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Monday mornings in airports always looked the same. Half-asleep travellers shuffled towards departure gates with coffees clutched like lifelines. Suitcases rattled endlessly across polished floors. Announcements echoed through the terminal every few minutes, barely loud enough to drown out the steady murmur of conversations and the occasional burst of laughter from families beginning their holidays.

For most people, airports were stressful. For wrestlers, they were just another Monday.

"You know" Austin Theory yawned loudly as he adjusted the strap of his duffel bag. "I've spent more time in airports this year than I've spent in my own apartment."

You glanced sideways. "Probably."

"I don't think that's healthy."

"You wrestle for a living."

"Exactly." He sighed dramatically. "I should get frequent flyer therapy."

You snorted quietly. "I don't think that's a thing."

"It should be."

Bron walked a few steps ahead, one hand wrapped around a black coffee, the other tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. As usual, he wasn't contributing much to the conversation. He rarely did before ten in the morning.

Maxxine, on the other hand, somehow looked like she'd already conquered the day. She walked beside Austin with a fresh coffee in one hand and enough energy to make everyone else look exhausted. "I think airports are fun."

Austin looked at her in disbelief. "You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You enjoy this?"

"I like people watching."

"I like sleeping."

You smiled faintly to yourself, letting their conversation fade into the background as your attention drifted elsewhere. The airport wasn't particularly interesting. Just another chain terminal with the same polished floors, the same cafés and the same souvenir shops every other city seemed to have.

Still something caught your eye. A clothing store sat just ahead, its front display filled with oversized hoodies, vintage-style jackets and stacks of folded sweatshirts. Your gaze lingered for barely a few seconds. One hoodie in particular hung on a mannequin near the entrance. Oversized, heavyweight, charcoal grey, faded enough to look lived in. Simple. No loud logos. No bright colours. Exactly the kind of thing you'd wear until it practically fell apart.

You slowed almost instinctively.

Maxxine noticed. "What?"

You nodded towards the window. "Nice hoodie."

She followed your gaze. "Oh, that's cute."

"It is."

Austin barely looked. "It's just grey."

You shrugged. "I like grey."

"I know you do."

Maxxine laughed. "I don't think I've ever seen you voluntarily wear colour."

"I own green."

"You own dark green."

"It still counts."

Austin shook his head. "Y'all dress like you're permanently attending someone's funeral."

You looked at him completely deadpan.

"I've never trusted people who wear neon."

He placed a hand over his heart. "That was personal."

"It was."

Maxxine giggled. "You two bicker like siblings."

"We do not."

"You absolutely do."

You smiled slightly before taking one last glance at the hoodie. It was nice, really nice but you already owned more hoodies than your wardrobe comfortably held. Besides, there wasn't much point buying another one.

With a quiet shrug, you kept walking. Within seconds, your attention had moved on completely.

A few minutes later, the four of you had settled near your gate. Austin immediately collapsed into one of the seats with another dramatic sigh. "If this flight gets delayed" He pointed vaguely towards the departure board. "I'm going home."

"You are home."

"You know what I mean."

Maxxine laughed, sitting beside him. You rested your backpack by your feet before pulling your headphones from one of the pockets. The terminal buzzed quietly around you. People hurried past. Children ran circles around tired parents. Someone nearby argued with a vending machine. Normal, comfortable. You'd just started scrolling through your playlist when a familiar shadow stopped in front of you.

 You looked up, Bron.

He held out a shopping bag.

You frowned. "What's this?"

He simply lifted it a little higher. "Yours."

You blinked. "What?"

"The hoodie."

For a second your brain completely failed to catch up. "What hoodie?"

He looked at you like the answer was obvious. "The one you stopped for."

Realisation dawned. Your eyes dropped to the logo printed on the side of the bag, the same shop. "You went back?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"When you were talking."

"I was talking for, like, two minutes."

"Long enough."

You stared at him. "Bron."

"What?"

"You bought it?"

He nodded once. "You liked it."

Your fingers slowly closed around the handles of the bag. "I" A laugh escaped you. "I was just looking."

"I know."

"So why'd you buy it?"

He shrugged. "That's your colour."

Silence. Not because it was a particularly grand statement. Because he said it with complete certainty. As though there had never been another possible outcome.

You looked back down at the bag. "It is?"

He frowned very slightly. "Yeah. you wear charcoal all the time."

"I do?"

"It makes your eyes stand out."

Your heart stumbled somewhere in your chest. He said it so matter of factly. No awkwardness. No attempt to flirt. Just an observation. Something he'd noticed.

You swallowed against the sudden warmth threatening to creep into your cheeks. "I didn't know that."

"I did."

Austin, who had been half-listening while scrolling through his phone, finally looked up. "Hold on." Neither of you answered. Austin looked between the shopping bag and Bron. "Dude."

Bron glanced over. "What?"

"You left, you went back, you bought her the hoodie." Austin pointed dramatically at you. "Because she looked at it."

Bron frowned slightly. "Yeah."

Austin blinked. "She didn't even touch it."

"I know."

"She literally looked at it for three seconds."

Bron took a sip of his coffee. "She liked it."

Austin looked as though he'd just been told the sky was green. "You bought an entire hoodie" He paused. "because she looked at it."

Bron nodded again. "That's usually how shopping works."

Maxxine covered her mouth, trying, and failing, to hide a smile.

Austin turned towards her. "Back me up."

She shook her head immediately. "Nope."

"This is weird."

"No." She looked fondly between you and Bron. "I actually think it's really sweet."

Bron looked genuinely confused. "Why?"

Maxxine smiled. "You noticed."

He shrugged. "So?"

Austin threw both hands into the air. "'So?'" He pointed accusingly at Bron. "You remembered the exact hoodie she looked at, you remembered the colour. You remembered she didn't own one like it."

Bron frowned. "She does."

Austin paused. "What?"

"She has one."

"Then why buy another one?"

"'Cause that one's getting worn out."

You slowly turned your head. "Excuse me?"

Bron looked back at you. "The sleeves."

"What about them?"

"They're fraying."

You hadn't even noticed. "I" You looked back up at him. "How did you know that?"

He shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. "You wear it all the time." Like it explained everything. Maybe to him it did.

Your chest tightened unexpectedly. Not because of the hoodie sitting in your hands. But because somewhere between flights, training sessions and television every week, Bron had noticed your favourite hoodie was wearing out. He hadn't mentioned it. Hadn't made a fuss. He'd simply replaced it before you needed to.

You looked down at the shopping bag again, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "Thank you."

Bron's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "No problem."

You pulled the hoodie from the bag. It was just as soft as you'd imagined. Without another word, you slipped it over your head, pulling it on over what you were already wearing. It hung comfortably from your shoulders, slightly oversized exactly the way you liked.

Bron gave one small nod. "Told you."

You looked at him. "What?"

"Your colour."

Austin watched the entire exchange in complete disbelief before leaning towards Maxxine. Quietly enough that he thought neither of you would hear, he muttered, "That man has absolutely no idea he's the most romantic idiot alive."

Maxxine smiled knowingly. "No." She watched Bron absent-mindedly straighten the hood where it had folded awkwardly against your shoulders before stepping back as though he'd done nothing unusual at all. "I don't think he does either."

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RAW days always followed the same rhythm. Hair, makeup, gear, production meetings, warm-ups, interviews. Then, somehow, before you had time to think about it, showtime.

The women's locker room buzzed with the familiar kind of organised chaos that came with television days. Hairdryers hummed. Music played from someone's speaker in the corner. Gear bags lay open across benches, every wrestler insisting they had a system despite appearances suggesting otherwise. You sat in front of your locker with one leg crossed over the other, carefully fastening the last buckle on your boots.

Your gear for the night hung neatly beside you. Black, silver, simple. Exactly how you liked it.

The only decision left was jewellery. You opened the small case you always travelled with. Inside sat rows of earrings organised far more neatly than the rest of your belongings ever were.

Maxxine wandered over, already dressed for the show. "You've got more earrings than I own shoes."

You didn't look up. "I doubt that."

"It's close." She leaned against the lockers, watching as you studied two pairs. One was matte black. The other, polished silver hoops.

"Hmm."

"What?"

"I can't decide."

"You?" She looked genuinely surprised. "I thought you always knew."

"I usually do."

You held both pairs up. "Black?" you lifted them closer to your face "Or silver?"

Maxxine tilted her head thoughtfully. "The silver makes your makeup pop."

You considered them. "Maybe." Then you frowned again. "I don't know."

"You could always ask Bron."

You laughed under your breath. "Ask Bron about earrings?"

"Yep."

"You'd trust his opinion?"

Maxxine gave you a look. "I absolutely would."

Before you could answer, the locker room door opened. Bron stepped inside, fresh from whatever meeting Adam Pearce had dragged The Vision into. He wasn't looking for anyone in particular, until he spotted you. His expression softened almost immediately. "There you are." He wandered over, hands tucked into the pockets of his joggers. "You ready?"

"Almost." You held up both pairs of earrings. "Help me settle something." He looked down. "Black or silver?"

He didn't even hesitate. "Silver."

You blinked. "That was quick."

"Mhm."

"Why?"

"They match."

You frowned slightly. "What do they match?"

"The stitching." Silence.

"The stitching?" you repeated.

Bron nodded towards your gear hanging beside your locker. "The silver around your knee pads." You slowly turned to look. Sure enough running around the edges of your knee pads was a strip of metallic silver stitching, tiny. Barely noticeable unless someone was really looking. You looked back at him. "You noticed that?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"When you changed it."

"I." You laughed quietly. "I changed it weeks ago."

"I know."

"How long ago?"

He thought for a second. "Three."

"Three what?"

"Weeks."

Your eyebrows lifted. "You know how many weeks ago I changed my gear?"

Maxxine stared openly now. "Bron."

"What?"

"You noticed the stitching."

He frowned. "Yeah."

"The tiny stitching."

"Mhm."

"The silver stitching."

He looked between the two of you, completely baffled. "It's different."

Maxxine laughed. "No, I know it's different. I'm just trying to understand how you know it's different."

Bron shrugged. "You wear the black earrings when there's no silver." He pointed towards the pair in your hand. "You wear those when there is."

The room fell quiet. Your mouth opened slightly before closing again. "You" You looked down at the earrings. "You've memorised that?"

He looked at you as though you were asking whether the sky was blue. "I guess."

"You guess?"

"I never thought about it."

Maxxine let out the tiniest squeal before immediately covering her mouth. "Oh my God."

Bron looked over. "What?"

She pointed between the two of you. "That."

"What?"

"You just said you've memorised her jewellery."

"I didn't."

"You literally did."

"I didn't memorise it."

"You knew exactly which earrings she'd wear with which gear!"

He frowned harder. "I just noticed."

You couldn't stop smiling. Not a huge grin. Just that small, involuntary smile that always seemed to appear whenever Bron said something completely ordinary that somehow managed to make your heart ache.

He caught it immediately. "You smiled."

"I always smile."

"No." He shook his head once. "That one."

"What one?"

"The little one."

You looked away instinctively, suddenly far more interested in clipping the silver hoops into your ears. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You smiled."

Maxxine watched the exchange with the kind of expression usually reserved for people witnessing puppies discovering snow for the first time. Neither of you seemed remotely aware of what you were doing. Bron wasn't flirting. You weren't blushing dramatically. It was just comfortable, natural. Like the two of you existed on the same wavelength.

The locker room door swung open again.

Austin wandered in carrying two bottles of water. "There you" He stopped mid-sentence. "Why is everyone looking emotional?"

Maxxine pointed at Bron. "He memorised her earrings."

Austin frowned. "Her what?"

"Her earrings."

He looked at Bron. "You serious?"

Bron accepted the bottle Austin handed him. "What?"

"You know which earrings she wears with which gear?"

Bron unscrewed the cap and nodded.

Austin blinked. "Why?"

Bron looked genuinely confused by the question. "They match."

Austin turned slowly towards you. "How long have you two been dating?"

"Just over a year."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Right." Then back to Bron. "And in that year” He gestured vaguely towards your ears. "you've apparently become a professional jewellery consultant?"

Bron took a sip of water. "I don't know anything about jewellery."

Austin laughed. "Clearly!"

"You just know hers," Maxxine added with a grin.

Bron looked at you for a second. Then shrugged. "I guess."

Austin rubbed both hands over his face. "This is getting ridiculous."

You laughed. "What?"

"Dude." He pointed at Bron. "You don't realise this isn't normal, do you?"

Bron frowned. "What isn't?"

"You."

"What'd I do?"

"You remember everything about her."

Bron looked over at you again. His gaze lingered for just a second. Not analysing. Not searching. Simply, familiar. Like he knew you as well as he knew himself. Then he looked back at Austin. "I mean" Another shrug. "I look at her."

Austin stared. "I'm surrounded by lunatics."

You felt warmth spread through your chest at those four simple words. I look at her.

He hadn't meant them to sound romantic. He'd said them with complete sincerity. As though paying attention to you was the easiest thing in the world. As though it had never occurred to him that there was any other way to love someone.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

House shows were, in your opinion, one of the better parts of touring. There were no television production meetings, no endless media obligations, no rushing from one interview to the next.

Just wrestling, travel and enough free time to actually explore whatever city you'd landed in.

The afternoon before the show found you, Bron, Austin and Maxxine wandering through a quiet street lined with independent cafés and little family-owned shops.

Austin had insisted he wanted coffee. Twenty minutes later, he'd somehow accumulated a pastry, an iced drink and a paper bag full of sweets.

"I don't appreciate the judgement," he said, catching you looking at the overflowing bag.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

"I absolutely was."

Maxxine laughed, slipping her arm through Austin's. "You've bought enough sugar to survive the apocalypse."

"You never know."

Bron walked beside you, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans, his sunglasses resting on top of his head despite the clouds beginning to roll in. He wasn't saying much. He rarely did. He seemed perfectly content simply walking next to you, close enough that your shoulders brushed every now and then as you moved down the pavement.

It was comfortable, easy, the kind of silence that never needed filling. Then your attention drifted to a shop window. A small independent record store sat nestled between a florist and an old bookshop. Vintage posters covered the glass, vinyl sleeves filled the display, a handwritten sign in the window simply read: COME HAVE A DIG.

You smiled. Bron noticed immediately. "You wanna go in?"

You looked at him. "Can we?"

He gave one small nod. Austin groaned dramatically.

"A record shop?"

"You don't have to come."

"I don't understand vinyl."

"You don't have to."

He sighed. "I'll suffer for friendship."

"You'll survive."

"You don't know that."

Maxxine rolled her eyes affectionately. "You'll live."

The little bell above the door chimed softly as all four of you stepped inside. The shop smelled faintly of old paper, polished wood and coffee from the café next door. Music played quietly through old speakers somewhere near the back. Rows upon rows of vinyl stretched across wooden shelves, organised alphabetically with handwritten dividers. You exhaled softly. "I love places like this."

Bron glanced over. "I know."

You wandered off almost immediately, fingertips brushing lightly over album covers as you moved through the rows. Some you recognised instantly, others you'd never seen before, there was something calming about it. No rushing, no agenda, just browsing. Bron followed a few steps behind. Not because he had any particular interest in records. Mostly because he liked watching you enjoy things.

Every so often you'd stop. Tilt an album towards the light. Read the back. Smile to yourself before sliding it carefully back into place.

Meanwhile Austin had already become bored. He leaned towards Maxxine. "How long do you think this takes?"

She smiled. "As long as she wants."

"I've never understood records."

"You don't have to."

"I just don't get why anyone would buy music that big."

Maxxine laughed. "They're collectors' items."

"They're giant circles."

She ignored him.

Across the shop, you stopped in front of another display. One album caught your eye immediately. Beautiful artwork. Deep forest greens and muted golds wrapped around an illustrated woodland scene. You gently lifted it from the shelf. "Hm."

Bron noticed. You turned it over, reading the track list.

The artwork alone almost convinced you to buy it, almost. "It is pretty," you murmured.

Bron looked at the cover. "Yeah."

"I've never listened to them."

"You could."

"I could."

You smiled to yourself before carefully sliding it back into its place.

"What?" Bron asked.

"It's probably not sensible."

"You want it."

You shrugged. "A little."

"So get it."

You smiled faintly. "I don't really need another record."

"You don't."

"I've already got loads."

"You do."

"And they're expensive." You gave the sleeve one last fond glance before stepping away. "It'll still be here for someone else."

Bron watched you walk towards the next aisle. His eyes lingered on the space you'd just left behind.

Then, quietly, he doubled back.

You'd completely forgotten about the record by the time the four of you reached the arena. The afternoon disappeared into training, hair and makeup, warm-ups. Before long, you were back in your hotel room after another successful show, having changed into an oversized band T-shirt and a pair of loose joggers.

A knock sounded at your door.

You didn't even have to ask who it was. "It's open."

Bron stepped inside carrying two takeaway teas. Standard. Almost every evening ended this way. He handed one to you before sitting beside you on the sofa. "You survived."

"So did you."

"Barely."

You smiled, taking a sip. The comfortable silence settled almost immediately.

Then Bron reached down beside his feet. "I got you something."

You looked over. "You what?"

He held out a brown paper bag. Your eyebrows lifted. "Bron."

"What?"

"You know you don't have to keep buying me things."

"I know."

You accepted the bag anyway. It felt flat. Square. Curiosity slowly replaced amusement as you folded back the top.

Then froze, the record, the exact one from the shop.

You stared at it. "Bron."

He looked up from his coffee. "What?"

"You went back."

"Mhm."

"When?"

"After you looked at candles."

"You disappeared I thought you went to the bathroom."

"I did."

"And then?"

"I bought it."

You looked back down at the album cover. "I told you I wasn't getting it."

"I know."

"So why”

He frowned slightly, as though it was obvious. "You kept picking it up."

"I picked it up once."

"Three times."

You blinked. "Three?"

"You looked at it, you put it back, you walked away, you came back, you looked again." He counted it off on his fingers like he was reciting something completely ordinary. "You smiled every time."

Your throat tightened. You hadn't even realised you'd gone back to it. "You remembered that?"

"You wanted it."

"I said I didn't need it."

"You didn't." Another shrug. "But you wanted it."

Silence filled the room. You carefully traced your thumb over the edge of the sleeve. "I don't even know if I'll like the music."

"You liked the artwork."

A quiet laugh escaped you. "I did."

"It'll look good with the others."

You looked up. "You've noticed my records?"

"They're colour organised."

"You've looked?"

"I live there half the week."

You couldn't help smiling. "You've memorised my shelves."

"I guess."

There it was again. That same answer. Not dramatic. Not intentional. Just honest.

You looked down at the record once more before shaking your head with a quiet laugh. "You know"

"What?"

"I think you pay more attention to my life than I do."

Bron looked genuinely puzzled. "I just look."

You laughed softly. "I know."

No. That wasn't quite right anymore. He didn't just look, he noticed. Every single time.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

The last box left your apartment just after four in the afternoon. The front door stood open, letting a warm breeze drift through rooms that sounded strangely unfamiliar without furniture softening the echoes. For the first time in nearly four years the apartment looked empty.

No records lined the shelves, no blankets were draped over the sofa, no candles flickered on the windowsill. Even the little glass whale Bron had bought you months earlier had disappeared into a carefully labelled box.

You stood in the middle of the living room, your hands tucked into the pockets of your black hoodie as you looked around one final time. It felt odd. Like someone had quietly erased all evidence that you'd ever lived there.

Behind you, Bron taped another box shut before glancing up. "You okay?"

You nodded automatically.

He watched you for another second. "You don't look okay."

A quiet laugh escaped you. "I am."

"You sure?"

You looked around the room again. "It's just weird."

He waited. You appreciated that about him. He never rushed you into filling silences. "I've lived here since I got signed. My first apartment. My first place that actually felt like mine." You smiled faintly. "I know it's only walls."

"They're your walls." You looked over at him. He was already watching you.

"They've seen a lot."

He nodded once. "They have."

You smiled to yourself. "You know” You looked towards the patch of wall where your record player had always lived. "I learnt how to cook in this kitchen."

"You burnt toast."

"I burnt everything."

"You nearly set the smoke alarm off."

"I definitely did."

"The neighbours hated you."

"They absolutely did."

A laugh escaped both of you. The heaviness eased, if only a little. You wandered slowly through the apartment one last time. Your fingers brushed lightly over the empty bookshelf, the windowsill. The doorway where you'd measured yourself against the frame after every new pair of wrestling boots, convinced they somehow made you taller.

Bron followed a few steps behind, quiet. Content to simply be there.

You stopped in front of the bare wall where your records had lived. "It doesn't even look like my apartment anymore."

"No." He stepped beside you. "It doesn't."

You glanced sideways. "You know what I'm going to miss most?"

"What?"

"The little routines, the coffee by that window, the record every Sunday morning, the candle I always lit when it rained."

Bron looked around the room like he was memorising it. Then he nodded once. "We'll have new ones."

Not you.

We.

The word settled warmly in your chest.

You smiled. "I'd like that."

The new apartment felt impossibly bright, boxes filled every room. Austin immediately dropped one beside the kitchen island before dramatically wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead. "I've earned pizza."

"You carried two boxes," Maxxine said.

"They were emotionally difficult boxes."

"They had towels in them."

"They were still heavy."

You laughed, shaking your head.

Bron disappeared into the bedroom with another armful of boxes. You assumed he was unpacking.

Instead a few minutes later he reappeared carrying a long, neatly wrapped package. He stopped in front of you. "This is yours."

You frowned. "Bron."

"What?"

"We're literally moving house."

"I know."

"So why have you bought me something?"

He shrugged. "'Cause we're moving house."

You laughed. "I don't think that's how this works."

"It is."

"It definitely isn't."

Austin looked up immediately. "Oh, he's bought another present."

Maxxine smiled knowingly. "I wondered how long it'd take."

You accepted the parcel with an amused shake of your head. "You really didn't have to."

"I know."

Carefully peeling back the paper, you revealed a beautifully crafted wooden record stand. Simple oak, clean lines, a small brass plaque fixed to the front.

NOW PLAYING

For a second you just stared. Your fingertips traced the smooth wood. "Bron."

He shifted slightly on his feet. "What?"

"This is” You swallowed. "This is beautiful."

He nodded towards it. "You never had anywhere for the one you were listening to."

Your eyes lifted. "What?"

"In your old apartment, you'd lean it against the speaker." He mimed the angle with one hand. "It kept falling over."

Your mind immediately replayed it. Every Sunday morning. Coffee. Music. The sleeve propped awkwardly against the record player because you always meant to buy a stand and never had.

"You remembered that?"

"You kept saying you'd get one."

You blinked. "I did?"

"You never did, so" Another one of those familiar little shrugs. "I did."

Silence settled over the room.

Austin looked between the two of you before quietly muttering, "That's ridiculous."

Maxxine smiled. "What?"

"He notices everything."

You looked back down at the stand in your hands. Not expensive. Not flashy. Just exactly right.

Bron scratched absent-mindedly at the back of his neck. "I thought" He glanced around the apartment. "first record in the new place should have somewhere to go."

Your throat tightened. It wasn't really about the record stand. It was the fact that he'd thought about your first morning here. He'd pictured you making coffee, choosing an album, starting a new routine.

He hadn't just bought you furniture. He'd imagined your life.

You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him before he had time to react. His hands settled naturally around your waist. "Thank you."

He rested his chin lightly against the top of your head. "You like it?"

You laughed quietly into his hoodie. "I think" You looked up at him. "you're making it very difficult for me to pretend you aren't romantic."

He frowned immediately. "I'm not."

Austin barked out a laugh from the kitchen. "Brother, you bought her a custom record stand because you noticed she leaned albums against the speaker."

Bron looked genuinely confused. "Yeah?"

Austin pointed dramatically. "That is the most romantic thing you've done all year."

Bron glanced down at you. Then back at Austin. "I just noticed."

You smiled to yourself. There it was again. Not poetry. Not speeches. Not grand declarations.

Just simple words that somehow meant everything.

I just noticed.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

A month later, the apartment finally felt lived in, the last moving boxes had disappeared. Your records filled the shelves again, plants had reclaimed every windowsill. The little oak record stand Bron had given you sat proudly beside the player, displaying whatever album happened to be spinning that evening. It had become part of your routine. Coffee, music, dinner, home.

You'd never realised how quickly somewhere unfamiliar could begin to feel like yours.

A quiet knock sounded against the open apartment door before Austin wandered in carrying a pizza box. "I'm here."

"We noticed," you called from the kitchen.

Maxxine followed behind him with a bottle of wine balanced carefully against her shoulder.  "You said casual dinner." Austin held up the pizza. "I understood the assignment."

"You understood takeaway."

"I also understood the assignment."

Bron appeared from the hallway carrying four glasses.

The evening settled into the kind of comfortable rhythm you'd all fallen into over the past few

months. Pizza disappeared, Austin lost spectacularly at cards, Maxxine laughed so hard she nearly spilled her drink twice, music played quietly in the background from your record player.

Eventually, Austin wandered into the living room, looking around as though seeing the apartment properly for the first time. "It already looks like you've lived here for years."

You smiled. "It feels like it."

He nodded towards the shelves. "Still alphabetised?"

"Colour coded."

"That's somehow worse."

"It's absolutely better."

"I'll never understand you."

Bron, who was clearing empty plates into the kitchen, looked over without missing a beat. "The jazz section's alphabetical."

Austin blinked. "What?"

"The rest is colour." Silence.

Maxxine slowly looked at Bron. "You know how her records are organised?"

He frowned. "Yeah."

Austin looked at you. "I'm not asking him questions anymore."

You laughed. "Wise choice."

Later that evening, after Austin and Maxxine had headed back to their hotel, the apartment settled into a comfortable silence. Rain tapped softly against the windows, the city outside blurred beneath streaks of water.

You wandered into the kitchen to make tea while Bron disappeared into the hallway. You assumed he was checking the lock. Instead he returned carrying a small paper bag.

You looked over your shoulder. "What's that?"

He held it out. "You forgot something."

"I did?" You frowned. "I don't remember buying anything."

"You didn't."

Another gift. You laughed quietly. "Bron"

"What?"

"You've got to stop doing this."

"I do?"

"You're making everyone think you're secretly romantic."

"I'm not."

"You keep saying that."

"'Cause I'm not."

Smiling to yourself, you accepted the bag, inside was a candle, simple, matte black glass, no ribbon, no dramatic wrapping.

You lifted the lid. The scent hit you almost instantly. Cedar, a little vanilla, rain, old books, something warm you couldn't quite place. You froze. Your smile faded into something quieter. "Bron."

He looked up from where he was putting mugs away. "What?"

You brought the candle a little closer. "This."

"What about it?"

Your chest tightened unexpectedly. "It smells" You stopped. Then looked at him. "Like my old apartment."

Bron nodded once. "Yeah."

Silence filled the kitchen. You stared at the candle. He hadn't bought something that smelled nice. He hadn't picked the most expensive one.

He'd found, this.

"You remembered?"

He looked confused by the question. "You always lit that cedar candle." You swallowed. "The one by the window, you'd make coffee, put music on, open the balcony door." He spoke so casually. As though he was simply describing the weather. "When it rained" He glanced towards the window where droplets still slid slowly down the glass. "the whole apartment smelled like that."

Your eyes stung. You hadn't even realised you'd stopped buying that candle after you moved. Somehow, without thinking, that smell had disappeared from your life.

Bron had noticed. Not because you'd mentioned it. Not because you'd complained.

Simply because it had changed.

"I..." You laughed softly, though it came out a little shaky.

"I didn't even realise I missed it."

"I know."

"You knew?"

"Mhm."

"How?"

"You haven't lit a candle since we moved."

You blinked. "Seriously?"

"You always used to." He shrugged. "I figured you forgot, so" He nodded towards the bag. "I got another one."

Your thumb brushed across the cool glass, this wasn't about a candle. It wasn't even about your old apartment. It was about the fact that Bron had quietly recognised that something which had once brought you comfort had vanished during all the chaos of moving.

And instead of pointing it out he'd simply brought it back.

You looked up at him. "Come here."

He crossed the kitchen without hesitation. The moment he was close enough, you reached for his hand. "I've got a question."

"Okay."

"When you buy me things" He nodded. "What goes through your head?"

He frowned thoughtfully. "I dunno."

"You must think something."

Another pause. Then, "You'll like it."

You smiled. "No, I mean before that."

He thought a little longer this time.

"When I see something" His thumb absent-mindedly brushed over your knuckles. "I picture where it'll go." You stayed quiet. "The record stand, next to your player. The hoodie, you'd wear it after shows." A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "The candle" He looked down at it. "I thought it'd make this place feel like home."

That was it. The tears came before you could stop them.

Bron's expression immediately shifted. "Hey."

"What?"

"What's wrong?"

You laughed through the tears, shaking your head. "Nothing."

"You sure?"

You nodded. "You're just" You looked around your apartment, st the records. The wooden stand. The framed print. The hoodie hanging over the chair. Now the candle. "You keep giving me little pieces of a life."

Bron looked around too, as though trying to see what you saw. "I just wanted it to feel like ours."

You reached up, cupping his face with both hands. "It does."

Outside, the rain continued to fall. Inside, you lit the candle. Within minutes, cedar and vanilla began drifting gently through the apartment. You closed your eyes for just a second. It smelled exactly like rainy Sundays in your old home.

Only now when you opened your eyes again Bron was standing in the kitchen. Waiting for the kettle to boil. Looking completely at home there.

The smell hadn't brought you backwards.

It had simply carried your favourite part of the past into a future the two of you were building together.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

A week later, RAW had rolled into Chicago. The arena was already alive when you arrived. Production crew hurried through the corridors balancing cameras on their shoulders. Music drifted from the ring where rehearsals were already underway. Someone somewhere was loudly arguing about catering, business as usual.

You'd just finished getting changed when Maxxine appeared in the doorway of your locker room. "You busy?"

You looked up from lacing your boots. "For you?"

She smiled. "I need coffee."

"I thought that's why catering existed."

"It does."

"I don't want catering coffee."

You laughed. "So I'm your excuse?"

"Exactly."

You stood, grabbing your hoodie from the back of the chair. "Come on then."

The café across the road from the arena had become something of a tradition whenever schedules allowed. It was quiet, smelled permanently of fresh coffee and cinnamon.

Most importantly it was just far enough away that fans rarely wandered inside. You and Maxxine settled into your usual corner with two coffees between you.

For a while, conversation stayed light, travel, gear, matches.

Austin accidentally shrinking one of Maxxine's jumpers in the hotel laundry. "He swore he followed the label."

"I don't think Austin's ever followed instructions in his life."

"He looked genuinely offended when I said that."

You laughed. "I would've paid to see his face."

Maxxine smiled into her coffee before tilting her head. "So"

You already recognised that tone. "What?"

"I've been thinking."

"That's dangerous."

"It is."

You took another sip. "What about?"

"You."

You groaned quietly. "Oh no."

"And Bron."

"There it is."

She laughed. "I've noticed something."

"You and everyone else."

"No" She leaned forward slightly. "I mean something different."

You rested your chin on your hand. "I'm listening."

She was quiet for a moment. "Has Bron ever bought you something he likes?"

You frowned. "What?"

"A gift." She shrugged. "Has he ever picked one because he thought it was cool?"

You blinked. "I" Your mind immediately started running through every present. The hoodie, the record stand, the vinyl, the candle, even the earrings he'd insisted matched your gear. "No."

Maxxine nodded once. "I didn't think so."

You looked down into your coffee. "I've never really thought about it."

"I have." She smiled. "Because Austin bought me a jumper last week."

You laughed. "What was wrong with it?"

"It was bright orange."

"That sounds like Austin."

"It absolutely sounded like Austin."

She grinned. "He bought it because he thought it was fun." You smiled. "And Bron, he never does that."

You looked at her. "What do you mean?"

She stirred her drink slowly. "The hoodie. You'd already wear something like it. The record stand, you already had the records. The candle. You'd had that scent for years." She paused. "He's never tried to change what you like."

The words settled over you. You'd never considered it before. Bron had never bought you something because he wanted you to become someone different. He'd never tried to influence your style or your hobbies or your home. Every gift had simply supported the person you already were.

"He pays attention," Maxxine continued quietly. "But not in a" She searched for the right word. "controlling way." You nodded slowly. "He just sees you."

There it was again. Those words. You remembered Austin joking that Bron had no idea how romantic he was.

You remembered Bron saying, I just notice.

You remembered him describing where your record player sat.

The mugs you reached for. The earrings that matched your gear. The candle you'd stopped lighting. Every single gift had started with the same question.

What would make her smile?

Not,  What do I want her to like?

You smiled to yourself. "I don't think he even realises he's doing it."

Maxxine laughed. "Oh, he definitely doesn't."

"He'd deny it."

"He absolutely would."

The two of you shared a knowing smile. After a moment, Maxxine spoke again. "You know my favourite one?"

"The record stand?"

She shook her head. "The candle."

You looked up. "Really?"

She nodded. "Because." Her smile softened. "that wasn't about an object."

"No."

"That was him noticing you'd lost a feeling." Your throat tightened. "He brought it back."

You looked out through the café window for a second. Rain clouds were gathering over the city. Typical.

You smiled. "He did."

Back at the arena, you wandered through the backstage corridors with Maxxine, still thinking about the conversation. You rounded a corner and nearly walked straight into Bron.

"There you are."

"There I am."

He looked between you and Maxxine. "You got coffee."

"Mhm."

He reached out without thinking, gently brushing a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. "You've got foam."

"What?"

"Here." His thumb caught the tiny drop of milk on the corner of your mouth before he stepped back as though he'd done nothing unusual.

"You missed a bit."

You stared at him for half a second. "Thanks."

He wandered off towards Gorilla Position before either of you could say anything else. Maxxine waited until he'd disappeared around the corner. Then she looked at you. "He didn't even think about that."

You smiled. "I know."

"He just saw it." You watched the empty corridor where Bron had vanished and suddenly you realised that was exactly how he'd loved you from the very beginning. Not through speeches, not through grand gestures. But through hundreds of tiny moments where he simply noticed something before anyone else did. A loose thread, an empty wall, a favourite scent, a worn-out hoodie, a smile in a record shop.

Things everyone else walked straight past. Things Bron never seemed capable of missing and somehow that made you feel more loved than any bouquet of flowers or expensive necklace ever could.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

The drive home after RAW was quieter than usual. Not awkward, just comfortable.

Chicago's skyline slowly disappeared in the rear-view mirror, replaced by long stretches of motorway illuminated by orange streetlights. The radio played softly in the background. Bron drove with one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel, the other occasionally tapping absent-mindedly against the centre console in time with whatever song was playing.

You watched the lights blur past outside your window. Your conversation with Maxxine had refused to leave your head all evening. She'd been right. Every single gift sitting in your apartment had started with the exact same thing. Bron had noticed something. Not something expensive, not something dramatic. Just, something.

You glanced across at him.

His attention never left the road. "What?"

You smiled. "You know me too well."

He looked over for half a second before returning his eyes to the motorway. "I do?"

"You knew I was looking."

"I could feel it."

A laugh escaped you. "That's terrifying."

"It's true."

"You are impossible."

He smiled to himself. "So I've been told."

By the time you got home, it was nearly midnight. The apartment greeted you with the familiar scent of cedar from the candle you'd lit before leaving for the arena that morning. The hallway lamp cast a warm glow across the living room, the record stand sat beside the player, your leather jacket hung from the hook by the door, the framed print rested above the records.

Little pieces of your life. Little pieces of him. Bron disappeared into the kitchen to put the kettle on, of course he did.

Tea before bed had become another one of your routines.

You wandered slowly around the living room while the kettle began to hum. Your fingertips brushed over the edge of the record stand. The charcoal hoodie folded over the arm of the sofa. The candle still flickering gently on the windowsill. Then... You opened the small cupboard beneath the record player. Inside sat a little collection of things Bron had given you over the past year. The record, the earrings, the tiny ceramic raven. The leather care kit he'd bought after noticing you spent ages cleaning your favourite jacket with an old T-shirt because you "never got around" to buying proper supplies.

Even that. He'd noticed. You laughed quietly to yourself.

"You laughing at me?" Bron called from the kitchen.

"Maybe."

"I haven't even said anything."

"You don't have to."

He walked back into the room carrying two mugs. He handed one to you before noticing what you'd been looking at. "Oh."

You glanced down at the cupboard. "I was just..,"

"You were organising."

"I wasn't."

"You were."

"I was thinking."

He nodded once. "Okay."

You closed the cupboard gently. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm."

"You have to answer honestly."

"I always do."

"I know."

You sat down on the sofa, tucking one leg beneath you. Bron sat beside you, turning slightly so he was facing you. For a moment you simply looked at him. Then you asked the question that had been sitting in the back of your mind all week. "Why do you always buy me things?"

He frowned. "'Cause I like buying you things."

"I know but" You searched for the words. "It's never random."

"No."

"You never buy something because it's expensive."

"No."

"You never buy something because it's trendy."

"No."

"You always" You looked around the apartment. "buy something that fixes something." You smiled softly. "They all solve a problem I didn't even realise you knew about."

Bron looked down into his mug for a second. "I guess."

"You guess?"

He shrugged. "I don't really think about it."

"Then what do you think about?"

Silence stretched between you. Not uncomfortable. Just thoughtful.

Finally, he spoke. "I see stuff." You waited. "You'll stop walking outside a shop."

"Mhm."

"You'll pick something up. You'll put it back. You'll look at it again." He looked at you. "I know you." Your chest tightened. "You sigh when your jacket zip sticks. You move records around when you can't decide what to play, you light candles when you've had a bad day, you wear silver when your gear's got silver on it, you always drink from the black mug if you're tired." He smiled just a little. "You don't notice you're doing any of it. So” Another shrug. "I do."

There it was again. So simple, so very Bron. You laughed softly, feeling tears prick unexpectedly behind your eyes. "You know"

"What?"

"I used to think gifts were about the thing."

He tilted his head slightly. "They're not."

"They're about being seen."

His brow furrowed, considering your words. "I suppose."

You shook your head. "No."

"You don't suppose."

"You've been showing me that for over a year." You reached for his hand. "Every present you've ever bought me" Your thumb traced slow circles over his knuckles. "has told me the exact same thing." He looked at you expectantly. "You pay attention."

He smiled. "I do."

"You make me feel like nothing about me is too small to matter." He stayed quiet. "The way I organise my records, my favourite hoodie, the candle I forgot to replace, the wall I kept saying I'd decorate, my coffee, my jewellery." You laughed through the tears now. "You remember all of it."

Bron squeezed your hand gently. "'Cause it's you."

The room fell silent. Not because there was nothing left to say. Because that was enough. As though that explained everything. As though loving you had made remembering effortless.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. "I don't think you realise how loved you make me feel."

"I try."

"I know."

"No." He shook his head gently. "I don't try."

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

His eyes met yours. "I don't have to remember." He smiled, that small, quiet smile that only ever seemed to belong to you. "I just do."

Your heart ached. Because you believed him. He wasn't making lists in his head. He wasn't buying gifts because he thought he should. He simply carried little pieces of you everywhere he went.

Without effort. Without expectation.

Because somewhere along the way the details of your life had become part of his.

You leaned in the rest of the way, kissing him softly. When you pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again.

"So..." He murmured. "You like the gifts?"

You laughed so hard you had to hide your face against his shoulder. "I love them."

He wrapped an arm around your waist. "Good."

A comfortable silence settled over the apartment once more. The candle flickered gently on the windowsill, the record player hummed quietly in the corner.

Outside, rain began to patter softly against the glass.

Inside, surrounded by every thoughtful little gift he'd ever given you, you realised something.

Bron had never really been giving you presents. He'd been leaving behind proof. Proof that, in a world where everyone was always rushing to the next town, the next show, the next airport, someone had always been paying attention.

"Who is fuckin' you?" I asked her, gripping her chin in my hand as I thrust up into her pussy.

Her beautiful tits were bouncing as I fucked up into her tired, and most likely sore body.

Just as she was about to say my name, one hard thrust had her gasping, as she dug her nails into my chest, making me let out a small hiss at the stinging pain.

But it seemed to make my cock harder, if that was even possible. Her leaving her mark on me, where every single person at tomorrow's wrestling event will see that she marked me as hers.

"That's it love. Mark me up. Show everyone I am yours." My pace picked up as I wrapped my arms around her waist and rolled us over.

My one hand quickly going to the back of her head, to grip her hair, to pull her head back for her look into my eyes as I pounded her into the mattress.

Her eyes were going a bit glossy as her pussy started to squeeze my cock even more.

"You gonna cum for me?"

"uh huh." Was her reply as her glossy eyes started to roll back into her head, but I didn't want her to finish, not yet.

I pulled back away from her, my cock leaving her beautiful pussy, and before she knew it, I had her legs thrown over my shoulders, and just as I was about to wrap my lips around her neglected clit, I could see her pussy clenching around nothing as she whined.

My own cock twitching, wanting to get back inside her body and to paint her walls with my cum, but I held myself back.

"Oh, will you look at that. Clenchin' around nothing. Tell me what you need." I told her as I wrapped my lips around her clit, and sucked hard on it.

"Need," Came her choked reply.

"Come on baby, use your words. Tell me what you need." I said, just before going back to sucking on her clit.

"Need your cock. Need you to fuck me. Please Dan, please, oh I need it." She started to beg me to fuck her.

"Shhh, no need to beg me. I got you." I assured her as I flipped her onto her stomach, gripping her waist hard as I pulled her ass up.

When she tried to get up on her arms, I pushed her back down and told her to stay, just as I thrust my cock back into her.

Her pussy clenched around my cock so tight, I swear my eyes crossed for a moment.

I didn't move, as I felt her body shaking below me. My cock twitching inside of her.

I pulled my hips back, leaving just the tip inside, waiting for that perfect moment to slam into her.

When her ass started to wiggle against me, I slammed back into her, listening her scream out my name in pleasure.

I collapsed against her back, putting my full body weight on her, as I slide my arm against her throat, gripping her chin as I practically jackhammer into her.

I nipped her ear as I fucked her, bouncing off her ass, whispering absolute filth in her ear.

"You won’t be able to walk tomorrow."

"You’re so fucking sexy."

"You little slut."

"You’re mine."

Her hands gripped my arm that was still against her throat, digging her nails into my skin, just as she let out a loud, moan, and then I felt her cum around my cock.

I lost it as I picked up my pace to fuck her throat her orgams.

"I love the way you moan my name." I groan as my thrusts started to become erratic.

I tried to hold off, but I couldn't.

I swear I roared as I came, stilling against her ass as my cum coated her insides, which triggered a small orgasm for her.

My cock was still inside of her, softening, when she clenched around me again.

"Didn't get enough huh?" I questioned as I pulled out of her, and flipped her onto her back.

I smiled as she shook her head no, my cock once again hardening.

"Filthy girl." I groaned just before I kissed her.

Smutmas Day 2

For 15 months, the night before his injury had replayed in your mind. It was the eve of that week's episode of Dynamite. You had left the arena with Jay, with your fingers laced with his. The bullet had been mutually bitten, and the aching tension between you would finally break. 

Jay was exactly how you imagined. He was loving, passionate and took his time with you. He made you melt underneath his touch. He was rough, yet you still felt safe; you always felt safe with him. With every rough bite, he left a loving kiss; every tear was wiped away with the pad of his thumb. He made you feel complete. He had filled the hole in your soul you had been aching to find. He left loving praises on your skin, worshiping your body like the temple it was. He reassured you that everything would be alright. That he was here now, and you could let go. He made you feel genuinely loved. That’s why you were so confused when he stopped talking to you. You tried to go to the hospital with him when he got hurt. You left him dozens of voicemails and texts. You and Jay were not strangers by any means. You had wrestled in Japan together. You shared the same mentor, Hiroshi Tanahashi, who had taught you both everything you knew. 

When Tanahashi announced his retirement match, you flew out to Japan without a second thought. What you didn’t take into consideration was Jay being there. It had been 10 months since that night, and you had given up on Jay. You didn’t even think about him anymore, that was unless you tried being intimate with someone. “I swear he has ruined every other man for me,” you told Thekla, one of your best friends in Stardom who had finally joined the AEW roster. “Why don’t you just get with Finlay, make him jealous. I can see the way he looks at you.” She must be out of her mind. If you started dating David Finlay, Jay White would literally explode. The history between the three of you was deep, let alone the one between Finlay and Jay. 

When you saw Jay in that crisp black suit, you wanted to throw yourself into his arms. You wore a long black knit dress that hugged your curves perfectly. The dress was long-sleeved and ended right above your ankle. You wore a black pair of Christian Louboutin heels with the dress. At the end of the match, Jay and you, along with Kenny Omega and a few other wrestlers, entered the ring to pay their respects. Jay had a guilty look on his face. Of course, the two of you would have to stand next to each other in the photo. 

Thekla was quick to point out that in the picture Jay had his hand on your ass. Your bodies were pressed together ever so slightly; he leaned into you and rested his calloused hand on the curve of your ass. Only your best friend would read into something like that. The two of you never spoke; that moment in the ring was all you ever saw of him during your two-week stay in Japan. 

Fast forward another 5 months to Forbidden Door. Your favourite PPV of the year. It was the PPV on which you and Jay made your AEW debut four years ago. Lying down on the small couch in your locker room, you felt someone place a kiss on the top of your forehead. Opening your eyes, you expected to see Thekla or another one of your friends. 

Jay White was the last person you expected to see. He held his head in his hands as he sat in a chair across the room from you. You knew Jay well enough to see the pain he was in. You decided to sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. Jay’s chest began to rise and fall more rapidly. “I’m so sorry,” he said in a shaky whisper. Jay lifted his head to meet your gaze; he had tears in his eyes that you were quick to wipe away with the pad of your thumb. “It’s been 15 months, Jay; why didn’t you call?” You had to ask; you needed to understand why he would promise you the world, then vanish the next day. “I’m an idiot; I was scared. So scared of everything. Scared of loving you, scared of my injury. I love you so much that I was scared I would hurt you. Instead, I hurt you way more this way.” You knew he was genuine. Him ghosting you was completely out of character. “How are you feeling?” You asked Jay, “My shoulder is feeling better, but my heart is breaking.” Jay was in a vulnerable state. You wanted to forgive him, but you couldn't. 15 months was a long time; your heart couldn't handle it. “Welcome home, I missed you” was all you could say to him before getting up and leaving the room. 

When Colten and his brother joined Bullet Club Gold it wasn't a surprise. They fit very well into it, especially with their tag team name. But it still caught you off guard since Jay seemed to be trying to get close to you before he recruited them.

He was slick. Always catching you alone and away from prying eyes. Colten had no idea you even talked to Jay before he joined his club. It was your little secret.

Every time he touched you, it felt like your skin burned. Sometimes it was a small caress over your bare abdomen as you passed next to each other. He didn't even look at you or say a word.

Then you began imagining him when you were mounted over Colten in bed. Your head thrown back in ecstasy as you moaned. Fingersnails digging into his chest while you bit your lip to not scream out the wrong name.

Jay knew what he was doing to you. He smirked as you watched on the sides while they filmed an interview backstage. After Colten came toward you, pecking your lips and giving you a hug. Behind him Jay walked closer giving you a wink as he left.

Austin wanted to go out and have some drinks with his brother. A thing they did every few weeks just the two of them. You said your goodbyes and went your separate ways. A traitorous thought in your mind made you go the same way Jay headed off to.

He had his own dressing room with his name in big bold letters on the door. It almost felt like a warning sign, not to go in there, but you knocked anyway. A second later, he opened the door as if expecting you and knowing Jay he probably did. He had the confidence of a man who looked like sex.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the open door.

"Can I come in?" You asked, confidence in your voice despite the nerves thrumming through your body.

He watched you for a long moment. You did your best not to shift under his unwavering stare as if he could read your every thought. Slowly, he moved aside to let you into his space and shut the door behind you.

"Do you want something to drink?" He offered you a selection of champagne and whiskey he had on a table. Probably the perks of being Jay White since the best The Gunns ever got was beer when they won the tag team championships.

"Whiskey," you replied, sitting down at the big leather couch next his leather jacket.

He had set it on the arm rest and wore his switchblade t-shirt, his hair dripping wet from showering after his match earlier. Jay walked back to you and passed you a drink. You took a long sip as he continued watching you quietly.

"Slow down, I might start to think you're nervous being around me," he had an amused smirk on his face and you wondered if it was a permanent feature.

"Why would I be nervous?"

He shrugged, "Maybe because Colten doesn't know you're here?"

"How do you know he doesn't know I'm here?"

"Because Austin just texted the group chat that they were having bros night and asked Juice and I to meet them at the strip club." He waited to see if he got a reaction out of you but it hardly bothered you.

Colten never told you about these outings but it wasn't hard to assume when he sometimes came smelling of perfume and glitter on his pants.

"Does that bother you? Colten being around other women when he could be with you right now?"

"Not at the moment."

"Why?"

"Because I'm with someone else too," you looked at him and took another sip of whiskey. This time you licked your lips after and kept your eyes on him as he watched you.

"You know if I were him," he stood in front of you crossing his arms, his muscles straining his shirt and distracting you. "I'd rather be here with you."

"Well, you are here with me," you uncrossed your legs and spread them apart slowly as you leaned forward showing a bit of your cleavage.

"And what do you want me to do?" He grinned, standing in front of you.

"I want you to show me," you spoke slowly as you reached your hands to the seam of his pants. "What the leader of the bang bang gang could do with a woman like me."

He cuffed your neck with his strong hand and made you look up at him. Your wide lustful eyes met his as your hands stayed at his waist. He lent forward to meet your lips in a seductive kiss that had you moan into his mouth. Jay had managed to steal whatever thought you still had about Colten away and replace it with him.

"Careful," he said lowly. "Colten might lose his girl and you won't ever be the same after me."

"I'm counting on it," you smirked as you slowly dropped down to your knees in front of him with his hand still around your neck, making it clear you belonged to him now.

"Don't you think you have had enough, captain?" The bartender asked roughly.

The pirate captain peered up at the man over the brim of his cup. The bar was dimly lit with candles all around to provide light. Several lanterns hung from the ceilings. The bartender gulped when he looked at Jay's face. A stern look that made any man's spine shiver.

"I have had enough when I say I have had enough," the captain told him. The angry and insulted man stood from his barstool. He grabbed his knife from his belt and stuck it into the wooden table between them. "Do you understand?"

The bartender looked between the knife and the irritated captain before him. A few nervous laughs slipped from his toothless mouth. "I am just looking out for my favorite captain. There is no need for such hostilities. How about another drink then for my friend Jay? On the house."

Jay placed his empty cup down on the table. He watched the bartender closely to ensure that he didn't tamper with the free drink that he so generously offered. The bartender was known to add water to a drink to save from the loss.

When he was given the drink, Jay nursed the cup in one of his hands. He peered around the bar. Several of his men were being rowdy over a game of dice. Others were passed out on the seats, tables, and floors. A couple were trying to get lucky with some ladies of the night. He paused when two of his first mates were in a heated discussion over a piece of paper.

"Probably trying to read it," he sighed to himself. The men were so enthralled in their own conversation that they didn't seem to notice Jay standing over them.

"We have to go back home, Colten," the younger of his first mates stressed.

"We can't just go home! How would we get back in time? If you know how to fly, then you might want to show your wings. Our dad and sister will be fine," Colten spoke.

"The town is accusing them of piracy," the first mate practically shouted. "If we don't save them, they are going to die, Colten."

Jay didn't hear the rest. His blood ran cold. The heart that still beat for her pounded in his chest. He swore he was going to break into a cold sweat. Without realizing it, he broke the cup in his hands. The liquid poured onto the floor.

"Captain?" His third first mate, Juice, asked. "Everything alright?"

"We are going home!" Jay announced. He slammed the broken cup to the ground. The men followed. They knew not to mess with Jay at this time. His mind was elsewhere at the moment. The memory of a promise he made plagued his thoughts.

🏴‍☠️

"Dad!" You cried out as you closed the curtains. An angry mob had formed outside of your home. Rocks and other objects were being thrown into your windows.

"Get away from the window, honey," your dad ordered.

You stepped away as he instructed. He held a musket in his hands. Your father was loading the gun to defend himself.

Fear filled your eyes. Your brothers, Austin and Colten, used to be dockhands. When Jay decided to be a pirate, they quickly followed along with him. Jay grew to be one of the most feared pirates in the Caribbean. The town started to whisper about you and your father. Now you both were seen as traitors to the crown.

"We said come out, Billy!" A man from the mob yelled. Suddenly, the curtains caught fire. You stepped back as the flames started to consume the curtains. Your dad grabbed your hand.

"Listen to me, alright?"

"Dad, what do we do?" You asked.

He held your cheeks in his hand. "You are going to take the tunnel down to the beach. Find a boat at the docks and get out of here. I will distract them."

"I can't leave you."

"Go!" He ordered.

You took off immediately towards the secret tunnel. This was the very one that you used to play hide and seek with your brothers in. You turned to look at your dad one last time. He aimed his gun towards the front door. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a cannon shot sounded off. Then another went off.

"Pirates!" The mob yelled.

More cannons started to fire. You grabbed your dad's arm and dragged him with you to the tunnel. Billy pushed the door at the end of the tunnel open. Your brothers stood a few feet away.

"Austin, Colten," you cried and ran to them. They wrapped their arms around you.

Billy sighed in relief. "Never thought I would be happy to see you two."

"What about the day we were born?"

"Hey, yeah!"

"Not even close." Your dad quipped.

You smiled at the family reunion. Many moons had passed since you last saw them.

"A charming family moment, but we must get going. I don't have unlimited cannons," Jay spoke. His arms crossed over his chest.

Austin and Colten led you to a small boat that was waiting to go to the ship. They rowed together while fighting in the process. Your father looked irritated, but he was happy to have his kids together again. Jay didn't take his eyes off you.

As the ship sailed away, you watched your home burn to the ground.

Billy thanked Jay for saving them. "I have friends in the Tortugas. Just take us there, and we won't be anymore of a burden."

The winds cut the trip to the Tortugas shorter than you remembered as a child. Your dad was the first to get off the jolly boat. He waited for you to get on the dock with him. Before you could reach for him, Jay pressed you into him.

"Sorry, love," he whispered against your ear. "But you aren't going anywhere."

Jay ushered for two of his men to start rowing back to the ship. Your dad started to yell. "You took my two boys and made them pirates. You aren't taking my only girl. You promised!"

part one: catering

When another body moved into the otherwise empty catering hall, you glanced up from your phone and immediately found your interest piqued. The new signee, the new elite – Austin. You had heard his name a few times in the indies, Kris had brought him up in passing, but you had never been too curious. But you’re realizing, now, that you should have been. 

He walked into catering in a white t-shirt, black running shorts, and a mop of purple and brown hair. Your eyes darted over him – the way his shirt sleeves hugged his arms, and oh fucking christ, his thighs. 

You took a drink of water and with a racing heart, called out indirectly; “Hey,” and he turned around at the sound of your voice – oh fuck, he’s cute. You motioned to the catering table. “This is weird, but can you grab me a napkin? I forgot mine.” 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he quickly replied. He stepped over to the stack of napkins and turned, walking towards the table where you sat. Your heartbeat picked up. He balanced his food plate with one hand, and then handed you the napkin with the other.

“Thank you,” you cooed, taking it from him. “Austin, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded with a chuckle, sitting his plate down on the table, reaching for a chair. 

Your eyes widened for a second. He invited himself to the table. Initiative, just like yourself. He settled in a chair across from you and you were suddenly more aware of how you looked. You straightened your back and licked your lips. There was little you could do about the sweaty workout gear you were wearing though. You just had to hope he didn’t notice. 

You introduced yourself and he raised his eyes to look at you, and there was a smirk forming on his face. You caught a glimpse of his gauges under his hair. 

“Do you… do you not remember meeting me?” He asked playfully. 

Panic. You cleared your throat as you tried to flash through a library of faces in your mind, but you couldn’t place him anywhere else. You had been in the industry for years, but somehow, you lost him, and you couldn’t imagine doing that again. 

“We met at, uh,” he snapped his fingers, “Beyond, in The Palladium.” 

And suddenly it made more sense. “I don’t remember because I got a fuckin’ concussion that night,” you admitted through a laugh, one that he shared. “But uh, still nice to meet you, just gotta make sure I don’t forget this one.” 

“That’s a lot of pressure,” he joked. You noted the gap between his front teeth as he grinned. 

Oh, cute. “I think you can handle it.” 

“There’s not a lot that I can’t,” 

part two: photo dump

You liked that. He seemed sweet, but he had a face and a body like a god, and acted like he knew it. You wanted to sink your teeth into him. 

A Batman figure sat on a cabinet behind him. Your hand smacked the pause button on your laptop and grabbed your phone in one swift movement. In a few quick swipes, you pulled up your photos and scrolled to a particular day just a few weeks ago – a photo from Full Gear of yourself dressed in Batman-inspired gear. 

Eyes darting back to the video, you felt so foolish. You were a professional in your mid twenties, yet you were on your bed, stalking the internet for someone (that you knew) in particular, kicking your feet like a teenage girl. 

It had been a few days since the moment shared in catering – conversation ending with a gentle laugh, and then later that night, a follow from him on your socials. You were in a bar, having to play it cool while a giddy feeling spread across your chest at the notification. And you imagined it – him thinking about you hours after the conversation and going out of his way to look you up online. 

This wasn’t much that weirder, you thought. You hoped. 

So you purposefully crafted a perfect Instagram post. 

A photo dump of the past month – a little rewind, as you put in the caption. The first photo was of you backstage before a match, the next a photo of you and Kris in a grocery store surveillance cam, the third a photo of you cradling the TBS Championship in your bloody hands after Blood & Guts, a fourth of you in a bar mirror, and the fifth was from Full Gear in your Batman inspired gear. 

part three: acquaintances

And an hour later, after dinner and a shower, you checked your phone. danni_ellexo and the_ace_austin liked your post. You crawled into bed with a grin. 

In the garage btw, you re-read Kris’ text as you walk up the driveway and to the open garage, Kris inside, lifting dumbbells in perfect sync with a song blaring from her dock. She spotted you walk in through the mirror and released a deep breath, placing the bells back on the floor. 

“Look at you, rolling in…” she glanced at the watch on her wrist, “just half an hour late.” 

“Sorry, forgot to set an alarm.” You grumbled, dropping your bag on the floor and pulling the sweatshirt from over your head, revealing the tanktop underneath. 

You joined into the usual routine – the “Thursday work out” before going back on the road Friday. Kris went to the bench for a press and you crossed the space to spot her.

“Your flight at two tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” Kris nodded before laying back on the bench and bracing her hands on the bar. “You too, you know, if you make it on time.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes as she began to bench her set weight. Nothing else was said, you watched her carefully and counted her through them, praising her as she hit her goal without any struggle. She rolled off the bench and grabbed her bottle. 

“Oh, do you know why Austin is asking for your number?” 

And your heart swelled. “What? Highley?” You choked out in disbelief, but with the widest smile. 

“He texted me this morning, asking for your number, but I wanted to know the deets before I give it to him,” she said with a wiggle of her brows and you laughed. 

“Nothing juicy, I swear,” 

“Okay, but that doesn’t make sense…” 

You shrugged. “We just talked at catering, and I may have become obsessed with him and planted a perfect Instagram post for him to see.” 

“I knew that bar picture was scandalous,” 

“Perfect, huh?” 

“Boobs were too,” she quipped before the both of you laughed. 

You grabbed your own water bottle and sat down on the mat in front of her, falling into a stretch. “I just think he’s hot, and I liked talking to him, so…” 

“So are we talking a hook-up, relationship, what’s the play?” 

“Just tryna have some fun, Stat,” you said and she grinned, standing from the bench and walking over to the dumbbells again. You switched legs, stretching the back of your thighs. “What’s wrong with that?” 

“Because you really need to stop sleeping with our co-workers,” she laughed through the dig, but you didn’t take it to heart. “Two! That’s two different people!” 

“That’s a good percentage considering I’ve been here for two years, you think? Or is that low, and I need to step up my game? Breach outside the comfort zone of single male wrestlers?” 

Kris just shook her head in amusement, “let’s not try to ruin any marriages.” 

“That’ll be my New Year's Resolution for 2026,” you crossed your legs, stretching your arms above your head. 

There was a beat as you thought about what Kris said. You had two different, what you would consider, situationships. They had been brief and only months apart. For the most part, you tried to keep yourself clean, but the statistics weren’t on your side. You had a tendency to find a new boy-toy when you were bored of the others, and this time, Austin had arrived at the perfect moment. 

“So,” you cleared your throat and pushed yourself to your feet. “Are you gonna give him my number? Because ultimately, it’s up to you unless he asks me.” You asked as you walked to the rack of dumbbells and grabbed two for yourself. 

“Well, I’m not gonna cock-block you, or him, I guess.” 

You laughed. “Appreciate it Stat,” 

“Just spare me some details,” 

“Never,” 

And you waited for the text, staring at your phone and hearing the phantom notification ping from the other room, but it didn’t come for three days. On Sunday night, while lugging suitcases through your front door, your phone vibrated in your hand. 

Your heart skipped a beat and you immediately looked at the screen – an unknown number, unread texts. 

The first thing sent was the Ring of Honor Final Battle poster and the matchcard – your face, your name, just a few rows above Austin's. Below, his text read; See you in Columbus? and Austin btw 

part four: backstage 

Cheeky. You giggled as you quickly texted him back; See you then Ace. 

The stand-by space was packed before the main event. You sat in a fold-out chair, knees tucked under you, watching the camera feed from the arena. All of the seats were taken, a few stragglers in the back, and who wasn’t there, was watching it somewhere else in the arena. 

You checked your phone when the cameras cut and as you aimlessly scrolled through your recent texts, you heard Speedball talking to Austin a few rows back. You zeroed in your ears and listened to them – their schedules, Austin talking about working the next two weeks and then Final Battle in Columbus. 

You would be around him for two weeks, give and take a few days for traveling. So far the appearances had been sporadic as he has been back at indie route, which you only learned via stalking his Instagram stories. 

You didn’t know what you wanted from him, all you knew was that you wanted him, so you were going to get yourself in his sights. 

The next two weeks, you planned out a suitcase of outfits, all tailored for his attention. Tops you found in the back of your closet because they were a little too revealing, jeans that hugged your hips just right, and more specifically, some t-shirts you had ordered online that same night in the stand-by room. 

That next Wednesday, you saw Austin in the parking lot of the arena after you arrived. You were quick to grab your bag from the backseat and get out of the car. A few sneak glances, you timed your brisk pace to arrive just a few steps behind him. When he caught a glimpse of you, he pulled the door open and stepped back, allowing you in first. 

“Thank you,” you smiled, looking at him as you passed, through the side doors and into the back hallways of the arena. 

As you glanced over your shoulder to him, you weren't sure if you had caught him red-handed or if he was just confident enough to stare at you while you were aware. Either way, you had caught him – his eyes gazing at your ass in the jeans you chose, and you smirked. 

He corrected himself a second later, looking down at the suitcase he rolled beside him. “Good luck tonight,” he smacked his gum. 

Bold. You nodded, still with a grin, “likewise Ace,” 

And the last time, the day of Final Battle, he saw you in a vintage Marvel tee. 

After a scope of the convention hall with Billie, you walked backstage, checking your phone, waiting for a locker room lunch text. You turned a corner for the stairwell door, but down the hall, Austin was sitting on an equipment box, talking to Christopher Daniels. 

He glanced at you at the sound of your footsteps on the concrete floor, and there was a growing smile on his face. Chris looked over and sent you a wave that you returned, but a second later Chris said his goodbyes and left the two of you in the otherwise empty hallway. 

Heat flashed through your body as you walked slowly towards him. “Hey,” you greeted softly. 

“Hey,” he nodded and then motioned to your shirt where his eyes fell, “I like the shirt, and I was gonna tell you when you wore the Guns N’ Roses shirt, just didn’t see you again.” 

And you were sure your cheeks were a dead give away to your giggle. The blush. It was everything you wanted, but it still managed to fluster you. The mastermind plan of attention was successful. 

“Thanks, I, uh, I got them at a sick thrift store in Cincy,” 

He blinked, taking a second to register, and then nodded. A strategic decision to insert in this very conversation, one that you were only hoping you would actually have a few weeks ago. 

“Oh sick, I’ll have to check it out.” You turned to your phone and said something about sending him a link to the store’s website, but when he continued, you raised your head to look at him again. “You go to Cincy often?” 

“Every now and then, one of my friends teaches there.” 

“I uh,” he chuckled, “weird that you mentioned it, live about an hour from there.” 

“Oh I didn’t know, that’s sick,” you responded in genuine surprise. You watched his eyes light up and you both laughed. 

But of course you knew. You watched every YouTube interview with his name in the title or description. It came up a few times. 

“But you know, if you’re ever around, just hit me up. I know a few good spots, sometimes have a board game night or some shit and uh,” he trailed off before snapping his fingers, “movie nights.” 

Board game nights, movie nights. What a fucking nerd. You loved it. 

You grinned, nodding, “yeah, I’ll definitely let you know when I’m there.” 

“Bet, bet,” he chuckled. Your eyes fell to the chain around his neck, how heavy it sat against his broad chest. “But for now… you hungry?” 

And suddenly you were no longer waiting for the text from the locker room. 

“Yeah, you want to go?” 

part five: socials

“Let’s go,” he hopped off the equipment box. 

“Wait, get a picture of me,” you told Kris, grabbing her arm and sliding your phone into her hand. “I want to post one.” 

“Oh, another risque photo?” She teased, eyebrows raised as you stepped around her to be in front of the camera. 

“A little taste, you know,” you waved her off. 

You positioned yourself against the glass balcony of the Chicago rooftop bar. It was cold, just days after Christmas, but you shed your leather jacket for the photo – revealing the strapless white top and the black mini skirt underneath. 

Across the balcony Willow whistled and you laughed, Kris taking numerous photos as you positioned yourself in different poses. Ankles crossed, you leaned back, elbows to the balcony railing, and smiled at the camera. Another with a beer bottle in your hand, looking off in the distance, winking at the camera, tousling your hair, everything in between. 

It was later that night, when you were in bed, that you posted it. You waited with every breath until the clock struck the perfect time – when you know he is about to go to sleep and doing his last minute social rounds. 

After hours of analyzing each photo, you picked the best one – a hand on the railing, thumb hooked in the band of your skirt, staring at the camera in a sultry gaze. You scrolled through songs before picking the perfect audio; I’ve got this obsession / That I haven’t seen since yesterday / But now my vision’s clear / Sorry for the delay. 

And your calculations were once again correct. You posted the story, left your phone to get ready for bed, and when you returned, the Instagram notification made your heart jump. the_ace_austin liked your story. 

The next morning, you woke up to a text; you gonna be in town this week? 

part six: movie night

Hook, line, sinker. 

And two days later, with the adjustment of some plans after Worlds End, you flew to Cincinnati. 

Movie night, gonna send u the deets you re-read Austin’s text as you climbed into the back of an Uber outside of the airport. You texted him back; landed, heading 2 you, as the car whipped through the metro. 

As you watched the car neared the destination on the driver’s phone, your heart began to pound against your chest. You were going to his house, to sit on his sofa with him, and what you assumed was a few other friends, but you couldn’t focus on them. All you could think about was him – becoming all consumed by the masterplan you put into play. 

But to be honest, you didn’t think it would be like this. Three months since you first talked to him in catering, and now you were just excited to sit on his sofa with him. Typically you couldn’t wait to get your claws in someone, you weren’t keen on playing the long-game, but this was different. This was late-night texts of random TikToks, a playful conversation here and there at shows, shy glances in the hallways, flirty comments and posts on socials. It was a crush, a genuine crush. And it drove you crazy with need. 

You shook your head, as if to shake away the nerves, and turned your attention to your bag. You fished out a compact mirror and checked your makeup, took a couple ibuprofen, and ran through the outfits in your duffle in your head – your favorite sleep-set, a change of clothes, shoes, and your best underwear. There was no guarantee of what would happen but you just thought of yourself as prepared. 

The Uber pulled up Austin’s driveway and the first thing you took note of was the lack of cars. Either you were really fucking early, or you were the only invite. Either way, for a moment or the whole night, it was just you and him. 

You thanked the driver and shut the car door, lugging your duffel on your hip up the driveway. Near the front door, anticipating to knock and wait for an answer, you found him waiting for you, down right to the second. The door opened as you stepped up on the porch, and one glance inside, your heart dropped into your stomach. 

He’s so fucking cute. Austin opened the door – purple ECW sweatpants, a sweatshirt that draped just off his collarbones, and you suddenly felt so overdressed. 

“Hey,” you said softly and he grinned. 

“Hey,” his eyes dropped down to your bags, “oh shit, here, let me take it,” 

Austin reached out and you instinctively held the strap of your duffel out to him, letting him take it before he pulled the door open wider. 

“Come in, just gonna drop off your bag in the other room.” 

Through the foyer, he turned a corner and into a hallway, and then re-appeared without your bag. You stepped into the house, grabbing the cold door handle and pushing it shut behind you. The cold metal sent a shock through your core that was otherwise on fire. 

“Am I just super fuckin’ early or did you just want me for yourself tonight?” You quipped, jabbing a thumb in the direction of his drive-way. 

Austin chuckled, running a hand through his hair. Fuck. He pushed the tufts back – the sharp angle of his jaw, the gauges. Your fingers tightened into a fist. 

“Well, it was a short notice so I didn’t think about inviting anyone else. Mostly everyone’s out of town.” 

It was short notice but you caught the first flight out to be here. It was short notice but he didn’t sound completely disappointed about it being only you and him for the entire night. You were starting to feel glad that you packed your best sleep set. An empty house, a few hours, and endless possibilities. 

Austin’s cheeks shaded pink and he turned around, walking in front of you down the foyer. You smirked, toeing off your boots, and followed along. 

“I already got the movies lined up,” he broke the short silence, tucking his hands into his pockets as he came into the kitchen, showcasing a feast for the movie night, but in the healthiest way possible. 

Your eyes scanned over the kitchen – tall ceilings and dark marble countertops covered in snack trays. A Keurig, empty lunch box, protein powder jug, a couple of candles, and lamps in the corners. It felt put together and warm, considering it was technically a bachelor pad. And then you spotted the cabinet in the corner of the room, the same one you knew from his interviews. It felt so private. 

“But uh, yeah, just make yourself comfortable. You cool with the new Batman?” 

That was a weak spot. He remembered. You couldn’t make fun of him for being a nerd considering how much it meant to you for him to remember your favorite superhero. 

You smirked, “yeah, that sounds good, but, you’re going to make me snack on carrots? On my actual cheat day?” 

“Pizza on the way, I’m not an asshole,” he shrugged playfully and you laughed. You watched him, how he didn’t want to meet your eyes, almost as if he was bashful. You tried to break the ice, grabbing one of the carrots in the snack tray. 

“I, uh, I do appreciate this though. I love movies, and pizza, and your place,” your gaze flickered around the kitchen and he chuckled, “so thanks for having me over.” 

“You got here about three minutes ago,” 

That earned a dramatic eye roll from you. “Can’t a girl be thankful to even be considered?” 

“Of course she can,” he said, popping a carrot into his mouth. “And she can also be comfortable,” his eyes darted to your jeans, t-shirt, and jacket. There was a moment you hoped he appreciated the outfit, but once you gave it some thought, it made sense to be comfortable for a night of watching movies. 

“You want me to take my clothes off? The pizza isn’t even here yet.” You joked, quickly realizing it may have been too much, but then his chuckle eased your panic. “I’ll go change,” 

Down the hallway, you glanced into the first guest bedroom where your bag sat on the bed. You pushed the door to and changed from your flight clothes into your pajama shorts, a comfortable hoodie over your head, but underneath, you kept the matching red set you picked out with high hopes. 

In the guest bathroom, double checking your makeup, you heard the doorbell ring and then the voice of the pizza delivery driver mingled with Austin’s. The front door clicked shut and you emerged from the guest bedroom, meeting him in the kitchen where he sat two pizzas by the snack trays. 

“One is cheese, other is pepperoni, you never told me your pizza order so I did the most basic bitch toppings imaginable.” 

You giggled as he handed you a paper plate. “Cheese is my go-to,” 

“Sheer luck,” he met your eyes and grinned. 

Pizza boxes popped open and slices taken, two beers, you and Austin lowered down onto his sofa. You sank into the cushions, crossing your legs and he sat next to you, inches apart, but still close. He kicked his feet on the coffee table and you looked at the television to see the movie ready to be played. 

“Just a warning, I have watched this movie a dozen times, so I’m sorry if I’m obnoxious.” 

“Never,” he chuckled, grabbing the remote and hitting play, letting the movie start. 

In twenty minutes, the plates were empty, the first beers were downed. Austin grabbed two more from the fridge and handed you one as he settled back on the couch. You said a quiet thank you, and then he spread his knees, knocking his with yours. 

Your eyes darted from the screen to where his knee rested against yours through the material of his sweatpants. Fingers wrapped tightly around the beer bottle, you swallowed hard and looked back to the screen as you fought off the urge to press a little closer against him. 

An hour into the movie, you shifted to the side, tucking your legs under you. You propped your elbow on the back of the sofa and Austin glanced to you, eyebrow raised, 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, legs just falling asleep,” you said with a slight laugh. 

“You want to stretch out?” He asked suddenly and you thought about the logistics in your head – your legs draped over his lap, his hands on your thighs. But the nerves found their way through. 

“No, I’m okay,” you shook your head and he nodded, a hand coming out to tap at your leg, just above your knee. His hands were rough against your skin and it made it hard to breathe. “Might take you up on the offer later though,” 

Austin nodded and silently stretched his arm across the back of the sofa, right behind you. You tried to focus your attention on the movie – it hadn’t even reached the climax – but your mind was preoccupied with the placement of his hand, splayed just inches from your shoulder. 

Multiple scenarios played out in your head. You could lean over against him, let him take the hint and put his arm around you. You could just turn to him and kiss him to end the cat-and-mouse game. You could throw yourself on him. That’s what you wanted to do, but ultimately you played it safe. 

Shifting your hips, you scooted closer to his side, bringing your legs to tuck beside you. Shoulder to his, you kept your eyes on the movie but through your peripherals, he glanced at you with a smirk. And then he played along, just like it had in your mind, with his arm dropping to drape over your shoulders. 

He was so warm and smelled faintly like cologne and laundry detergent. You fought back a smirk as you sank into him, shoulder against his chest, heads closer. And then you glanced at him with a raised brow, and a puzzling expression spread across his face. 

“What?” He said through a faint chuckle. 

“Did you ever plan on inviting anyone else over? Or was it always me?” 

The game was over. 

And then he grinned, tongue running across his canines. God, he was so fucking hot. His hand was still on your shoulder, still a lingering warmth that you leaned into. 

“Uh, no, it was only you.” 

“If you wanted to hang out, you could’ve just asked, you know,” you said as that familiar giddy feeling spread in your chest. “Been trying to find a way to hang out with you.” 

He chuckled. “Yeah, I know,” 

You leaned forward, shifting to look at him directly. “What? You know that I wanted to hang out with you?” 

“That you were into me, yeah,” 

And it felt like the rug got pulled out from under you. Played at your own game. 

He let you go crazy trying to get his attention for three months, all while you had his attention since the first time you met. You had been so obsessed with trying to make him obsessed with you, you didn’t think to put yourself in his shoes, to see from his perspective. 

He had seeked you out on socials and liked all of your posts and stories, he complimented you constantly, he went out of his way to ask for your number, and technically, he made the first move. 

Then you grinned, a little bashful. “Was it obvious?” 

“A little, but it was cute, you know.” 

“You can’t call me cute and not expect me to kiss you.” 

He tilted his chin towards yours and the smirk was still on your mouth. “I’ll beat you there,” 

And there was no hesitation. His left hand left the armrest of the sofa, reaching over to cup your jaw, and he pulled your chin to his. The kiss landed like a blackout – your eyes fluttering shut, the attraction surging forward. You let him take control, to kiss you first, to let his lips drag across yours. 

When he slowly pulled back, you reached out and pressed your fingers to his face, pulling him back to kiss him again. Less controlled, messy, all teeth and tongue and want. His fingers climbed, curling around the back of your neck, holding you still, and you broke the kiss to catch a breath. 

Three months was a long time. 

“Were you ever going to tell me? Or just let me chase you forever?” 

“Forever?” He teased. 

You grazed his nose with yours, breathing into his mouth. It felt addicting, knowing that it all led to this – you on his sofa with his fingers in your hair, your lips brushing his. 

“I tend to be a bit obsessive if I want something…” 

Austin smirked, eyes heavy, “you got me.” 

Another kiss meets in the middle, softer before another follows – heat bloomed and breaths changed. His hand dragged from your neck, down your back, across your spine. Shivers ran through you, arms sliding up around his shoulders, your fingers winding in his hair. Oh, those fucking curls. This moment had crossed your mind more than you cared to admit. 

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip and you tug on the purple locks in your hand, a sharp gasp falling from his mouth before a low groan. His wide hands guided to your waist, circling at your hips. Your pajama shorts creeped up your legs with each movement and you felt a buzz of electricity surge in your veins, muting all your thoughts. All you could do was feel. 

Austin’s calloused hands grabbed your legs, one behind your knee and the other under your thigh, and lifted you onto his lap. The kiss broke apart as you gasped at his swiftness, thinking about how strong he was, but he pulled the air from your lungs when he caught you in another kiss. You shifted forward, chest to his, knees caging his hips. Even closer than before. 

He altered his hips under you and you felt his bulge pressing against the material of his sweatpant. Your mouth watered.  

Every nerve turned on its edge. Fuck. You moaned into his mouth and the day’s insecurities floated away. He could have turned you down, he could tell you to grab your bag and go home, but instead, he beckoned you closer and closer. 

He kissed the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck. His warm tongue swirled over the skin before sucking carefully, you whimpered. Desperate, needy, anything and everything. You pressed your weight onto his lap and his hands squeezed at your hips, then rounded to your ass. His touch was hot, like blazing suns biting into your skin, and you curved into him. 

“How long have you waited for this?” You asked breathily, tilting your head to bring his mouth back to yours. 

He groaned, hands kneading through your pajama shorts as he felt the pressure you placed around his lap. “So fuckin’ long,” he admitted through slurred words, kissing you again. He wanted you, and your ego grew, busting out the windows. 

You pulled your arms back from around his shoulders and dropped your hands, reaching down to grab the hem of your sweatshirt. Austin paused, playing catch up until you brought the sweatshirt up and over your head, revealing a red bra underneath, a fucking perfect contrast to your skin. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, hands sliding up your waist to your chest, thumbs rubbing over the soft material. 

You tossed the sweatshirt to the floor and pressed your mouth back to his in a rush, like you didn’t have the whole night ahead. Every kiss tastes like hoppy beer and need. It’s a need that you shared. 

You slid your hands to his shoulders, lips going for his neck, teeth tugging at the collar of his own sweatshirt, and he made haste to pull it over his head. All muscles, tanned skin, his tattoo. Your head spun, unable to catch up as your hands gravitated to him, touching every visible inch of skin. 

“Fuck,” you cursed, hot to the touch. Your fingers glide across his wide shoulders, nails biting into the skin of his biceps. There was a burn in your belly, a heat between your thighs. 

Austin grabbed you with both hands – one behind your knee, the other on your back – and flipped you over onto the sofa, landing against the soft cushions with a bounce, but you jolted right back onto him. He slotted himself between your legs and dropped his head, mouth trailing open-mouthed kisses across your chest. The gasp that left your mouth resonated into a low hum, hand diving back into his hair. 

His kisses trailed lower and lower, nose dragging along your ribcage, tongue swiping at your hip. You sucked in a breath through your teeth and your hips twitched when his fingers toyed with the end of your shorts before sliding under, grabbing at your ass. 

Another kiss to your stomach and he hooked his fingers in the shorts and tugged them down your legs in one motion, revealing the red thong. A matching set. 

Austin chuckled as his thumbs pressed into the apex of your thighs, grounding you to the sofa. The chuckle was deep, cocky, and your thighs twitched as heat climbed higher and higher through your belly. Your eyes took him in one more time, it was hard not to ogle when he looked like that… every indention of his muscles, the vein running along his bicep that you wanted to sink your teeth into. And the fucking smirk. 

“Inkling or hoping that you would get fucked tonight?” He toyed with the flimsy elastic sitting high on your waist. It was like he got off on teasing you – seeing you flushed and breathlessly reacting to just his touch. 

You smirked, hand reaching out to cross the distance between your bodies, and hooked a finger into the band of his sweatpants. 

“Both,” 

You pulled him back between your legs, ankles resting against the back of his thighs as he pressed flush against you, his hard cock in his sweatpants pressed firmly against your center – layers between and a moan still tempted your lips. 

But you wanted to hear him, too. His chest to yours, he caught you in a kiss, licking into your mouth. Blindly, you pulled your finger from his pants and slid your hand further down, cupping over his crotch – his cock hard and heavy against the material. His breath stuttered as your mind pieced together the feeling of him in your hand. He wasn’t wearing any briefs. 

You sank your teeth into his bottom lip and he hissed. “Glad we’re on the same page,” 

His lips parted in a faint sigh as you ran your fingers along his cock, feeling a curve, a vein. He dropped his head, hair swiping across your forehead. “You have no idea,” 

“Yeah?” You asked, tone light and teasing with a bite, nose nudging with his. “Clue me in,” 

He groaned against your mouth, one last sloppy kiss before leaning back and tugging his sweatpants down his thighs. Thong pulled to the side, you lapped at your palm and reached down, wrapping your fingers around his hard cock. 

“Oh fuck,” he grumbled, hands reaching out to grab at your knees, adjusting himself back between your legs. 

You watched his face, his expression as you pressed the tip of his cock down with your thumb, running the plump head across your clit, already swollen and glistening with your want. His eyes fluttered shut, head lolling back, but leaned into it. He shifted his knees back to lower the angle, letting you drag his length down to notch at your entrance. 

And then he meets your eyes as he presses his hips forward. A shudder rips through you as he stretches you, as he fills you, so intense that it stunned you both for a moment. Loud gasps followed by hums as he paused, your walls clenching tightly before he inches in, further and further. The heat in your belly grows into pressure between your thighs, adjusting to him, to the burn that blurred into pleasure. 

Your head falls back, eyes slipping closed as he pulls back and rocks back into you, setting a pace that already had you falling apart. Words and moans tangled in your throat but Austin wasn’t as quiet. His groan rattled through you, chest to his as his mouth sucks on the skin below your collarbone. 

“Feels so fucking good,” he breathes out as your fingers twined in his hair, legs curling around his, spurring him on. 

You wanted to say something but your mind failed you. Your tongue felt heavy and holy fuck, he’s so thick and you feel so full– but he finally draws that breathy moan from you when he bottoms out inside of you, pressing deeper, and you felt yourself come apart. 

“Oh fuck yes,” you mumble as pleasure licks at your spine. 

Fingers raking down his back, pressing half-moons into the skin of his shoulders, he was relentless. His knees dug into the cushion, into the backs of your thighs, jolting you with each movement, ebbing and flowing with each thrust that pulled you back onto him. 

His strong arm slides under your back and you arch closer into him, your hips shifting just slightly up from the sofa, meeting him in the middle – somehow deeper. 

“Fuck baby,” he groaned against your jaw, feeling your walls flutter, your thighs shake. 

You blindly turn your head to pull him into a kiss, the stubble on his chin raking against your skin, but you wanted more. More. Tongues and limbs tangled, your legs wrapped around his slender waist and the room filled with heavy breaths, the sound of slickness and slapping skin. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered and you lifted your eyes, finding him already looking at you. “Is this what you thought about?” 

A whimper emitted from your chest. Fuck. His tone, the tease, his cock, your mind was spinning. Completely drunk on everything he was giving you. You felt helpless, willing, like he’s the only one to ever have you like this. The ego, the toying was forgone – it was just you, bare with nothing but want and need. 

“Yes, yes,” your lips parted in a quivering moan as he pressed deeper, his cock passing over the tender spot inside of you, over and over as he rocked his hips. “Wanted you so bad, just like this,” 

He kissed you, all-consuming, moaning into your mouth as you tightened. He could feel everything, he knew you were inching further and further towards your end, and he was barrelling fast behind you. 

His pelvis glided against yours in the slick, his fingers digging into your skin, winding you tighter. He presses closer, thrusts more harsh and quick, no longer taking his time. It was desperation. You could feel him throb inside of you, right there, right there with you. 

It was the friction, the heat, the electricity that throws you over the edge. White heat flashes over your body and you come around him with a cry. And he follows – it’s blinding, emptying as he pulls his hips back, reaching for his slick cock and comes across your lower belly. He groans deep and gasps, his hot cum landing on your skin, and your hips twitched. 

Oh fuck. Holy fuck. 

You took in a deep breath, head falling back to the cushion, but you kept your eyes on him. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the purple locks back, and met your eyes. There was a beat, deep breaths and licking dry, swollen lips before the both of you grinned. 

He squeezed at your hiked knee, shuffling off the couch, and grabbed tissues from a box on the coffee table. He hands you two that you fold in your hand. 

“If you wanted me to stay the night, you could have just asked.” You said, ears ringing until you catch the faint sound of the movie on the TV. It had been long forgotten. 

Luckily you survived the insane amount of side eyes that Jamie and Aminata gave you when you were late to the photoshoot, you apologized a billion times over and assured them that there was just a fight in the locker room and you had to step in, nothing more. Although the smile that was glued to your face told them something else.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, all the pressure and responsibility of being the new champion had been washed away with Austin’s touch. It was kind of scary how kissing him made you feel like you were on a cloud, like all that mattered in those moments were you and him.

Even though you wanted to do was relive you and Austin’s hot locker room rendezvous, you and the girls had a match tonight, that had to take priority in your mind.

The Triangle of Madness have been giving Jamie and Aminata hell for weeks at this point, so the 3 on 3 main event for tonight would hopefully level the playing field and get those spooky weirdos off your girls’ backs.

———————-

The rest of the day went smoothly, you showered, ate, cut a quick pre-recorded promo against the triangle of madness, and now were getting ready for your match. You were in the splits on the cold floor, touching your toes as you and the girls idly chatted.

“I don’t know, I think they might try to use some kind of weapon so we need to be prepared” Aminata cautioned.

“We have my amazing arms we’ll be fine” Jamie boasted, flexing said arms.

Jamie and Aminatas words faded out of your head as you watched the match on the tv behind them. The second to last match of the night was Big Bill vs Ace Austin, their brawl last week giving the both of them a well earned match. The way Austin looked in the ring, the speed in which he did his moves, his athleticism, his charisma, it just allured you.

Bill goes for a powerbomb but Austin slips out of his grasp just in time to stun him, back up to the corner, throw a card, and hit his finisher on Bill. Ending the match. His finisher, The Fold, it looked so beautiful when he did it. It was just a variation of a neckbreaker but he made it look so devastating it made you blush. Why were you so mesmerized with everything he did?

The crush you had was starting to get unavoidable, it didn’t really help that you literally had sex with him just hours earlier. You should probably have an actual conversation with him, touch base on feelings, maybe even ask him out? It all felt so quick, you still barely knew anything about him but you guys just… clicked.

You felt a big nudge to the shoulder.

“Hello? We gotta get going!” Aminata snapped in front of your face.

Shit, his match being over meant you guys were next, “Sorry, I’m just tired today” you lied.

All of you gathered your stuff as you walked to gorilla, the triangle of madness would do their entrance first so you still had time to look at each others makeup and make sure you all looked as good as you possibly could.

You strapped your belt around your waist when you noticed Austin talking to someone, you stared at the card tattoo on his shoulder as Jamie and Aminata went through the curtains to do their tag team entrance. Biting your lip, you called him over.

He was completely covered in sweat from his match, and honestly, it was the hottest thing you think you’ve ever seen. So hot in fact that you didn’t hear your music start to play.

“Hey champ! Good luck tonight” he said with the biggest smile on his face, the after glow of winning a match was clearly affecting him.

“Oh thanks, you did a great job out there” you sheepishly replied. You swear his smile got bigger as he grabbed your hand, kissing the back of it, “your music is playing by the way” he quickly whispered in your ear.

You urgently grabbed his wrist before he could walk away. “I wanna talk after, meet me later?” He did a little finger gun at you, “Already ahead of ya”

What did he mean by that?

——————

Luckily you were quick to lock in and look as confident as possible as you did your entrance, even though you were definitely like twenty seconds later to que than usual.

The match was way more intense than you expected: Jamie got put through the announcers desk, Aminata knocked out Julia Hart with a headbutt and was currently fending off Skye Blue on the outside of the ring, leaving just you and Thekla as the legal women.

You swear you had given her everything you had, you did your own finisher on her twice now but the spider just wouldn’t stay down. Insecurity started to kick in quick as you caught your breath in the corner, what if you lost this? What if you get pinned a week after winning the championship? No, you were the AEW women’s world champion, you HAVE to think of something, think think think.

Thekla was getting up from the middle of the ring, you had to do something, any move, anything, right now, so without thinking, you did a move. You did The Fold.

1, 2, 3. You won.

Instead of feeling like a winner though, you stared blankly in horror at Theklas tired body, what the did you just do? The replay played on the screens all around you, you faintly heard Bryan Danielson on commentary say “I think, I think she just did Ace Austin’s finisher!”

No no no, the internet will be buzzing instantly, Jamie and Aminata will question you into oblivion, out of all the moves you could’ve done, you did his move. There was no amount of explanation that could get you out of this one.

The referee hands you your title, holding your hand high as Aminata rolls into the ring to hug you, she definitely didn’t see what happened yet.

The two of you gather up Jamie and head to the back, Aminata takes Jamie to the doctors room to get her an ice pack while you rush to the women’s locker room.

Once you get there, you instantly crumble to the floor, putting your head in your hands. Literally what could you possibly say to explain yourself, to the girls, to Austin, to everyone. You went to rub your sore arm, finally feeling the effects of the match, when you feel something in the sleeve of your gear.

Quickly, you pull it out. An ace of spades with writing on the back:

Meet me outside the men’s locker room

Did he seriously put a card up YOUR sleeve when he kissed the back of your hand, and you didn’t even notice?!

Throwing on a big shirt over your gear, you head over to the mens locker room. If you wanted start explaining things, it’d be best to start with him.

——————

Watching the beginning of your match on the monitors, Austin was anxiously playing with the ends of his wrist tape he still hadn’t taken off. He honestly had no clue what the two of you were, but he knew he desperately wanted to ask you out.

He took a quick shower, not wanting to smell bad whenever you finally found the card under your sleeve and (hopefully) stopped by the locker room. Got dressed, and sat down just in time to catch the ending of your match. You looked frantic the corner, he was anticipating you to hit a third finisher on Thekla. What he wasn’t expecting was for that finisher to be his.

—————

You knocked on the door twice, after a moment, the door opened and you were quickly yanked into the room.

“Ok so usually when someone wants to adopt someone else’s finisher as their own they ask before hand” Ace said as he closed the door behind you. Grinning big as he practically caged you in against the wall.

“Firstly that was an accident and secondly I thought the cards were supposed to be up your sleeve, not mine!”

“The cards can be up anyone’s sleeve that’s like the whole point” he laughed, turning away from you to go sit on a nearby chair, you did the same.

“Listen I wanted to talk because I feel like things have moved weirdly fast between us and honestly I don’t really know what this is” you started. “I haven’t really been able to get you off of my mind this entire week, and maybe that fact scares me because Jamie and Aminata would kill me if they knew I liked you but-“

“Why would they kill you for liking me?”

“I don’t know they really want to uphold this pretty, confident, untouchable, image of ours. And um, they think you look like a hot topic employee who doesn’t deserve a girl like me” you ranted, maybe being a little too honest.

“They’re not wrong I did work at a hot topic for a while” he shrugged, “but what does that have to do with what I do and don’t deserve? What about what you want?”

You had to think about that. Maybe you had let their desire of having a perfect, untouchable image get to you. Maybe you were scared if you did anything outside of that, they’d disown you and kick you out of the group. Maybe you were letting fear control you.

Taking your silence as an answer of sorts, Austin grabbed your hand. “I asked you to meet me here because I also haven’t been able to get you out of mind this week” he began, “I watched some of your interviews and matches and honestly I think you’re the coolest girl on the roster.” His compliment made you smile.

“I don’t know if that means I deserve you in your friends eyes, but if you’d like to get dinner sometime and see where this goes, I’m here” He said sweetly, giving your hand an assuring squeeze.

“I did say we have good chemistry” you laughed, “I’d like that a lot, but could we keep it lowkey? Until I can warm the girls up on the thought of us together?”

“Sure, we’ll keep it lowkey” He said smiling, kissing the side of your head. “Good luck explaining to them why you did my finisher though”

Patting your back teasingly, he stood up to grab his bags as you put your head in your hands in embarrassment. This conversation made you forget you did that, what were you gonna say to them?

“You did it pretty well, I’d give it 5 stars” his words make a mischievous spark ignite in you again.

“5 stars? Does that mean I can’t ask you to train me how to do it better?” You pouted.

He walked back over to you, backpack over his shoulder. “Oh I can definitely train you, but I might get a little touchy” he grinned as he brought you in for a short and sweet kiss.

——————

It was a morning full of media for you, you had started the day with a zoom interview for a local news station and were currently wrapping up a solo interview for AEWs YouTube channel. Jamie and Aminata texted you that the photoshoot the three of you were scheduled to do later in the day was pushed to… 30 MINUTES FROM NOW?You hadn’t even had a chance to eat breakfast yet.

(Jamie: oh also could you stop by our locker room and grab my daisy earrings? I forgot them. Thx love <3)

Texting them back that you’d be there as soon as you could, you started the long walk towards the elevators.

The week had been so busy you felt like you couldn’t catch a break, it didn’t help that you spent so much free time stalking Austins Instagram, staring at the loads of photos of him shirtless… did he ever wear a shirt? You weren’t sure. But he consumed every non-title related thought you had, was it even natural to want a guy so bad when you hadn’t even said one word to him?

Your mind went blank when you saw him in front of the elevators, you mentally pouted at the fact he had a shirt on.

——

“Are they secretly dating? The look they gave each other was hot!! AEW needs to capitalize on this”

Austin scrolled endlessly at the comments of the interview clip from last week, it’s not like much even happened but the crumbs of a potential romantic storyline had everyone talking. Maybe he should talk to Tony to see if a romantic storyline was even a possibility.

He shut his phone off as he got closer to the elevators, he had just came back from the weirdly small gym the arena had, wanting to get a quick workout in before shooting some promos. As he pressed the button to go down, the sound of platform heels approaching made him turn around a little too quickly.

Time stood still as he burned the image of your figure in his mind. You were wearing an off the shoulder top that showed off just enough cleavage that he could see the lace of your bra peak through, not to mention the cutest denim pleated skirt that covered everything it needed to but was short enough that if he were to bend you over, he’d get a full view of your round ass. His gym shorts got a little uncomfortable all of the sudden.

“Oh my gosh, hi! It’s nice to formally meet you” you stretched out your hand for him to shake.

He swallowed as he took it “Hey! Sorry about last week, it’s nice to meet you too” your hand felt so small in his, so soft.

The elevator doors opened and the both of you walked in, “you heading to the locker rooms too?” He asked. You nodded as he pressed the first floor button.

The air in the elevator felt tense, the musky mix of his cologne and sweat making you feel intoxicated. Austin stared at the floor, trying to think of something to say before he lost this chance to talk to you. “Did you see they’re shipping us online?” Out of all the things he could’ve said, he said that?

You were taken aback by the sudden question, and answered without thinking. “Yeah, they said we’d be cute together, like some kind of popular girl x loser guy trope” your eyes widened when you said it, immediately taking it back.

“Wait no, I don’t mean you’re a loser but like I saw comments saying that, I don’t think you’re a loser I actually think you’re-“

“Hey, I get what you meant don’t worry about it” He laughed, rubbing your shoulder as your cheeks flushed. “You’re cute”

You wanted to melt into a pile of goo, he thinks you’re cute? If Jamie and Aminata saw how flustered you were right now they’d probably be hit you over the head with a chair. Wait a minute, Jamie and Aminata. They were busy, preparing for the photo shoot on the other side of the arena. You felt heat pool between your legs as an idea began to form. You had some time to yourself, time that the girls wouldn’t know about and time Austin could fill…

“Do you wanna test something?” You bravely asked, looking at him with a sudden excitement in your eyes.

“Test what?”

“Our chemistry, see if everyone online is right”

Austin felt like he misheard you, did you just ask him if he wanted to fuck?

—————————

The two of you hurriedly walked through the busy hallways, Ace had no clue where you were taking him but hoped you reached your destination soon because he didn’t know how much longer he could resist pulling you into a supply closet and getting in between your thighs.

You stopped in front of the women’s locker room, peaking in to make sure no one was in there.

Austin looked nervous, “I can’t go in here” he said.

“What are you? a vampire?”

“It’s the women’s locker room that’s like the one place a guy isn’t allowed!”

“No one’s in here don’t worry about it, plus I need to grab something in here, just shut the door behind you”

You pulled him in the room a little too quickly though, he tried to nudge the door shut with his foot but didn’t fully get there, leaving the door open just a crack.

He didn’t know why or where you were getting this confidence from, but he wasn’t mad at it. You pushed him against the back wall and crashed your lips against his, the kiss felt electric, the mix of excitement for doing something you know your friends won’t approve of and the feeling of his big hands holding your waist so tightly made you dizzy.

Your tongues danced together sweetly as you made out, maybe people online were right, you guys did have chemistry, kissing him felt so natural to you, you wanted to do it all day.

Just as his hands began to go lower, about to lift your skirt, the buzz of your phone snapped you into reality. You stepped away from him to look at it.

Shit. It had already been 10 minutes since the girls texted you, and it would take at least 7 minutes to get to where the photo shoot if you really hurried, that left you with only 13 minutes to enjoy this secret rendezvous with Austin. But that doesn’t even include the time it will take to touch up your makeup or fix your outfit. He saw the anxious expression on your face.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah yeah yeah um, I have like 10 minutes before I have to leave for a photo shoot actually so unfortunately we have to make this quick” you looked at him apologetically, you really wanted to savor every moment of this indulgence. “Oh also please try not to ruin my outfit… or makeup”

He smiled devilishly as he picked you up effortlessly, sitting you on the end of a nearby table that was against the wall, he was most definitely gonna mess up your outfit and makeup. The table was almost like a makeshift vanity with the right side having a big mirror attached to the wall, luckily no one’s makeup bags were on it so you had it all to yourselves.

His lips found yours again quick, kissing you with more urgency this time. As much as he loved the feeling of your soft lips, he was desperate to make the most of this. He pulled down his gym shorts as your hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Leaving him in just his boxers.

God, his body looked so stunning, you whimpered just looking at him. He was still a little damp with sweat from his earlier workout, making you wish you had the time to shower with him after this. He flipped you over onto your stomach, perfectly bending you over the table. His thought from the elevator was right, bending you over did give him a perfect view of your ass, so perfect that he wanted to take a photo of it and keep it in his wallet. Grabbing a handful of it would have to do for now.

He took a deep breath to collect himself, he had to focus here with the time restraint you had given him, he pulled his boxers down and pushed your (impossibly) soaked panties to the side. Aligning himself with your entrance, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and whispered in your ear.

“You didn’t give me the best opportunity to shut the door, so it’s not fully closed right now,” your blood went cold as you turned to the left to look at the door, he wasn’t lying, the door really wasn’t fully shut. He continued, “you better be quiet unless you want one of your friends to come in and tell everyone how the ‘loser guy’ rearranged your insides”

He let go of your hair as his thick cock pushed inside, you covered your mouth to hide the whimpers you wanted to let out from the delicious pain of the stretch. He didn’t go easy on you either, starting a rough pace as soon as he had bottomed out.

His hands gripped your waist tight, your ass was so perfectly framed by your skirt, he didn’t know if he had the heart to let this be just a quickie. You were just so warm, and you felt so you good around him.

It felt like you were losing your mind, the fear that someone might walk in was on the forefront of your mind, but it was only making you wetter. Slick gushing down your thighs as Austins hips met yours repeatedly. You couldn’t stay still, upper body squirming around and scratching at the hard surface of the table, doing anything to try to stay quiet. He was somehow hitting all the right spots, you didn’t know if this counted as chemistry or just pure magic at this point. The sensation of it all was so overwhelming.

You finally looked to the right, where the mirror was, you had honestly forgotten it was there. Austin swear he almost came at the sight of your fucked out face in the mirror. Your lipstick was smudged, a line of drool connected from your lips down to a small puddle on the table, the flush on your cheeks was as red as ever, your eyes were glossy, you were doing your absolute best to keep quiet but didn’t notice the small moans you were letting out, you were the most beautiful thing Austin had ever seen.

He lowered his head down to yours, staring back at you in the mirror. The only sounds coming from your sloppy pussy. “I swear the quieter you are, the louder your pussy is” he teased. You looked at his reflection with the biggest puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen. Your hand reaching behind to grab his “I-I can’t” you quietly whined, “‘m gonna cum”

It was like you were trying to drag his arm somewhere. It finally clicked to him what you wanted. He kissed the back of your head, “don’t worry baby I’ll help you out” he assured as he wrapped his arm around your neck, putting just enough pressure that it was hard for you to make any loud sounds at all. His pace got faster, getting close to his own high. It all felt so primal, so dirty, the both of you loved it.

Your nails dug into his arm as you came, he made sure the headlock was tight enough so you wouldn’t make noise, it was the most blissfully dizzying feeling you’ve ever felt. He could say the same, his hips slowing down as he came deep inside you. You could feel his hot breathes on the back of your shoulder as he rested his head there.

“‘m sorry, I should’ve asked before cumming inside but I didn’t wanna ruin your pretty outfit” he slurred between breaths.

“It’s ok, I would’ve let you do it anyway” you smiled. The both of you laid there, awkwardly bent over, for what felt like a while.

“So, do you think we have good chemistry?”

“Honestly I’m not sure, I think we may need to test it out more”

You looked at your phone, 5 minutes until you are supposed to be at the photo shoot.