed to!" He narrowed his eyes at her but she merely shrugged, scrunching her nose.

"When you were thirteen, your grandma walked in on you french kissing a poster of Stacy Keibler."

"Wrong!" He mimicked the sound of a buzzer. "I was fourteen. Drink up." He looked smug but she only laughed at him as she tipped back her drink.

"That is not better." She shook her head but he was unashamed, lounging back into the corner of the couch, arms spread across the tops of the cushions. "Alright, your turn. Why don't you try to come up with an actual fact about me this time instead of just skimming off my answers, hmm? I'm starting to think you don't know me at all." Max considered for a moment, eyeing her up and down. That was a challenge he couldn't leave unanswered.

"You're allergic to sesame seeds; the taste of cinnamon toothpaste makes you gag; you make the greatest lemon bars of any human on earth; and you think there aren't enough yellow houses in the world." He rattled off his short list, not moving from his position in the corner. Riley wet her lips, ghost of a smile begging to bleed through. "Do any of those count as actual facts?" Her fingers tightened around her glass and she nodded. "Perfect, your turn."

"You broke the nose off the school statue."

"You failed your drivers test five times." He grinned, watching the irritation ticked above her brow, her mouth gaping in a desperate urge to protest.

"You had a wet dream in Mr. Sampson's world lit class!"

"Shut up!" He broke. "That is not what happened!" But she just tutted, signaling for him to take a drink; they both knew it was close enough to the truth. Glaring at her, he tossed back a shot before refilling both their glasses. "I told you about that in confidence, not so it could be used against me." She pouted, legs curled under her, laying her head down onto her forearm, dangling across the top of the couch, dangerously close to Max's, just daring a spark to catch.

"Sorry, baby, that's showbiz."

"Alright, fine, then i'm upping the ante." He sat upright, causing their arms to bump, sending goosebumps rising all across her skin. Max was starting to feel the effects of his last few shots take hold but there was no way he was stopping now. "Your first kiss was cut short by having the guy sneeze directly into your mouth!" She gasped, smacking the couch arm to show her displeasure.

"You lost your virginity to a horse girl!" She pointed at him.

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did - Molly McClannaugh!"

"I never slept with Molly! She never let me get past second base." He scoffed and Riley stilled, brows furrowing. A lump the size of Jupiter plummeted from his throat to the pit of his stomach.

"Who did you lose your virginity to, then?" She sipped absent mindedly at her drink now, trying to rack her brain for the other girls he had been with in high school. Max froze, too buzzed to properly guard the reaction from seeping into his face. "Wait..."

"I don't...uh."

"That night of the pool party, after I caught Mike with Savannah...our first..." She tried to capture his gaze but he was focusing on taking down more of his drink. "Was that your first time?' His eyes scaled back up to her, the answer clear as day on his face, and Riley blinked back her surprise. A bizarre warmth bloomed in her chest at the thought, turning that night over in her mind. "Why didn’t you say anything?" She had been so certain that he lost his virginity way before she ever lost hers.

"Was I supposed to formally announce it as I was taking your panties off?" He shrugged like he hadn't purposefully avoided telling her. She had been so cute when she came up to his room that next day to nervously assure him that she knew he didn't do the 'girlfriend' thing and that she understood the previous night had been casual. And when she oh-so-politely asked him if he would be interested in doing it again from time to time - as friends, of course - what else was he supposed to say? He certainly wasn't going to say no.

"No, but maybe sometime in the following decade?" She suggested, trying to duck into his line of sight that he had been strategically keeping away from her.

He truthfully couldn't believe it took this long for the truth to come out. It had almost slipped out on a dozen different late nights together. But he knew that if he brought it up, he would have a hard time holding back the deluge of hidden thoughts that were kept behind that dam. He spent years being just a nudge away from telling her to stop screwing around with dirt bags that didn't deserve her, and see what was right in front of her. He'd probably end up waxing on about how they were meant for each other. His feelings for her were so messy and entwined with that first night together; he couldn't promise he wouldn't end up letting her know that he wanted her to be his first and his last. So instead, he coasted, over and over, letting them go in the same circle until he thought he'd be sick. Maybe this time he'd say something, maybe next time, maybe, maybe, maybe.

"Hey, it's not my fault that I had such natural skill that you couldn't tell it was my first time." He waved her off, worried she would keep digging and trap him into admitting more things he had painstakingly kept to himself over the years. "Now drink up." She conceded, holding her glass up in a toast to no one before shooting it back.

"I can't believe you never told me that."

"Aht, aht!" He stopped her before she could drag this conversation out a second longer. "Drink again. That's not a fact about me."

"You're just trying to get me drunk now." She scowled, pouring another drink to sip at, the warmth swimming in her veins now palpable.

"I am not! Maybe you just don't know me as well as you thought you did.” He nudged her, knowing she couldn't resist fighting that accusation.

"Oh, I know you Maxwell. Better than anybody else in the world." Even after all these years apart, she was probably still right.

"Prove it then." And he knew that would seal it. Her brows furrowed with determination and he let out a subtle breath of relief knowing he had diverted her for now.

"Fine. When you went away to college, you started smoking cigarettes for some girl in your theater class, but it didn't last past Thanksgiving because your mom refused to let you in the house smelling like that." She raised a brow and Max nodded his approval. Though, technically she was wrong on the second point. He only ever even started smoking cigarettes because she wouldn’t shut up about how hot she thought it was that her new boyfriend smoked. But when he saw her at Thanksgiving, she mentioned that she was already tired of the taste when she kissed the guy. And she looked at him like what she really missed was the taste of him. He stopped on the spot.

“You are the only person I know that thinks that Billy Joel has a flawless discography.” He wagged an accusatory finger in her direction. Her face and her hands went through a journey of animated expressions before she finally shook her head, holding up a finger right back at him.

"Okay, first of all, I'm right. Please have some respect for the King of Long Island, the King of Music, the King of My Heart - William Martin Joel." She pressed her hand over her heart with a hurt expression. "The man doesn't miss." Max rolled his eyes, using his free hand to mime a mouth blabbing. "Second of all, drink up because I can tell you for a firm fact that your mother agrees with me." He gawked at her.

"Since when are you talking to my mother about Billy Joel?"

"Since always; I love Nina!" She shifted more in his direction, crossing her legs. "We have a long standing game of online Scrabble going." Max pushed his tongue into his cheek, eyes wide.

"Unbelievable. You haven't spoken to me in four god damn years but you're still playing Words with Friends with my mom?" He demanded, shaking his head in disbelief before finally taking his drink.

Placing his glass on the table, he readjusted himself, pulling one leg up onto the couch, knee bent and nestled right against her thigh, heat searing through him. His eyes finally snagged on the small glimpse of his boxers that was peaking out from under the massively oversized shirt she had on. Suddenly, he was all too aware of his hands and their desire to roam. He squeezed them both shut - one on top of the couch, the other on his thigh - in an attempt to displace some of that energy.

But she was watching, finger daintily gliding over the rim of her glass, eyes drawn to the way the muscles in his forearm flexed each time he did. Her gaze crawled up his forearms to his chest, watching the way it rose and fell before finally returning to his face. They had drifted closer to each other than she'd realized.

Breaking eye contact, she glanced down at the table, busying herself with pouring him another shot. The air suddenly felt much thinner and she needed a few seconds to catch her breath. Steadying herself, she shook the feeling out and handed him his refill, his hand lingering on hers for a beat.

"You like to sing songs from musicals in the shower." She took a hard left turn, steering them back to the game before he could suck her in. Max breathed a laugh, shaking his head; she was so predictable.

"You make a great duet partner." His eyes raked down her frame, memories flooding in of some of their showers together, from the wildly sexy to the silly to the unbearably tender and intimate. They'd had a lot of good showers.

"You make a surprisingly good pot roast." She missed when he would cook for her. Before she started dating Jonah, it was the longest she had ever been single since her and Max first got together. They both had their own places and, even if they were living hours from each other, they spent a lot of weekends together. Watching movies, cooking meals together, sleeping in the same bed, pretending this was really their lives. She missed those weekends more than she wanted to admit.

"You made my first apartment feel like home." It slipped out before he could stop it, his brain having escaped to the same place as hers. Riley's lips parted with a breath, eyes locking with his.

"Yeah..." She hummed, unwittingly letting herself settle even more snugly into him until his arm was essentially around her, resting on the top of the couch, their bodies side by side, straddling the line she was trying so hard not to cross. "You were the best roommate I never had." His chest ached, looking down at her, fitting together with him as perfectly as she always had.

"God, I miss watching you dance around that kitchen in just my shirt." He sighed the thought into existence, brushing her hair behind her ear, sending sparks straight down her spine. Her smile was involuntary as the memories floated through her mind.

"Distracting you while you made me pancakes that inevitably burned because you'd end up bending me over the countertop instead." Her cheeks burned at the way his eyes darkened. His finger delicately trailed along her shirt collar, down her sternum to the first button, eyes greedily drinking in every inch of her, exactly as she was.

"Using that spatula for much more important things than pancakes." His tongue swiped across his lips, mouth suddenly very dry. She was looking up at him from under her lashes, her feet propped up on the table in front of her putting those smooth, bare legs out on display for him.

"Leaving welts that I'd feel every minute of the drive home." Warmth pooled low in her stomach, their game long forgotten.

“Good,” his lips curled in a devilish grin, shifting so he loomed over her, “that’s what you get for being a punk.”

“Oh, is that right?” her knuckles ghosted across the toned skin of his stomach in an electrifying tease.

"Mmm, completely deserved." He hummed, toying with the button of her shirt, daring her to stop him. "You knew what you were doing and you got exactly what you were looking for." The tip of his finger skimmed down the length of the shirt, tantalizingly slow, and she swallowed hard, eyes drifting up to meet his.

"Well, now, I'm sure I don't know what you mean." That silky tone in her voice lit a fire in Max's belly. She was lighting matches she wouldn't be able to contain.

"You don't, hmm?" His finger swirled circles around her stomach. She shook her head, batting her lashes, and Max pressed his tongue to his cheek before letting out a low rumble of a laugh. "So you don't remember that little show you put on for me? Swaying your hips," his finger swept from side to side, leaving a faint impression in the fabric of the shirt, "showing off that perfect little ass."

Riley shifted in place, legs pressed together and her breathing jagged. Her knuckles still held firmly in place on his abdomen, quickly becoming the only stopper between their bodies. Her brain was a fog of scarcely contained desires, clouding every logical thought that was trying to claw it's way to the surface.

"So my crime was dancing?" She raised a brow, thumb absently grazing over his skin.

"No," Max's finger trailed down, off the shirt and onto her bare thighs. Riley shivered. "your crime was traipsing over to me, wrapping your arms around me from behind, and stroking my dick through my pants."

"I thought you liked that." She pouted, head lolling back dramatically onto his chest, eyes still angled up to him.

"Oh, I do." He traced his finger up to her knee, then oh-so-slowly dragged it back down the inside of her thigh like a trail of gasoline, ready to ignite. Blaring alarm bells sounded in her head as his fingers toyed with the edge of the shirt, but it didn't stop her knees from drifting apart just enough to give him clearance. Hand dipping beneath the shirt, he gingerly crept up that soft skin that he missed so much. He reached the apex of her thighs, using the pad of his thumb to brush against her core through the thin fabric of the boxers, sending shockwaves reverberating through her body, temporarily obliterating every sane thought she'd ever had. Her back arched as he circled his thumb over her clit, the fabric of his boxers a welcome friction. "I just don't like when little teases," he curled his free arm around her shoulders, fingers settling in her hair, "get me all wound up and then waltz away." He pulled his hand out from under her shirt and she let out an involuntary whimper. Max smirked, watching her melt right into the palm of his hand. "And when I very politely asked you to get your ass back over here, you turned around and said 'make me'. What else was I supposed to do with you once I caught you?"

In one smooth motion, he wrapped a strong hand around her thigh, yanking it up over his legs, leaving her spread wide for him. She squeaked, skin blazing beneath his fingers. He used his fingers in her hair to guide her eyes up to his. Thick digits dug into the sensitive skin of her thighs, sliding a possessive grip up to her center. Stopping just short of her core, he gave a sharp slap that echoed around the room. She couldn't stop the desperate whine that escaped her lips. Max dug his nails into the stinging flesh of her thigh.

"What am I supposed to do with you now that I've caught you?" He thrummed his fingers along her thigh, predator taunting his prey. She bit her lip hard, hips rocking up toward him involuntarily, and Max chuckled, low in his throat. "Do you miss the way I filled this perfect pussy, sweetheart?" His hand cupped her mound through the boxers and she let out a sharp breath, body stiffening. "Did your actor-boy ever touch you the way I do?" He curled his middle finger, teasing her lips, and she mewled. "Did he stretch your little cunt like he was made for it?" All she could manage was rutting her hips against his hand. "Did he make you cum until you cried - until you were shaking and exhausted and begging for mercy?" He throbbed in his pants; she was so fucking close he could practically taste her. Bringing his fingers up to his face, he smelled that familiar sweet scent of her, and his final bit of restraint snapped. "God, I fucking missed you."

There was no room to think when he pulled her face to his. They collided in a frenzied rush that she couldn't begin to resist. She melted into him, letting his tongue sweep into her mouth. He didn't hesitate to yank the boxers down her legs, fingers diving between her soaked folds. Her head tipped back, a strangled cry erupting from her chest, into the space between them, and Max grinned, burying his face into her neck. He sank one, then two fingers inside her and she keened, bucking against his hand.

"That's my fucking girl. Such a needy little pussy." He nipped at her neck, pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb working tight circles around her clit. Arm wrapped tight around her, he pulled her up to straddle his lap, keeping his fingers buried inside her. His other hand wound up in the hair at the base of her head, dragging her back into a hungry, desperate kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck, steadying herself as she ground down against his fingers. "That's right, ride my fingers, beautiful; ride 'em like they were my cock. Always such a good girl for me."

Her brain whirled in a million different directions, clouded by a haze of unrelenting need, left unchecked for years. She met his gaze, a white hot fire burning in his eyes. This didn't feel real, her brain tried desperately to make sense of how she ended up here, hips stuttering, but Max's fingers were curling into just the right spot and she struggled to keep up with her thoughts.

"God, so fucking wet for me, Riley."

But her name was so very real. Real enough to jump start her brain like a live wire and send her skittering off his lap. Fuck, this couldn't keep happening. How did this always happen? And now he was looking at her with all that confusion and hurt and decades of push and pull, shining clear as day on his face.

She smoothed the shirt down over her hips, covering up as much as she could without pants. Max was clearly waiting for an explanation, arms sagging down into the couch, empty of all the things that had been so close to his reach for the first time in so long.

"I...I'm sorry. I really don't know what is wrong with me."

"Riley, come on." He protested, holding out a hand to encourage her to come back to him but she just wrapped her arms around herself. She glanced out the window behind them and made a desperate attempt to hide from the reality of tonight.

"The rains stopped. I should go, its really late." She stumbled back a few steps, clearing the coffee table and Max stood up after her.

“You can’t walk back with no pants on, drunk, at two in the morning, Riley. Be reasonable.”

“I am. I’ll just throw my dress back on and finally call a damn Uber like I should have done hours ago.” She rolled the sleeves up on the shirt and started hunting around for her dress. Max followed after her but she refused to look at him.

“Stop it. You can't just leave like that." He said, plucking the dress off the chair she'd left it on earlier. She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him before jutting a hand out, demanding the dress.

"Watch me." She snatched the fabric from his hands, spinning on her heel, but Max caught her wrist, still sending sparks all up her arm.

"How fucking long are you going to keep running?" He watched her face falter, then harden, and irritation ticked up in him.

"I'm not running. This is just a bad idea - a really bad idea. So I need to walk away now - not run! Just make a completely rational and sane decision to walk away."

"How is this rational?" His irritation was biting through. "You have been running away from me for years. You're running away now just like you did four years ago and just like you did when you started dating Jonah. What are you so fucking scared of, huh?" Her brow twitched and she finally yanked her hand away from him.

“I’m scared because being around you makes me want to do irrational things!”

“Like what?” He demanded. “What have I ever made you do that was so monstrous?” She put a hand on her hip, glowering at him, but he only scoffed. “You can’t be serious. Still about Jonah? When are you gonna forgive yourself? It’s been five years!”

“We hurt him!”

“So what?” He practically bellowed. “He’s probably already forgotten it even happened; he’s an idiot! Let yourself off the hook.”

“I can’t!” She shot back, finally putting years of thoughts kept to herself into words. “I can’t because it doesn’t matter who I’m with, I can’t control myself around you.” She shook her head and Max cocked his head, hardly seeing the problem. “Given the slightest nudge, I’m going to end up making the exact same choices over and over again.”

“What’s so wrong with that? What is so wrong with choosing us?”

“It’s not fair to everyone else around us, Max!”

“Who gives a shit?” He snapped, increasingly annoyed he needed to spell it out. “It’s not about them! It’s about us,” he gestured between them, “me and you, Riley, just like it always has been. Just like it always will be.” She was frozen, goosebumps rising over every inch of her skin. “At the end of the fucking world, it’s still just gonna be you and me.”

“Max…” She breathed his name into the space between them, heart twisting in her chest. Her face was stricken and his stomach lurched. “I can’t do this dance forever.”

“Why not?” He was earnest, painfully so, that same bumbling teenager still taking his toll. Gravity was pulling him toward her but he fought it with all his strength, not sure he could take it if she backed away from him.

“Because it hurts too much.” And her voice trembled just enough for him to catch it, crumbling something inside him that he didn’t know existed. “Every relationship I have ever been in has been a battle against my instincts to cancel plans in case you decide to call; against my instinct to end things with a guy after the first date because he doesn’t compare to you; against my instinct to doom every single relationship I'm ever in, all for a guy that will never want to give me what I need.”

“You can’t be serious.” He balked and it knocked her off balance. “When have I literally ever said no to you? You are the only person on the entire godforsaken planet that I will bend over backwards to make happy.” He was bordering on angry now, heat creeping up the back of his neck. He would have bent time and space to keep her from leaving. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I would’ve given you everything you ever asked for?” The soft, devastated features of her face were pleading him to stop but he couldn’t.

“Of course it did.” She scrubbed a hand over her face, body sagging. “But even on the days that I thought you might agree to a relationship that you didn’t really want - ”

“What makes you so sure I wouldn’t want it?” He crossed his arm over his chest and she rolled her eyes. Scoffing, he took a step toward her.

“Be serious.”

“I am! What gave you the impression I wouldn’t really want a relationship with you?” He held out an expectant hand for an answer and she searched the ceiling for an answer, shaking her head incredulously.

“How about the hundred different times over the years that you explicitly told me you could never see yourself settling down and that - quote - relationships are for suckers?” She held a sarcastic hand back at him, raising her brows with a sneer.

“Oh, come on, Riley!” He pleaded, genuinely surprised it wasn’t obvious to her. “You are the exception to every rule.” He shook his head, taking a step closer but she didn’t budge. “I didn’t see myself ever settling down with anyone but you.” He pressed his luck, taking another step. “I’d be a sucker if I got into a relationship with anyone but you.” She heaved a sigh, shaking her head. It’s not like there weren’t days she thought he might want a life with her. Hell, there were days where it felt like they had a life together - glimpses at a different lifetime where puzzle pieces fit together and the boy next door is the love of your life - but that wasn’t this lifetime. Or maybe it was but that didn’t make her the love of his.

“It doesn’t even matter.” She finally took a step back, suddenly acutely aware of how close he’d gotten and the way it was clouding her brain. “Even if you had agreed, even if you had really thought it was what you wanted, how long was that gonna last? How long until the thrill wore off and you finally got bored of me like you did with every other girl you’ve ever met?”

“Oh good fucking god, Riley!” He fumed, charging toward her and taking her face forcefully between his hands. “I could fucking shake you. What is it going to take to get it through your head that you aren’t any other girl to me?” His touch scorched her skin and short circuited her brain. Fuck, she couldn’t think straight when he was this close. “This isn’t some stupid high school crush anymore. It’s been twenty goddamn years of wanting to be near you so badly it hurts.” He let his hands fall to his sides but he didn’t budge from his spot. “I’ve been as close as it gets more times than I can count and it’s never close enough.” Her brain whirred, confusion, disbelief, and anger cycling through in rapid succession.

“Well you never said that, Max!” She finally shot back. “How was I supposed to know I was some unspoken exception to a rule! All I knew was that every time I thought we might be headed somewhere, I’d test the waters only to be told you would sooner fake your own death than commit to one woman. What was I supposed to think?” She smoothed her palms down her thighs to silence the way her hands were trembling. “I couldn’t risk it.” His face hardened, brows drawn into a harsh line.

“Right, better to cut me out of your life all together.” The venom in his voice was hardly contained but she was nearing her wits end. A long, emotional day combined with the tail end of half a dozen shots meant that her filter was wearing down to nothing.

“Fine. I’m a coward - is that what you want to hear?” She used her foot to push off the wall she was trapped against, forcibly moving past Max, and bumping his shoulder. It bought her a few valuable seconds to breath and forget the way his eyes boared into her. Getting her space didn’t mend her weary filter, though. “I didn’t think I’d survive it if we made a real go of it and you got bored of me.” Her body turned back to him on instinct alone, a hurt she had fictionalized over and over again playing out on her face. “I’ve been cheated on by a lot of guys but you…? I’d never recover from that.” The hurt in his chest only read as anger. Her stomach dropped.

“Cheat on you? For fucks sake, have a little faith in me.” He scoffed but his eyes softened as they grazed over her. He might have been a little subtle over the years about just how snugly he was wrapped around her finger but he really thought she understood. “You really think, after everything you’ve been through, that I could do that to you?”

“I didn’t." She conceded, worrying her lip between her teeth, wondering if she could back her way out of this conversation now that it had started. But he was waiting expectantly for more. "I used to think that the worst thing that could happen was our friendship would end - that was already plenty to stop me from pursuing it.” She sank back against the arm of the couch, raking her fingers through her hair. “But then after things ended with Jonah, things with us were so hot and heavy. I saw you almost every day, I woke up next to you more mornings than not, hell, we spent Valentines Day curled up on your couch with a meal you made me from scratch. It almost felt like…” Her eyes met his, the weight of her unspoken words sucking the air out of the room. There was no arguing that point; it hadn’t just felt like they were together - they were together. He just never had the chance to call it what it was.

“Riley…” He didn't have the words. He was the man of a million words but somehow, with her, they always seemed to allude him.

“But I guess that must have all been in my head, cause you had no trouble taking home that girl that worked the merch stand at your shows.” She clung desperately to the thread of dignity that kept her voice from breaking, blinking away the sting behind her eyes. He floated toward her but she held up a hand that stopped him in his tracks.

“It wasn’t like that, Ry, I swear to god.” He insisted but she was just waving him off.

“Please, Max, her tits were on full display in your kitchen.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him anymore, embarrassed heat creeping up her neck, and it was making his stomach twist. It was hard to argue with that, even if he knew it wasn’t the reality of the situation. But even if his sex with Valerie, the exceptionally hot new merch girl at MLW, wasn’t real, the look on Riley’s face when she walked into his apartment with a bottle of his favorite whiskey, only to find a topless Valerie sitting on his kitchen counter was very very real. “It’s fine, that’s how we had always operated; I was stupid for thinking anything had changed.”

That devastated look when she saw them only lasted for a second but it was plenty to haunt his dreams for years. He wasn’t supposed to be the one that made her look like that and he didn’t even know how it happened. Valerie just lived nearby and wanted to walk back with him and he didn’t stop to think when she asked to see his replica belt collection. And yeah, maybe he’d flirted a little because he didn’t know how not to, but not so much that it warranted her taking her top off while he went to find the belt she asked to see.

But she was nothing; she was less than nothing. She was so insignificant in his story with Riley, she didn't deserve to mentioned. She didn't get to be the thing that stood between them getting together.

“It wasn’t in your head.” He finally conceded, minutes too late, trying to forcibly shift them back to what really mattered. Her eyes pleaded with him to stop. She didn’t need to complicate her feelings here, they were already jumbled enough as it was. But Max wasn't finished - he had come this far. “Everyone in the locker room referred to you as my girlfriend. My dad referred to you as my girlfriend. The fucking mailman referred to you as my girlfriend. It wasn’t in your head.” Hearing it out loud had her heart clawing it’s way out of her chest; this was too much. She didn’t realize just how badly she’d wanted to hear him call her that until he’d gotten this close.

“But I wasn’t your girlfriend, Max. So you were fully within your right to invite naked girls back to your place.” She maintained her position, knowing if she let herself falter, there would be no stopping her from crying in front of him and there was nothing in this world that she wanted less than to cry right now.

“I am telling you, nothing happened!” He gestured a desperate hand out at her. “It was a complete misunderstanding. I know that sounds like bullshit but I swear to fucking god I wasn’t responsible for the tits in the kitchen.” She rolled her eyes with a lofty breath.

“It doesn’t even matter.” She kicked off the arm of the couch, restless. “It really wasn’t about her. Like I said, even if you had, it’s really not my place to get mad about it.”

“But I’m telling you it was your place. You should have torn a hole clean through me.”

If it hadn’t been for that millisecond of devastation on her face, he might not have even known she was upset by it. She just apologized for walking in without knocking, as if him giving her a key wasn't an open invitation to do so, and excused herself to the bathroom. When he got back from escorting Valerie out of his apartment building, she was on his couch and refused to talk about it. But he knew. He didn’t have to be told that she had been crying in the bathroom while he was gone. Even if her face didn’t show it, she was stilted the whole night and eventually went home to sleep in her own bed. It wasn’t more than a few weeks before she had her first date with Lucas.

“I didn’t want to tear a hole through you. I was mad at myself, not at you. All you did was remind me that there was more at stake than just our friendship.” So she hid out in the arms of another cheating bastard. And she got humiliated on a national stage. And she lost the show she had poured her soul into. But all of that pain was manageable; the pain of having her heart broken by Max, though, that would have swallowed her whole. She needed to get out of here. His jaw ticked with irritation as she began floating toward the sparse kitchen space of the suite, searching for her shoes, but he dutifully followed after her.

"And so, what? You just gave up on the entire idea of us because of a misunderstanding that you refused to let me clear up?" It came out a little indignant and his face twitched in a strain to control his temper. She slowed, head lolling back to see him.

"Because it didn't matter." She wandered into the tiny galley kitchen and turned around, only to find herself blocked in by Max. Her pulse picked up.

"Stop saying that, it obviously did matter." He stood at the entrance to the kitchen, allowing her a few feet between them.

"No, it didn't! We kept on doing what we always did. Same old cycle, wash and repeat."

"Except that you cut me out of your life six months later!" He shot back, inadvertently taking a step into the kitchen. "Is that why? Still just punishing me for some stupid mistake?"

"No, I cut you out of my life because you got into a fist fight with my boyfriend at my mom's Holiday Party and announced to the entire room that I had cheated on Jonah with you. Huge surprise that Lucas told me I needed to make a decision."

"And so you just decided for the both of us, then? Years of friendship down the drain because your cheating, piece of shit boyfriend was worried you'd beat him to the punch?" He was past the point of feeling sheepish - none of that mattered in comparison. Another couple steps toward her and she was beginning to feel the heat of his body. He was getting harder to block out.

"What was I supposed to do, Max?" She demanded, plastering herself against the counter on the far side of the kitchen, buying as much space as she could get.

"You were supposed to choose me!" He practically shouted, hands clenching in an attempt to resist shaking her. "You were supposed to stop being a coward and be with me!" She swallowed hard, the smell of him mixed with the aftermath of their evening was seeping into her brain. She shook her head, brow furrowed.

"Yeah, and what about you, huh? When were you supposed to stop being a coward?" She spit back and he glared at her. "It's not like you ever manned up and said something! You only ever hammered on about how you 'never wanted to be tied down'." Her impression of him was tempered by the edge of emotion that was seeping into her voice. "How was I supposed to choose you when you never even hinted at wanting anything more with me? You could have said something at literally any time in last decade and I would have dropped everything in my life to be with you. But you didn't. Not once." Fire burned beneath his fingertips, grinding his teeth hard enough to chip them.

"Fine, you want me to say something?" He finally snapped, crowding into her space, hand on the cabinets behind her head. She could feel her heartbeat in her throat, eyes deadlocked with his. Reaching up with his free hand, he tangled his fist in the back of her hair, and her head tipped back in a breathless gasp. "You've been my girl since day one and nothing is ever gonna change that.” He was close enough to feel her warm breath fanning across his face. Her fingers curled around the edge of the counters. “I didn't need to say it, Riley. Its just a given - you’re mine. I know it, you know, every guy you've ever been with knows it.” He sandwiched her against the counter, their legs slotting together just right, and her skin buzzed head to toe. “So you can walk away as many times as you want. Cause our roots are tangled up tight, sweetheart; you are always gonna find your way right back here." Her breath came out in shallow gasps for air, and his lips curled into a smug smirk. Using his grip on her hair, he tilted her head, nosing along the curve of her neck until his lips brushed her earlobe. "Your body is screaming it, practically vibrating over finally being back where it belongs." Her eyes fluttered closed; her brain was going a hundred and fifty down an empty highway, wind rattling the sides so hard she couldn't hear a cohesive thought. His lips ghosted across her neck, raising goosebumps all down her spine.

"Max..." She whimpered, and he strained against the soft material of his sweats. He needed that sound more than he needed oxygen.

Loosening his grip on her hair, his hand slipped down until settling firmly along her jaw. Fingers dug into her skin, he nipped at the delicate skin of her neck, and her breathing hitched.

"I'm done sharing you, Riley." His thumb slid down her jaw, across the column of her neck, ripples of electricity spilling out beneath it. He adjusted his fingers with a trial squeeze around her throat, coming face to face with her. Her eyes blinked open, wide and hazy, dragging her teeth across her bottom lip. "Now, are you my girl or not?”

Riley’s tongue dabbed over her trembling lip and she swallowed hard. There were a million reasons racing through her head that all told her to say no but she was already nodding.

“Yeah?” His brow quirked, fingers thrumming against her throat. She nodded more firmly. Slowly, he leaned into her, guiding her up to him. Their breaths mingled and her eyes drifted shut. He nudged his nose along hers and she stood on her toes, her lips aching for his, but he pulled back. “Let me hear it.” Eyes flying open, she hesitated, but Max’s fingers constricted around her throat and the whine that slipped out was damning.

“I’m your girl.” She finally conceded. It was just above a whisper but Max scarcely let her finish anyway.

“I fuckin’ know it.”

In an instant, his hands flew down to desperately grip her face, crushing his lips into hers so hard it knocked the breath from her lungs. And just like that, she was tripping headfirst into his quicksand.

Their mouths collided in a furious gnashing of tongues and teeth and deep seated need. Her nails dragged across his lower back and he groaned into her mouth. They were messy and frantic, his hands roaming into her hair and down her collarbone, slipping beneath the splayed fabric of her shirt, hungry for every inch of skin they had been deprived of for so long. His fingers wandered to her bare thigh, electricity blooming in a line beneath his touch. He shivered, hand stuttering when she smoothed her palm up his chest, roping it around his neck.

His lips made a messy trail to her chin, then up along the line of her jaw. Calloused fingers curled around her thigh, guiding it up around his hip, and he yanked her hips flush against him. She let out an airy sigh as he laid open mouth kisses along her neck, making him throb beneath his sweatpants.

"Feel good to be back where you belong, sweetheart?" He nipped at her earlobe, rocking his hips in smooth thrusts against her core, completely exposed to him. She whimpered, body doused in gasoline and ready to ignite at a moment's notice. His fingers tightened in her hair, tugging it back, and laving his tongue over the curve of her neck before sucking at the sensitive skin.

His other hand crept up her thigh, curled around from the outside but edging up closer and closer to the apex. As he reached the top, he let his nails drag back down her thigh, and he hummed against her skin.

She urged a hurried hand just inside his hip, pawing at the top of his sweats in an attempt to push them down. Max snatched her hand, pinning it to the cabinet above her head. Her eyes shot open, wildly flitting across his face, watching helplessly as he captured her other hand, holding them both high above her head with one hand, her shirt riding up over her hips. She tugged at his grip to no avail and a thrill ran through her veins.

Grinding her hips against his stiff cock, she whined, the friction just a delicious tease. Max chuckled, low and breathy, into the crook of her neck.

“Awww, what's wrong, pretty girl?” His hand skated down, over her chest and stomach, curling his fingers around the bottom of the shirt. Knuckles dragged along the electrified skin of her hip and she squirmed. “You need something?" Her brain was too hazy for a coherent response, though, scarcely even registering his fingers nimbly undoing the bottom button. He dragged his teeth along her skin before his tongue soothed over it. She whined his name, knees suddenly feeling a little insufficient as she tried to grind against him but he pinned her hips to the counter with his own. “Use your words, Riley." But she couldn’t focus with the way his knuckles were dragging against her lower belly. He undid another button and she shook.

As quickly as his hand disappeared from her stomach, it reappeared, harshly squeezing her bare ass before delivering a sharp smack. Heat seared through her, a sharp contrast to his gentle touch, rising up her torso.

"Pleeease..." Her voice was raked over, barely recognizable under the strain of her need.

"Please what?" He delivered another, lighter smack to her ass, fingers just grazing over her center. Enough to make her entire body tremble and get his fingers dewy with her slick. Twitching beneath his sweats, his lips curled into a smug smile. He raised two fingers between them, sliding them past his lips, eyes closing as he savored the taste of her arousal. Riley's lips parted in a ragged breath, pupils blown, and his eyes snapped back to her, smirking before pressing the fingers to her lips. She obliged, letting them sink into her mouth, the taste of her still faint, and Max's other hand tightened around her wrists, trying to keep his composure. "Look at you." He worked his fingers in and out of her mouth a couple of times. "All worked up and I've barely even touched you."

An embarrassment flashed through her body and she squirmed as if it would change the truth. But when his fingers withdrew from her mouth, she had to swallow back her whine - she was already in the deep end.

His fingers, wet with their mixed saliva, trailed down her chin, over her throat, and down the center of her chest. Just barely grazing the soft skin of her breasts before landing on the top button. She couldn’t stop herself from pushing her chest out. His eyes flicked back up to meet hers, lips curling devilishly as he undid the button without looking, fingers skimming right down to the final button still fastened. Wasting no time, he popped the final obstacle and let his thumb drag torturously down over her exposed stomach. He pushed past the draped fabric, clamping around her waist with both hands, inadvertently releasing her arms. His face nestled into the crook of her neck, breathing her in, trying to commit every detail of this to memory before real life caught up to them. If he could stop time, he would have spent an eternity in that moment, her fingers curling in his hair to keep him close, their bare chests pressed against each other, heat between them threatening to burn down the entire city block.

"Fuck, I've missed you so much." The words were a rasp against her skin that he couldn't control for the third time that night. He was practically throbbing, brain just a fog of needy thoughts, his ability to keep his composure was hanging by a thread.

He gave no warning before he lifted her up onto the countertop, his lips not skipping a beat as they trailed down to the hollow of her throat. His hands slid up her figure, keeping her tight to him as he sucked dark, possessive marks into her skin. Her head tipped back, steadying herself on the countertop with one hand while the other gripped tight in his hair, as if it would lend her any real control. He left a trail of hickies in a line along her clavicle and her legs curled around his waist when he nudged the shirt over her shoulder, leaving it gaping wide. His eyes raked sinfully over every inch of her on display for him now, fingers tweaking her peaked nipple, and her breath caught in her throat.

"So damn perfect." His palm kneaded over her breast, greedy and rough, squeezing hard enough it might bruise all on its own. Free hand stabilizing on her upper thigh, he pinched her nipple between his fingers as his mouth made its way down to her chest. “And all fuckin’ mine.” He accentuated his point by leaving a particularly dark mark on her chest. He would’ve laid his claim over every last inch if he had to. “Should carve my name into your skin so everyone knows exactly who you belong to.” But god, his tongue was doing that plenty well on its own, tracing his initials over the mark he’d just made.

She sank back onto her elbow, shirt slipping off the other shoulder and giving him the full access he needed. He didn't hesitate, leaning into her and grazing his teeth over her nipple, delighting in the sharp breath of air she took in. His tongue flicked over the bud and her eyes fluttered shut, teeth raking over her lip. When he blew a cool breath across the slick, sensitive skin, her entire body bowed into him, clung around his neck.

"Fuck me, Max, pleeease." Her voice didn't feel like her own, strained and desperate.

Legs wrapped around him, she fumbled to push his sweats down with her feet. She needed more, faster, worrying her body would be reduced to ash before she got to feel him again. And even if his brain had been whirring fast enough to form a rational thought, he wouldn't have been able to resist. His entire body was electrified now and there was no slowing down. She managed to get his sweats down just enough to free his erection and there was no way to stop him to from immediately delving between her folds. Her breath escaped in a puff as he ground the tip of his cock over her clit.

"Does this pretty little pussy need some attention?" He yanked her hips so hard toward him that they practically came off the counter. One hand held her hips in place as the other skated up into her hair. "Been neglected for so long." Dragging his cock through her folds again, he could feel the precum dripping from his tip, mixing with her slick, and his eyes rolled back for just a moment. Pulling her to him by the hair, he met her in a needy kiss, frantic and overdue, as he notched his crown against her entrance. "Don't worry, baby, i'm gonna take care of you. Remind you what its like to come until you cry."

And with that, he speared through her center, to the hilt - he couldn't handle anything less than being completely buried inside her right now. She screeched, nails digging into his scalp as he made strong, purposeful thrusts up into her. Every inch of her stretched to accommodate him, squeezing a chokehold around his dick. He bit hard on her bottom lip, dragging it back as he hammered into her, her body lifting on and off of the counter with their frenzied pace.

"Ohhh fuck! Max!" She cried out, hands roaming aimlessly, pleasure blanking out her mind. If she had reservations about being with him, they were long gone, replaced by a rampaging snowball of need that was quickly filling her past her breaking point.

"You feel so fucking good, squeezing this cock like it was made for you." He growled against her jaw, fingers wrapped deep into her hair. He had meant to take this so much slower - to savor her - but fuck if his patience was that strong.

He hooked her leg up over his arm, burying both hands in her hair, keeping her spread wide for him, and forehead to forehead. Groaning, his fingers twitched as she constricted around him, trying desperately to hold it together. Her body slipping down, lower back against the counter as he rocked up into the perfect spot inside her over and over.

"My pretty little slut gonna come for me already? Missed my cock so much you couldn't even take thirty seconds before falling apart?" He watched her struggle to hold his eye contact, breathy moans following one after the other. She was too far gone to feel the shame that was percolating in her cheeks, though, just holding on for dear life as her entire body bloomed open. "Good girl, fucking milk this cock, baby." He just prayed desperately he could withstand it, his thumb reaching over to rub rough circles over her clit and she screamed, arching up and toes curling. But he didn't stop to let her breath, her screams devolving to whines.

Her back slammed, deliciously painful, against the edge of the counter each time he drove into her, and her skin was buzzing from top to bottom. She felt his hand, frantically roaming to her face, hair, stuck with sweat, getting raked between them as he gripped her jaw. He pulled her in for a messy, possessive kiss, free hand slapping her tit, fingers grazing her nipple and making her cry out. Her hand flew up to grab the cabinets to steady herself, her body trying to match his movements, careening out of control.

"Who else knows your body like this? Who else fucks you this good?" He demanded, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust. She was teetering dangerously close to the edge, his words, snarled against her ear making every inch of her skin burn. "Tell me who this beautiful body belongs to." But her orgasm was closing in quick and halting all coherent thought, color dotting her vision. His palm collided full power with her ass and the red hot sting reverberated through her veins, kicking the ground out from under her. "I said who owns this body?"

"You, you do! Fuck, Max, please!" She desperately rutted against him, chasing the finish line that was tantalizingly close if she could just wade through the foggy flashing lights.

"God damn fuckin' right I do." His voice was dangerously low, growled into the skin of her throat. Any plans for taking things slow were pummeled through, his body running on full instinct now. "Now let me feel you soak this cock."

Yanking her up more solidly onto the counter, he pushed her flat onto her back, legs spread clear apart as he rocked up into her core. Pushing down on her hips, he strummed three fingers across her clit as rapidly as he could move them, his hips falling into rhythm. Her hands desperately raked across the counters, blindly searching for a hold to keep her from floating straight out of her body. He didn't relent and her body jerked, a seismic tremble stretching over her legs. Pulling out to the tip, he slammed back in, bottoming out as he pinched her clit and she unraveled, squirting over his fingers with a scream they must have heard down in the lobby, and her back rose off the counters like she'd been electrified.

His arm wound tight around her back, plastering her to him as he bounced her up and down on his dick, his balls tightening as her walls pulsed around him, overstimulated but begging for more. Her body twitched as she stumbled through aftershocks and she clung to him for all she was worth, mouth hung open in a series of silent screams. It didn't take more than a few jerky thrusts before his hips stuttered, burying himself as deep as he could go. He spilled his warmth into her with a roar, sinking his teeth hard into her neck.

They writhed and jerked, bodies pressed tight as they could get, trying to ride out every last second. Slowing, he peppered kisses over her skin, helping her settle back down on the countertop. His hands slid up into her hair, pulling her in for a languorous kiss, getting lost in her haze, unwilling to budge from his spot deep inside her.

"That's my fuckin' girl." He cooed, hands skating down to her hips, and she melted into him, every ounce of energy fully spent, her arms draped lazily around his shoulders. "God, I've fucking missed you, Ry."

And as the fog of her orgasm ebbed, reality settled in, harsh as ever, with a million unanswered questions. The pull of the crook of his neck was too much to resist, though, so she buried her face instead of addressing any of the nagging thoughts that swirled in her head. But they couldn't stay like that forever, and when he finally pulled back, he could see the uncertainty clouding her expression. That wasn't exactly what he was hoping for.

"Max..." She breathed out his name with a tiny disbelieving shake of her head, and he straightened his spine. "What are we doing?" He wet his lips, mulling over the options in his head before he swept forward and picked her up. She yelped but he didn't stop on his path out of the kitchen and she didn't have the energy to fight him.

"We're going to bed." He bounced her down onto the mattress and crawled after her.

"But -"

"No." He cut her off, yanking the blankets out from under them. She skittered up to the top of the bed, bones suddenly feeling much heavier. Max maneuvered up her body, pressing her down into the mattress, pulling the blanket up over them. Meeting his eyes, she went to protest but he pressed his lips to hers in a silencing kiss. "It's been a long ass day and I've got to get up in less than four hours for another day of talking to sweaty nerds." She bit the inside of her lips, cutting off the rest of her protests. "And I fully intend to wake you up in the middle of the night with my tongue on your clit so let's get some sleep and maybe in the morning you'll feel less like arguing." Her lips curled into a reluctant smile before she scrunched her nose.

"Not likely."

Max snorted a laugh before rolling off of her. He roped her in with an arm and she curled against him the way she always had. Maybe sleep was exactly what she needed to make sense of this night. And this bed was so comfortable. And Max was so warm...

___

Sunlight peaked through the edge of the hotel blinds, right across Riley's eyes and she stretched, quickly finding she didn’t have the space, strong arms wrapped tight around her middle. Memories of last night flashed across her mind, a lazy smile stretching across her face. Max's lips dusted over the curve of her shoulder and a flittering of electricity rolled through her skin.

"Good morning, beautiful." He whispered into the crook of her neck and she settled back into him as heavily as she could. She was going to enjoy every second of this until reality came calling. God, she had missed waking up next to him.

"Mmm morning." Rolling onto her back, she met his hazy eyes, still heavy from sleep but soft and mildly incredulous. He had half expected to wake up and find out this had been a horribly detailed and unfair dream. But here she still was, hair mussed and dreamy smile directed right up at him. "Can we just blow off real life and stay here?" She knew they needed a more serious conversation about things they admitted in the heat of the moment last night but, she was pretty sure, as long as they stayed in this bed, nothing else mattered.

"Ugh, you read my mind." He leaned over her, fingers sliding up into her hair as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to her lips that left them tingling in his wake. "Unfortunately, I am contractually obligated to be at this convention in..." His gaze flicked over to the alarm clock on the bedside table and he groaned. "...45 minutes. Fuck, I really need to get up and get in the shower."

Riley stretched her legs out under the covers, nestling down into the mattress.

"Oh, that's sad for you. Have fun with that, I'll be right here." She closed her eyes pointedly, missing the scowl the Max leveled at her. But there was no missing his fingers tazing her sides, making her jump. "Ah! Hey!" She objected but he rolled on top of her, pressing her into the mattress before tickling up her waist. Squirming and squealing beneath him, she begged him to stop between laughs. "Please, please, I surrender, please!" He didn't let up, though, just creeping up then down until finally settling on her hips.

"Let me try that again." He said, his bare body pressing deliciously into hers. "Come get in the shower with me, brat." She bat her lashes with a coy smile.

"Now, see, my flight doesn't come for a few more hours so I don't see why I -." She stopped short when his fingers grazed back over her sides. "No, please!" She giggled, squirming under him and he grinned down at her.

"I can't shower alone knowing my duet partner is laying right over here." He licked his lips, tracing feather-light over her skin until goosebumps raised all down her spine. Tilting her head from side to side, she scrunched her nose.

"I don't know, I saw that musical number you did with Chris Jericho. Pretty sure I've been replaced. Maybe I should go get him for you?" She teased, tongue peaking out, trapped between her teeth, and he breathed a laugh.

"Oh so you've been watching me for a while, then, huh? Didn't realize you were basically a groupie now."

"Only if you count as my groupie, too. Don't think I didn't pick up on you knowing exactly what happened in the episode where we fly to Gorkula. Are you a SpaceHead, Max?" She ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to keep back a grin, and Max gaped at her, brows knitting together.

"I don't appreciate being called a slur, Riley. Incredibly disrespectful that you would lump me in with the rest of your soap-phobic fan base." He dug his fingers into her and she squirmed with a breathless laugh. "Now get this pretty little ass in the shower before I hoist you over my shoulder and haul you in there myself."

She bit down on her lip, gearing up to tease him but stopped short at the sound of the doorknob jiggling. She tried to push herself up to sit but was stuck. When the door swung open, she smacked blindly at Max's back and he hurried to roll off of her.

"Surprise!" A petite girl, wrapped in a stylish but tight office dress, burst through the opened door and Riley snatched the blanket up to her chest, looking to Max, who had jumped to his feet.

"K-Kelsey?" He stammered, his skin suddenly excruciatingly hot, desperately clambering for a sheet to cover himself. "What are you doing here?"

Watching helplessly as Kelsey took in the scene before her, steam quickly beginning to billow out her ears, Max took a nervous step back. And understanding washed through Riley crystal clear, salt water flooding her veins, poisoned and sluggish, cementing her to her spot. She glanced back at 'Kelsey', shell shocked, and watched as she launched her purse directly at Max's head.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" She demanded, storming toward him, and Riley sat numbly as the woman smacked his chest. "I can't believe you!"

"Baby, please.." He held his hands up in front of him in defense but Kelsey kept swinging.

Riley jolted from her spot, taking the blanket with her as she backed up. She couldn't feel her skin anymore, a monstrous pit of nausea roiling in her gut. Baby. She was going to be sick.

"How could you do this to me? I came out here to surprise you after how shitty you said your day was yesterday and this..." Kelsey glanced back in Riley's direction and gave her a good look at the potent mix of anger and heartbreak on her face for just a second before she whirled back on Max. "You're unbelievable."

Max's gaze finally drifted back to Riley and she never wanted to disappear so badly in her life. She tore away from his gaze forcefully, skittering toward her dress that was laying on the floor by the door. Slipping away before his eyes.

"Kels, I'm sorry, I never meant-" He tried to defend but she stomped her heel hard into his foot. Riley shimmied into her dress on the other side of the room, fighting against the way her hands shook. "Fuck, can everybody just -" Holding his hands out as if he could still control this situation, Kelsey swatted them away.

"I'm going to go home, put your shit out on the curb, and change the lock. Go fuck yourself, Max." She snatched her purse off the floor by him before turning on her heel. Slowing to a stop when she caught sight of Riley by the door, she shook her head. "You can fucking keep him."

The door rattled shut behind her and plunged the room into a nuclear silence. Riley's eyes pinned to Max and the sting behind them finally made itself known, her chest aching so bad she thought it might cave in. She sucked in a breath, frozen to the ground.

"Riley, I can explain."

"Don't." She begged. "Please."

Sweeping up her purse from the couch, she backed toward the door and Max finally started after her.

"Please, stop, I know how this looks..."

"It looks like you have a live-in girlfriend, Max." She whirled on him with a devastated expression that she had tried so valiantly to control.

"Well...had, from the sounds of it." He mumbled but she glared daggers through him. Holding up his hands in a peace offering, he tried to get a step closer to her. "I'm sorry, I know. Fuck, I'm sorry."

"This was a mistake. I need to go." She tried to turn back toward the door but Max caught her hand. The shock it sent through her body knocked her off balance.

"Please don't go, Ry." He reeled her closer by the hand but she snatched it away from him. Darting around her, he stepped into her path toward the door. She tried to side step him but he kept in her way. "Please, I can't go back to life without you. I meant everything I said last night!" He pleaded and she sat back on her heel, stunned, the boiling guilt in her stomach turning over into simmering anger.

"Yeah, you meant it when you said you couldn't see yourself settling down with anyone but me?" Her entire body was trembling and she had stunned him into silence. "Looks like I was just never worth making the effort for. I mean, after all, I'm just a given, right." Her voice was cold as she tried to shoulder past him but he blocked her.

"C'mon, you're twisting my words!" He begged. "You know that's not what I meant. I am crazy about you, Riley, please, this doesn't change anything for me."

“It changes things for me.” She spat and he swayed back like she’d hit him. His pulse was threatening to spike him into the carpet. How had everything gone so wrong? “We make each other worse, Max. And I can’t do it anymore.” Finally managing to get past him, she made a break for the door.

Breezing through, she let it slam behind her, taking off as quickly as possible down the hallway, shoes be damned, she couldn't force herself to care. She picked up her pace at the sound of his door opening behind her, hustling toward the elevator. Maybe she was running away but she couldn't take any more, she needed to fly as many miles away from him as she could get and let her heart break in private.

"Riley!" He shouted after her, having slung his sweats on so quickly he nearly face planted. He couldn't let her get away, not this time, not when he knew he might never see her again if he let her slip away now. But she was jamming on the elevator button as if it would make it come faster, nervously glancing back. "Stop, Riley, come on!"

He didn’t take long to catch up to her, blocking the still-closed doors of the elevator with his body.

“Get out of the way.” She demanded, a hand on her hip.

“No. You can’t go like this. Not after last night.” His eyes pleaded with her, arms spread wide to barricade her path. Her gaze on him lingered but broke the second the elevator dinged above his head.

“Last night wasn’t real, Max.” She replied plainly as if it wasn’t another dagger through her chest. His shoulders slumped but he still didn’t move out of the open door. “Move.”

“Last night was as real as it gets, Riley, and you know it.” He insisted but she shook her head, eyes narrowed. “It was the most real night we’ve ever had.” The elevator doors attempted to close but he held them open forcefully.

“Well isn’t that sad for us?” She frowned, eyes drawn and dark, and Max’s arm fell. The sting behind her eyes was starting to eat away at her; she needed to get some distance now. She used the opportunity to slip past him, into the elevator.

“Riley, I need you…” He pleaded, but she clung to the back wall, just like she had the night before - she needed it now more than ever. Look at what a mess she made when she let herself off that tether.

“And I loved you." She confessed, sending his heart through his chest. " But I never want to see you again."

Max stumbled back a step, stricken, his eyes crawling over her, wide and desperate. The elevator slid closed between them and left them each in a suffocating silence, swallowing up all the oxygen around them.

Riley finally slumped down to the floor of the elevator, face falling in her hands. Her chest ached in a new and unbearable way that made her whole body shake. The pain radiated down to her toes, engulfing her.

Last night played on a loop in her mind. She was his, all his, every inch - that was what he said right? Her fingers traced delicately over the bruised skin he had left behind. All his. But never hers.

Her head fell back against the hard wall of the elevator, drawing in a shaky breath. Some palate cleanser, she thought bitterly. Eyes drifting shut, she wondered if every relationship she had ever been in hadn’t just been cleansing her palate of him.

But she wasn’t sure there was anything that could ever wipe this taste from her mouth. She had just decimated her palate all at once. Maybe that was for the best.

[mrsarcherofinfamy]

●Hook x Tattoo Artist Reader●

Summary: Hook discovers your tattoo art on Instagram.

_________________________________________

*Tyler's POV*

Sitting in the locker room with Orange, Kris, Willow, Trent and Chuck, I am scrolling through Instagram when I come across this tattoo artist page that catches my eye. I click on the page and start scrolling through the pictures. Trent comes over and sits next to me looking at my phone.

"Woah dude. Who's art is that? That is amazing!"

"Oh its this chick named Y/N."

Willow and Kris gasp and run over to the couch next to me.

"Oh my gosh! Y/N is so talented!"

"Yeah she did my tattoos!"

"Mine too! You have to go to her!"

"And I think Tyler would really like her if you know what I mean."

Willow nudges my side and I roll my eyes. The girls have been trying to get me a girlfriend for a long time and it hasn't worked out. Kris pulls out her phone and starts typing on it.

"I have an idea!"

She starts calling someone on speakerphone. I look over at her confused.

"Hellooo lady!"

"Hi Y/N!"

My eyes go wide looking over at Kris. Willow laughs at me.

"Is my other bestie there too?"

"Hi Y/N!"

"Hi Willow!"

"Y/N, we were wondering if you possibly have an opening tonight or tomorrow for someone new?"

"Is it a man? Better not be like the last one you brought me."

"Yes it is a man. And no nothing like that last one."

They are start laughing and I shake my head no at Kris. Kris smiles at me than looks at her phone.

"So I actually had a cancellation tonight so why don't you bring this mystery man with you at 6?"

"It's a date! See you than!"

"Bye!"

She hangs up the phone than looks over at me.

"Looks like you got a tattoo appointment tonight. Better figure out what you are getting."

"Thanks Kris."

I roll my eyes and go back to looking through her drawings to see which one I am going to get now.

_________________________________________

*Y/N's POV*

I am currently sweeping up the floor in my tattoo shop when I hear the bells on the door jingle. I look up seeing Kris and Willow walk in with two men walking behind them.

"Kris! Willow!"

I set the broom down against the wall and walk over to them.

"Y/N! How are you?"

"I'm good! How are you two?"

"Good! Good!"

"Awesome!"

I look over at the two men that came in with them.

"Who are these two?"

"Hi I'm Trent!"

He hugs me wrapping his arms around my head and I hug him back wrapping my arms around his waist. He pulls away keeping his arm around my neck.

"You are short."

I roll my eyes and push his arm off me walking up to Tyler.

"Hi. I'm Y/N."

"I'm Tyler."

"Oh, you are the one I am tattooing. Did you figure out what you want?"

I walk back to my section in the shop and he follows behind me as everyone else sits in the waiting area. He pulls out his phone and shows me the eyes that I posted on Instagram.

"Oh... you... you want one of my drawings?"

"Your drawings are incredible. I looked through all your pictures on Instagram. There is a couple of them that I wanna get."

"Thank you. I will go print out the stencil for you. Be back."

I grab my phone and walk over to my machine printing out different sizes. Kris and Willow walk up to me with big grins on their faces. I shake my head looking at them.

"Soooo whatcha think?"

Kris whispers to me and I look down blushing a little.

"He is cute."

I mumble still looking down at the floor and they laugh a little at me.

"And he said he went through all my drawings on Instagram and wants to get more later on."

"Oh he likes you already than."

Willow nudges my arm and I smile looking at her. I grab the stencils and look at them.

"Time for me to tattoo ladies."

"Go get your man."

I laugh walking back over to Tyler. I put the stencils on my little table infront of him.

"What size would you like?"

He looks through the sizes and picks out the middle size one. I take it from him and look at him.

"Okay. Next question. Where do you want it?"

He takes his hoodie off and I gulp seeing him not wearing a shirt underneath.

"I want it about here."

He points to below his neck on his back. I prep the area he wants than put the stencil on. I pull off the paper revealing the stencil on his back. I take a picture of it than walk infront him showing him the picture.

"How's that?"

"Looks amazing. Let's do it."

I get all my supplies ready and start tattooing him as he sits there playing on his phone.

_________________________________________

Finishing up the tattoo, I start wiping it down and cleaning it up.

"Mind if I take a picture?"

"Go ahead."

I pull my phone out of my pocket and snap a picture. I walk infront of him and show him the picture.

"Wow! That's amazing! You did a great job! Thank you so much!"

"Of course!"

I giggle looking at him. He pulls money out of his pocket.

"How much do I owe you for it?"

"A date."

"What?"

"You owe me a date. With you."

He stares at me for a minute than smiles. I giggle at him and put my hand on his shoulder.

"It's a deal!"

He stands up, kisses my cheek than walks over to Trent and they leave. Kris and Willow come running over to me.

"What was that?"

"Details!"

"He asked me how much I owe him for the tattoo. And I said he owes me a date. With him."

"Ooooo yes girl!"

"I think you two will be really good for each other!"

God I hope so!

[hookhausenschips]

Eternally Yours (Songfic Mini Series)

Word Count: 3,096

Summary: Hook and Y/N are devotedly in love, so much so that they are willing to sacrifice anything for the other person and ultimately be together “eternally” or will they?

Warnings: Angst lotttssss of angst, some toxic behaviors, Tyler is a neglectful partner, reader is in love (yikes sis)

Masterlist

Hook Taglist: @shawtys-things, @gethooked, @hope4more, @redpool, @lovethathookhausen730, @dgcrimson-garcia

Join my taglist here!

song: Eternally Yours by Motionless In White

A/N: this is my interpretation of the song! But I hope you all enjoy this, stay tuned for the next two parts of this mini series and keep your tissues on deck because they will hurtttt

next

Y/N’s POV

Blow the bridge to the past

Wipe the fingerprints

Melt your heart encased in wax

Steal it with a kiss

I had first met Tyler when he was a member of Team Taz back in 2021. Back before he was known as ‘The Cold Hearted Handsome Devil’, he was someone who was happy around his friends, especially his little group. I was just debuting in the women’s division slowly making a name for myself. I found myself being enamored by him. They say love can make you do stupid things, but he made every waking moment worth it. He showed me how to be myself again.

“Tyler you have to get going for your match or else your dad will kill us both.” I spoke as I pulled away from him. He smirked looking at my lips, “Just one more for good luck.” I rolled my eyes and gave him a brief kiss before pushing him towards the Guerilla, “Go become a champion baby.” I said with a lovesick grin on my face. He winked and left through the tunnels towards his destiny.

Our fate engraved

Scar enslaved

As we mutually destruct

Repose, my love, I've sinned enough

A year had flown by and we were going strong. The entire roster could see how in love we were, even the fans even though we hadn’t confirmed it to them. They all knew though. I knew in my heart he was who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I have never felt so seen, heard, understood, or loved the way that Tyler did. He was undefeated as FTW champion and I was working my way to my own championship. We tried our best to see each other as much as we could, and those moments I hold dear.

“Come on please just one ride?” Tyler begged as I shook my head furiously looking at the humongous roller coaster. The anxiety made my stomach cramp up and my throat close at the thought of the tall drops the ride had. “You jump off of a metal square and do all those flips with no thought about it but a roller coaster is where you draw the line?” He questioned as he wrapped his arms around me. I nodded, “That is different. I have control over those, that thing I don’t. Do you know how many people die on roller coasters?” I exclaimed pointing at the pile of metal. I could feel his body shake as he laughed, “Yeah no more watching Final Destination. Tesoro, I promise you will be fine. I will be right beside you.” He tried to reassure me but I shook my head once again. “Go ride it with the lads, I’ll be right here.” I replied. “What kind of boyfriend would I be to ditch my incredibly beautiful girlfriend at Six Flags? I’m staying with you.” He said. 

I giggled knowing he was being overprotective, “You do realize they shut the park down for the roster, no one is going to bother me. Go ride that ride, you can join me on CraZanity.” I said giving him a kiss and pushing him towards our friends.

Falling for him was so easy.

For the both of us

In the name of love

I'm ready to bury all of my bones

I'm ready to lie but say I won't

So tell me your secrets

And join me in pieces

To rot in this garden made of stones

Eternally yours

“Why can’t you understand that I want to be with you!” I exclaimed as I felt tears burn my eyes. He just stood there emotionless. “I don’t care what anyone says or does because they’re not you! For two years I have done nothing but stand by your side, through every win and loss. I have been there.” I then gestured to our championships both laying limply on the couch, “Those mean nothing to me. You are the one true prize for me Tyler. Nothing else in this world means anything if I don’t have you.” I sobbed. Closing my eyes I tried to gather my thoughts when I felt his arms embrace me. My body shook as my tears stained his hoodie. He began to slowly sway back and forth. ‘What a stupid fight’ I thought to myself, all over a stupid romantic storyline Tony Khan thought would be a great push for my career as champion. I pulled back and looked into the earthy brown irises that I called home, “I would sacrifice that title and my career if it meant that you were happy. I can call Tony right now and tell him I’m done.” I whispered. He shook his head and pulled my head back to his chest. We were going to be okay, we had to be.

I feed like you taught me and selflessly swallow

We coalesce in darkness, so selfishly hollow

Examine the wreckage

Writhing in tempo

Invisible anguish, casting a shadow

I was currently laying outside of the ring trying to catch my breath after being slammed into the barricade by Julia. Tyler was in the ring with Brody from what I could tell the two were exchanging blows after being tagged in. Julia had run back to her side of the ring cheering on Brody. I slowly began to rise to my feet, my heart stopped beating in my chest at what I had seen. Brody had Tyler in a chokehold holding over the other side of the ring. My thoughts of professionalism went out the door then and there. While the ref was distracted I rushed to one of the security guards and told him to move. I then rolled into the ring with the metal chair and hit Brody with the chair causing him to drop Tyler. The ref called for a disqualification but I could care less. This match wasn’t for any championships, all I could think about was Tyler passing out and the thought terrified me. 

“I had it handled! You should’ve never even grabbed the chair.” Tyler seethed. I just looked at him as he continued on his tangent. Yes he had a right to be angry at me but all I could think about was his well being. I rolled my eyes, “yeah and what just watch you be choked out and then possibly dropped so you can be injured?” He whipped around at my statement, “It wasn’t your call! That was ignorance and selfishness. Brody has been doing this a lot longer than both of us. I trust him.” He retorted. I laughed sarcastically. “Well excuse me for caring about MY boyfriend.” I said before leaving the locker room with my things. This feels like the millionth fight we have had recently, practically over nothing. It was causing a strain on our relationship and I could tell it was hurting us both, but we were both too stubborn to apologize. 

And in the name of love

I'm ready to bury all of my bones

I'm ready to lie but say I won't

So tell me your secrets

And join me in pieces

To rot in this garden made of stones

Eternally yours

As we rest in pieces, though I know not your name

I would suffer forever to absolve all your pain

I lay in another hotel room bed alone. The fight with Tyler still replaying through my head as I scroll through my photos trying to think of happier times. I stopped at a picture of the two of us at one of his family cookouts, it was the first time I had met them. I smile at the memory. I laughed at a story one of Tyler’s cousins, Elena told me about him when they were younger. “No yeah his dad was so pissed but I mean he didn’t end up wrecking surprisingly. He wasn’t allowed to drive for the rest of the school year. So don’t ever bet him in anything because he will try to prove you wrong.” She said as I shook my head taking a sip of my drink when his aunt, Elena’s mom, butted in. “So have you guys said it yet?” She asked. My face flushed as the group of girls giggled. I shook my head, “No not yet.” I whispered. She nodded and placed her hand on my arm, “No need to worry pesca or have any doubt about it. The eyes never lie and I have never seen my nipote look at anyone the way he looks at you. His eyes shine! I can tell you feel the same as well.” She spoke (peach, nephew). I nodded and looked to where Tyler stood with his dad and uncles at the grill talking, “I do love him. A lot actually.” The cousins squealed, causing the guys to look up at us. My eyes locked with Tyler and he winked at me, my face flushed again and he smirked at my reaction. 

We then were in his parent’s kitchen doing the dishes, me washing and him drying as Taz and Theresa were relaxing in the den, setting up some board games. “Did you have fun today?” Tyler asked as I handed him a glass. I nodded and smiled softly, “Your cousins told me what you were like growing up. A very mischievous and bad kid you were if those stories are true.” I teased as I turned to look at him. He groaned but I could tell he wasn’t upset or bothered by the smile on his face. “What ones did they tell you?” He asked before putting the glass away and then placing his hands on my hips, his thumbs massaging the little peak of skin showing from my shirt rising. I shook my head, “I can’t tell you that. My lips are sealed.” I said mimicking locking a lock on my lips and throwing away the key. He quirked his eyebrow, “I think I can find some ways to get them unsealed baby.” he whispered. I smacked his chest, “Your parents are in the other room, keep it in your pants Senerchia.” He grinned, “I wasn’t even thinking that but if you’re offering..” He trailed off. I giggled, leaned up and pecked his lips, “Beat me in these games and I’ll think about it baby.” 

I sighed at the memory, what a happier time. A less complicated time in our love story. God stop getting emotional y/n, if he wanted to be here he would be.

I'm ready to bleed to make amends

And sleep in this dirt we call our bed

So tell me your secrets

And join me in pieces

To fall and rewrite the bitter end

Eternally yours

It’s now week three of us not speaking. I have been told from multiple friends how miserable the two of us are without the other. Clearly the fights we’ve had the past few months say differently. This time I didn’t let him in my hotel room because he never showed up. There was no make up angry sex to “fix” us. I was snapped out of my thoughts as Kris, Willow, and Skye kept repeating my name. “Yeah I’m here.” I whispered as we sat in one of the unused locker rooms talking. “We’re going to catering, we’ll be right back okay?” Kris asked. I nodded as the group left. My thoughts began to consume me again as I laid on one of the many couches. A few minutes later the door reopened and I assumed it was the girls so I continued laying down letting my thoughts eat away at me. But then I heard the door handle rattle. I froze hearing a familiar deep voice, “This shit isn’t funny. Open the door now.” I then heard several voices, “Not until you guys make up. We’re tired of the gloomy cloud hanging around you two. Make up; fight it out, or fuck it out!” I sighed and closed my eyes trying to ignore him and the heavy beating of my heart. It felt like hours continued to pass by fast before I opened my eyes. I looked over and he was sat by the door across the room glaring at his phone. 

He had dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t look like himself, the actual Tyler. I cleared my throat trying to ease the tense and somewhat awkward atmosphere. “How’ve you been?” I whispered. I received silence as an answer. I rolled my eyes, “Oh yeah I’ve been great too thanks for asking. Nope lost my championship a couple weeks back, but I’ll bounce back to get it. I won’t stay down forever.” I spoke sarcastically. Still silence greeted me. I could feel my patience begin to thin. “Fine you don’t have to talk but I will ask you one question.” I said and he continued typing away on his phone. “Are we broken up? Because if we are, it would've been nice to know instead of tearing apart my heart for someone who doesn’t want it anymore.” I questioned. He stopped typing, almost dropping his phone. He finally looked at me, his eyes dark as they looked me over. I picked at my nails nervously waiting for an answer. “You don’t think I love you anymore?” He countered. I laughed, “Funny way you have of showing it Tyler. Ignore me for three weeks, my texts or any time I try to talk you walk away. You wouldn’t even look at me. That isn’t love. So no, I don’t think you love me anymore. Not as much as you used to or maybe even not at all. So get on with it so I can deal with this heartbreak and heal finally.” I spoke. He set his phone down still watching me. “I do still love you.” He whispered. “You don’t have to lie to me, you’re only hurting us both by doing that.” I argued. He shook his head, “I know there isn’t any amount of things I can say to make you forgive me ever but I will always love you. Nothing or anyone will change that.” He said as he stood and walked towards the couch sitting in front of it.

 “I know I haven’t been the most perfect boyfriend or loving lately. I could give a million excuses but none of them can go back and fix this. Seeing you with Isiah and Daniel hanging out together you looked so happy, it made me think what if you left me for either of them or someone else. Those thoughts destroyed me. I should’ve been a man about my insecurities and told you about them but instead I took the anger from those thoughts out on you. If I could give you the universe to make you happy I would do it. The love I have for you runs deeper than the ocean. I don’t picture anyone else being the mother of my kids or anyone I want to grow old and happy with but you. God y/n I’m terrified. I’m terrified of the way you make me feel after all these years.” Tyler rambled pouring out his heart and every thought in that moment. “I would rob a bank or go to prison for killing someone if they made you cry. I would do anything for you. The world means nothing to me without you in it. Please tell me what I can do to help fix this.” He begged as tears trailed down his face. I hadn’t realized I was crying too until he reached up cupping my cheek and wiping some away. I sniffled, “Love isn’t easy Tyler. If it was there would be a guidebook to it. You’re the only one who has my heart and the only one who ever will. In this lifetime and all the others, you are the one I want.” I whispered, placing my hand on his cheek as he leaned into it. “We can work through this, we’ve worked through worse.” I said before kissing him.

I'm more than willing to rot in hell with you

I'm ready to bury all of my bones

I'm ready to lie but say I won't

So tell me your secrets

And join me in pieces

To rot in this garden made of stones

I'm ready to bleed to make amends

And sleep in this dirt we call our bed

So tell me your secrets

And join me in pieces

To fall and rewrite the bitter end

Eternally yours

I was standing with Tyler taking pictures at a small event AEW was hosting. When suddenly the lights went down and a video started playing (A/N: based off this tiktok I seen last year and fell in love with). I turned towards the screen and leaned against Tyler as it played. I smiled watching the video until it showed a picture of Tyler on one knee. I gasped and turned to look as he was on one knee holding a black velvet box with a gorgeous ring as tears flooded down my face surrounded by friends and family. “Y/n, we’ve been through many things these past two years. Through everything we always find a way back to each other. You’re the one person I look for in the crowd during every show. The one person who understands the hardships of what we do. You’ve challenged me in many ways and you’ve helped me become a better version of myself everyday. I know we’re not perfect and neither is our love but I know there is no one else in this world I would rather share this life and love with. I would go through every storm for you, burn down every empire to make you happy. You make the world brighter around you no matter where you go. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, share this life with you and hear all the random little facts you read about or the dumb little dad jokes you know.” He spoke before grabbing my hand, “So Y/n will you marry me?” He asked, smiling at me with tears welling up in his eyes. I nodded and whispered, “Yes. Oh my god yes!” Everyone cheered as Tyler placed the ring on my finger and we kissed. Yeah our love wasn’t perfect or the most beautiful thing to grace the planet, but it was ours and that was all that matters. I can’t wait to be Mrs. Senerchia.

[sydsaint]

You're still champion of my heart baby <3

Summary: Tyler faces his toughest fight yet against Chris Jericho with PLE implications. Luckily for him, Tyler's girlfriend isn't above getting her hands dirty in order to help her man win.

You finish up your match against Emi Sakura, managing to earn a quick win against the Japanese legend. After celebrating in with a few fans on your way up the ramp, you head back to the locker room to see if Tyler's left yet.

"Ty? You in here?" You announce yourself as you come through the locker room door.

"Yeah." Tyler replies dryly from somewhere inside the locker room. "You beat, Emi?" He asks you as you shut the door behind you.

You snort and nod. "Course I did, look at who you're talking to." You laugh.

"Right." Tyler laughs with you.

You clean up some excess sweat from your body and throw on a shirt over your ring gear while Tyler idles on his phone like usual.

"Shouldn't you be headed out to the ring to talk with Jericho's annoying ass?" You ask Tyler after you're done changing.

"Yeah, unfortunately." Tyler nods. "I can't believe that he went and whined to my dad." He grumbles.

You snort and agree. "Look at who you're talking about, Ty." You remind him. "Jericho is a total snake. And he's ugly so,"

"You did warn me." Tyler nods. "I'm headed out. Wanna walk with me?" He asks you.

"Sure." You shrug and head over to the door.

Tyler pulls open the door for you and the two of you head down to the tunnel. You stop right at the tunnel entrance and watch Tyler head through it. You hang back since you know that he doesn't need you for this. Not with a shmuck like Chris Jericho.

You hang around backstage and watch the confrontation in the ring from the monitors set up in various places. You roll your eyes at Chris' arrogance, silently praying that Tyler just decks him.

"Oh what the fuck!?" You curse the air when Jericho decides to take a shot at Taz.

Tyler handles the situation, getting into Chris's face. But your worry for Taz gets the better of you. You head down to the ring from the back way so you don't take the spotlight away from Tyler.

"Taz!" You rush over to his side as he carefully rolls out of the ring. "Are you alright?" You help him down to the floor.

"Yeah, I'm alright, kid." Taz assures you, but you notice that his knee is obviously bothering him.

You set a cautious and gentle hand on Taz's shoulder and walk with him back over to the commentary table. Tyler takes a second to glance your way and you flash him a quick thumbs up. Ty nods at your assuring gesture and goes right back to getting in Jericho's face.

"You sure that you're okay, Taz?" You ask Taz again once he's at down.

"I'm good." Taz nods. "Come on, give me some credit, kid. I ain't quite that old yet." He chuckles. "But I appreciate the concern."

You nod and slink back around the tunnel to the backstage area to wait for Tyler to come back.

A few minutes later Tyler comes stomping through the tunnel with a foul air about him. You walk over to him and try your best to tame the beast before he thinks about doing something drastic.

"Tyler! Hey!" You rush over to Tyler's side.

"Is my dad alright?" Tyler asks you, venom in his tone.

You nod and put a hand on Tyler's arm. "Yeah, he said that he was okay." You assure him. "Come on, let's head back to the locker room and get our stuff so we can get out of here." You give his arm a small tug away from the tunnel since Chris is still out in the ring.

"Thanks for going out there and checking on him, YN." Tyler relaxes a little bit.

"Yeah, of course." You nod and begin pulling him along. "And hey, you'll get another shot at kicking Jericho's ass, okay? In the ring. Properly." You glance his way while you're walking with him.

Tyler's jaw clenches in frustration. "He's lucky that I didn't lay him out right then and there." He insists.

"I know, baby." You rub Tyler's arm, still making sure to put as much distance between him and anything Chris Jericho related as possible.

Sunday night rolls around and it's time for Dynasty. You're not scheduled for a match on the card so you opt to hang around backstage and provide Tyler with all the support that he needs tonight.

Tyler's been in a foul mood since Wednesday, and if you weren't a hater then you'd be fearing for Chris Jericho's well being right now.

"You want me out there with you?" You ask Tyler while he's getting ready for his match.

"Nah." Tyler shakes his head. "I can do this by myself." He assures you. "Can you maybe hang with my dad on commentary though?" He asks you.

You nod, surprised that Ty seems worried about his dad. "Yeah, sure." You pull your shoes back on while Tyler finishes getting ready.

The time comes for Tyler's match and the two of you head out. You let Tyler do his entrance by himself and go the back way down to the commentary table. Taz pulls up a chair for you to sit next to him in, but you decline his offer of a headset.

Chris saunters out to the ring after Tyler with his usual smug aura. You roll your eyes at the challenger as he passes the commentary desk but remain in your seat.

The bell rings and the match gets underway, and just like you suspected. It doesn't take long for the bout to get violent. You sit in silence next to Taz while Tyler and Chris go at it beating the crap out of one-another. You wince each time Chris uses a dirty tactic to try and get the upper hand and your anger grows with each second.

"Oh no." Taz slips his headset off his head once Chris retrieves his metal bat from where he was stashing it under the ring.

Tyler barely managed to kick-out of Jericho's last pinning attempt. So you know if Chris lands this than it's over for your boyfriend.

"Oh, fuck no!" You jump out of your seat and slip past Taz.

You rush around the ring and shove Jericho to the floor while's he's got his back turned away from you. Chris's bat goes flying out of his hands and you pick it up.

"Ty might be to proud to be a cheater, Chris." You stare down Jericho as he gets to his feet slowly. "But I'm not like my boyfriend."

You swing the bat at Jericho and it collides with his head. The blow instantly crumples Chris to his knees and you drop the bat. Tyler finally stirs in the ring so you haul Jericho's fat ass up and roll him into the ring before calmly walking back over to the commentary table.

You are met by Taz who looks at you with adoration like you've never seen on the man's face before.

In the ring, Tyler gets to his feet and locks in REDRUM on Chris, not that it's need after your handwork. Aubrey calls a stop to the match after checking on Chris and the bell rings. You pluck the FTW championship from it's perch at the timekeepers area and make your way into the ring.

Tyler lifts himself back to his feet again and you hand his championship back to him. "I knew you could do it." You smile at him and lift his hand in the air in victory.

"Thanks for the help, babe." Tyler whispers to you, secretly proud that you didn't let any of Chris's bullshit slide.

The crowd cheers for Tyler and you hear Taz mention you back at the commentary table proudly. Chris Jericho has been silenced and all is right in the world again.

[discow1tch]

Nicknames

Summary: Austin Gunn confronts you over "ass boy" chants after a match

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･ ───

Tags/warnings/tropes: reader insert, aew employee reader, implied romantic relationship, light teasing (giving), PDA, kayfabe compliant

Authors Notes: I am unfortunately very into Bullet Club Gold. This fic hasn't been beta-read. If you notice any errors please let me know!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･ ───

When the match ends you make your way backstage. Production staff are nice enough to direct you towards the arena's dressing rooms when you show them your badge. Normally, you'd just meet the boys out in the parking lot or at their hotel after the show but you want to congratulate them on their victory while it's still fresh.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･ ───

You can tell you're in the right area when you start seeing wrestlers you recognize. First, it's Hook looking sullen as ever seated on a stack of palettes with a bag of chips. Then Caster and Bowens workshopping their next rap. And then finally, Anna Jay who breaks off the animated conversation she's having with 2point0 to say hi. The two of you talk for a minute before you notice Austin coming out of the dressing room at the far end of the hallway.

His hair is still damp from showering and he's changed into sweats and a t-shirt. He gives a big stretch of his arms over his head before leaning up against the wall and pulling out his phone. A few specks of errant glitter glint on the exposed skin at his collar as he moves. It's a good look on him.

You say your goodbyes to Anna and rush to greet him.

At the sound of your approaching footsteps he looks over. You send him a smile and give a little wave but he doesn't return it. When you reach him he pushes off the wall to face you with a frown on his face.

"Hey! You guys were great out there tonight!" You throw an arm around his side to give him a quick hug that he just barely reciprocates.

"I saw you joining in on the chants." Austin accuses as you separate. You cringe but quickly cover it with a smile.

"Of course I did. That's what you're supposed to do at a wrestling show." You'd hoped that maybe he hadn't noticed or that in the excitement of winning he'd forgotten seeing your lips move at ringside.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about." he turns to cage you against the wall, forearms at either side of your head. Austin isn't tall for a professional wrestler but he still towers over you. Pale eyes stare you down with an angry frustration that's usually reserved for his opponents. You've never seen it directed your way before.

"If it was just 'holy shit' or 'ay-ee-dub' it wouldn't be a problem but I saw you chanting 'ass boys'." he continues.

"What, you don't like me calling you an Ass Boy?" you ask with exaggerated obliviousness as you bring your hands up to rest on his sides.

"It's not exactly something I appreciate." he says as he presses his weight into you. It occurs to you that he's close enough now that you could kiss him if you wanted to.

"So you're denying that you have an incredible ass?" you question. His angry facade cracks into a smile and a wave of laughter that's more like the Austin you know overtakes him. His head falls forward to rest against yours.

"Let's not go that far. My ass is pretty great."

[haddonfieldwhore]

we make a good team - darby allin

darby allin x gn!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: briefly suggestive?, sting is readers father, language

summary: when you and darby are paired as a tag team, he helps you with your ring gear

your whole life you had been surrounded by wrestling, so it was no surprise to your father sting, when you told him you wanted to follow in his footsteps. after years of training and practice and tryouts, last year you had finally made it to aew, and had an impressive first run on the roster. the feuds you had recently been a part of had ended a few weeks ago, and tony had told you a few days ago that you would be doing a short tag team run with darby allin, who was a protege of your fathers. if it went over well with the fans, you would continue as a team for a while and go after the tag titles.

you and darby had become quite close in the short time you had been with the company, sharing similar styles and interests, as well as being close in age. sting was happy to see the two of you getting along, and your character fit perfectly with their aesthetic, under your ring name ‘thorn’. you and darby had been practicing for your match for days, and something about working so closely with him had made you realize that you had developed a crush on him. sometimes it seemed like maybe he felt the same, but you didn’t want to risk ruining your new partnership before your first match; and his friendship meant a lot to you, and you didn’t want to risk it.

“hey,” darby walked into the dressing room the two of you were sharing, as you stood in front of the mirror in your ring gear. you had gotten a new outfit for this tag team run; pants with one leg that was black and one leg that was white, a simple white tank top, and black boots. darby sat in front of the mirror, and took out a makeup case that contained his face paints, before he began getting ready for the match that was in about an hour. he was already dressed in his outfit for the night, plain black jeans and boots, and a black cloak-like hoodie over his shirtless torso. thankfully, he was too focused on his face paint to notice you staring, admiring his toned abs that were on display under the cloak.

“are you nervous?”

“no, are you?” he replied, not taking his eyes off his reflection in front of him. you tugged at your shirt, unhappy with the way it looked; like it was missing something.

“no,” you lied. “i don’t know. what if i screw this up and make you look bad?” darby laughed, glancing over at you before going back to his makeup.

“you’re worried about making me look bad?”

“well- yeah,” you admitted, still fiddling with your top. “and i don’t know about this outfit. maybe i should just wear my normal gear.” you started walking over to your bag to find a last minute alternative. darby set down his paintbrush and walked over to you, gently dragging you back over to the mirror.

“you look amazing. what don’t you like about it?” he asked, standing behind you and looking over your shoulder at your reflection in the mirror. you hoped he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest as his hands remained on your arms.

“i feel like the top is missing something,” you admitted, not allowing yourself to be distracted by the scent of his cologne, a mixture of a sweet musky smell and a subtle bit of mint.

“i think you look great,” he mumbled as his eyes scanned the length of your body in the mirror, before he shook his head slightly, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. his hands resting on your biceps have you a stupid but enticing idea - something you had seen online once.

“don’t be nervous okay? you’re gonna do great.” darby rested his chin on your shoulder, making eye contact with you in the mirror, stepping impossibly closer to you until your back was pressed against his chest, his arms wrapping around your stomach from behind. your breath caught in your throat; could it be possible that he also had feelings for you? surely friends didn’t look at eachother like that, you thought. darby walked back over to his paints and began putting them away, before you decided ‘fuck it’, and turned towards him.

“i actually did have an idea - for the shirt i mean; but it’s kinda hard to explain.”

“okay?” he looked at you expectantly, and you sighed, before walking over to him.

“do you trust me?” you asked, and darby looked at you confused, but nodded. you grabbed a larger paint brush from his open makeup case, along with the black paint and nervously took his wrist in your hand, turning his palm towards you.

“what are you-“

“just let me do this before i chicken out,” you said, and he smiled, laughing softly as you began to paint his hand black. once it was fully coated in paint, you did the same to the other hand; darby watching intently as you applied the dark pigment to his skin. you set the brush and paint down on the counter and carefully grabbed his wrist, bringing him back over to the mirror and standing in front of him again. taking each of his wrists in your hands, you brought them around you and placed his palms against your chest, leaving two black handprints on the front of your shirt, before you let go of his hands. you looked up, your eyes meeting his in the mirror as he let out a breath, the air tickling the back of your neck from how close he was once again.

“you are going to be the death of me,” he mumbled, and you turned around to look at him directly.

“isn’t death kind of your thing?” you asked, and darby laughed softly, looking down at you.

“i think i kinda have a thing for you, too.” he whispered, stepping as close as he could without smudging the paint on your shirt. he wanted to touch you so bad, to pull you closer, but couldn’t risk getting paint all over, so instead he pressed the unpainted side of his forehead to yours.

“i really want to kiss you right now,” he mumbled, and your heart pounded against your ribcage, before you replied with all the confidence you could manage.

“what’s stopping you?” darby cracked a smile, laughing to himself before he pressed his lips to yours. you kissed him back, and he had to remember not to touch you as his hands were still covered in paint, or he would’ve held you close. you pulled away, looking at his face to make sure his face paint hadn’t smeared too much. he smiled, pointing to your lip, and you looked in the mirror to see that there was a tiny bit of black paint there. you grabbed a tissue, wiping it off as darby walked over to his makeup case and grabbed some wipes to clean his hands off. once they were clean, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you over to him, gripping your waist and helping you sit on the counter in front of him. he stood between your legs, kissing you again; face paint be damned. his teeth nibbled at your bottom lip, and you moaned softly before you both pulled away.

“i’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, using his thumb to wipe any paint off your lip.

“i’ve wanted you to; i just didn’t know how to ask.”

“you definitely found a creative way. the shirt looks great,” he smirked, admiring his handprints on your chest. you blushed, letting him help you off the counter, before he quickly touched up his own makeup.

“you feeling ready to go out there and kick some ass?” he asked, and you checked over your appearance one more time in the mirror.

“let’s do it,” you smiled, and darby tapped his fist gently against yours, before taking your hand in his, grabbing his skateboard with the other.

“do you think you could teach me to skate one day?” you asked as the two of you walked down the hallway to wait for your match to start.

“sure,” darby laughed. “if your dad doesn’t kill me when he sees your shirt.”

[midwestmade29]

Sweet Girl 🤍

Well, @coleskingdom's efforts to turn me into a Jay White lover haven't completely failed because here I am posting a smutty fic about him! Thanks for opening my eyes to this handsome man with the most delicious accent 🫠 This story is for you girl 🖤 Word count: 1,226 Divider by: @saradika-graphics GIF is not mine • Disclaimers: Cursing, oral sex, unprotected sex. Read at your own discretion.

After changing the plans he had with you, Jay finds a way to make up for it...

Life had been pretty busy lately for you and Jay. The original plan for your evening was for the two of you to spend some much-needed time together, but that got thrown out the window when Austin and Colten called. They asked if Jay would join them at the gym, catching him hook, line, and sinker when they mentioned they wanted to discuss their next course of action against their own father and his scissoring counter parts. You knew something was up when Jay kept looking in your direction during the phone call all while responding to questions with a simple “Mhmm” or “Yeah.” When he finally hung up, he gave you a sympathetic grin as he walked over to you, his gray eyes silently pleading with you to not be mad at him for what he was about to say. You held up your hands to stop whatever was about to come out of his mouth, saying your own thoughts instead, “Let me guess, there’s been a change of plans?” His silence was all the answer you needed. You crossed your arms and scoffed, turning your head to the side to break eye contact with Jay. He walked up to you and rubbed your arms with his hands while keeping his voice low and sweet, “I know tonight was supposed to be our night sweet girl, but the children need me,” he joked, leaving you less than amused. “Seriously, you’re breaking our plans for Austin and Colten? They’re practically glued to your hip, Jay! I think they’ll be just fine without you for one damn night,” you hissed. “I promise, I won’t be gone long. When I get back, I’m all yours! I’ll find a way to make it up to you, sweet girl,” Before you could protest, Jay kissed your forehead and nearly darted for the door.

An hour went by, and your anger finally dissipated. Instead of sitting around and stewing, you decided to pour yourself a glass of wine and enjoy a hot bubble bath. When you walked to the kitchen to place your empty glass in the sink, you nearly jumped out of your skin- and your towel when Jay snuck up behind you! He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close and nuzzling his face into your neck. “Miss me?” he asked arrogantly. You shimmied free of his embrace, turning around so you could see him. “Actually, I didn’t think about you once,” you quipped. You tried to stand firm, but your body was already giving you away. 

The truth is, he’s all you thought about during your bath. Your thoughts had nothing to do with him ditching you, instead, they were focused on how good his hands felt on your body whenever he touched you. They were focused on how soft his lips are and how much you wanted to kiss them. Your thoughts were focused on the way his muscles were taut and predominant after a good workout. Jay already knew you were bullshitting him, so he called you on your bluff, “You sure about that, Y/N? The flush of your cheeks says otherwise,” You didn’t dare stroke his ego, so you rolled your eyes and continued to deny everything, “That could just be from the wine you know,” 

Your determination to throw him off your scent made Jay let out a soft chuckle. He took a few steps forward and pinned your body up against the kitchen counter with his own, “No, no. I don’t think that’s it. But there’s no sense in arguing when I have yet to show you how I plan on making tonight up to you,” he said with a smirk. “Care to know what I had in mind?” With Jay’s lips being mere inches away from your own, and the feeling of his body pressed against yours, you knew you were already done for. You swallowed hard and nodded your head “yes,” giving Jay the green light to continue. Within seconds, he removed your towel and lifted you up before placing you down on the countertop! He admired the view that was now before him before pulling your lower half closer to the edge and spreading your legs with his hands, “I’d hold onto something if I were you, sweet girl. I don’t plan on stopping until you’re a quivering mess,”

Jay expertly maneuvered his tongue around your most sensitive parts, drawing moan after moan from you. His tongue flicked and swirled against your clit while his fingers worked their magic inside of you. He could tell you were on the brink of orgasming when your fingers weaved themselves in his hair and pulled, a string of unintelligible words and curses fell from your lips. He made sure his word was good when he made you cum so hard that it made your entire body shake against his mouth! “Mmm, I could listen to you make those noises all night,” he murmured against your thigh. He planted a soft kiss there before standing up, “In fact, I think I will. Come on sweet girl, I’m not done with you just yet,”

With your weakened legs wrapped around his waist, Jay carried you to the bedroom and placed you on the bed. You watched intently as he removed his clothes and tossed them aside before positioning himself between your legs. The tip of his hard length brushed up against your core, causing both of you to groan at the sensation! “So, so wet for me! I know you’ll feel just as good as you tasted,” Jay purred against your neck. His facial hair brushed up against your delicate skin there, causing goosebumps to cover your entire body and you to melt underneath him even more. He positioned himself at your entrance and rested his body weight on his forearms before inching himself inside of you painstakingly slow. His length stretched and filled you, your walls tugging and pulling him with each drawn out push of his hips. “Please, Jay! I need more,” you cried out. “F-fuck me, I want you to fuck me!” He heard and understood your plea when he began moving in and out of you faster and much deeper than before. He was hitting all the right spots inside of you, each time his cock brushed up against them you felt yourself getting closer and closer to toppling over the edge. “You’re so beautiful like this, Y/N. All tousled and consumed by bliss! I was a fool to leave you earlier.” Jay said breathlessly. His movements became sloppy and erratic the closer he got to his release, but he wanted to make you unravel first, “Come on, Y/N! Let yourself go for me a second time. Give me one more, sweet girl,”

Jay captured your lips with his as you came for the second time that night. Your body trembled while he continued thrusting his hips as he chased his own release. You felt his length twitch inside of you as ropes of his cum filled you to the brim. Jay’s breathing was ragged as he savored every last second of pleasure coursing through him, all the while he planted kisses around your face. “My sweet girl, you did so beautifully for me,” he whispered. “It would seem that you did miss me while I was gone after all…”