𝗪𝗪𝗘 𝗪𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱
𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝: Alex Shelley, Chris Sabin, CM Punk, Cody Rhodes, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, JD McDonagh, Karrion Kross, LA Knight, Penta, Rey, Alexa Bliss, Chelsea Green, Dakota Kai, Liv Morgan, Scarlett
alex shelley [ 42 & 25 \ 17 year age gap ]
❀ At first, Alex really tried not to catch feelings. He noticed you, sure — who wouldn’t? But once he found out your age, he quietly pulled away.
❀ He’s hyper-aware of optics. “I don’t want to be that guy,” he told Sabin once, running a hand over his face.
❀ It’s not that he thinks the age gap means anything bad — just that he knows people talk, and he’s already a niche name with enough weird online rumors.
❀ You probably have to make the first move. Gently, but clearly.
❀ Even then, he double-checks. “You do know how old I am, right?”
❀ He’s not insecure, but he’s cautious. He doesn’t want you to wake up five years down the road and resent him for “stealing your twenties.”
❀ He asks, often, “Are you sure?” Sometimes about the relationship. Sometimes about the future. Sometimes in bed.
❀ You’ll reassure him, then tease, “Dude, you’re not a hundred. You’re hot and you quote Nietzsche when you’re sleepy. I’m good.”
❀ He once got moody after a fan said, “Damn, Alex’s new girl is young enough to be his student.” He laughed it off — but you could tell it hit something deeper.
❀ Alex is quietly intense. He listens when you talk about your passions like they’re sacred texts. He buys you weird indie books and writes you playlists.
❀ He keeps you grounded when you spiral, and you pull him out of his tendency to emotionally isolate.
❀ He calls you “kid” sometimes. Not to be condescending — more like a soft nickname he doesn’t realize he says.
❀ You make fun of him when he says “tape” instead of “stream” and don’t know the bands he grew up on.
❀ He makes fun of your generation’s slang and refuses to learn TikTok.
❀ He once joked, “When you were in kindergarten, I was working Ring of Honor tapings.” You didn’t think it was funny. He apologized. You made him watch your favorite cartoon in revenge.
❀ He sometimes worries he’s holding you back. That you’ll want kids when he’s done thinking about that. Or that someday he’ll be 50 and you’ll be 33 and feel trapped.
❀ You told him one night, dead serious: “I didn’t fall in love with your age. I fell in love with you.”
❀ That was the first time he cried a little after a kiss.
❀ He doesn’t broadcast the relationship online. Not because he’s ashamed — but because he knows how fast people judge when they don’t understand.
❀ You both have an agreement: stay strong privately, and let the world think whatever it wants.
❀ When he finally calls you his partner in an interview — not “girlfriend,” not “someone I’m seeing” — it means more than a ring.
chris sabin [ 43 & 23 / 20 year age gap]
❀ Chris didn’t even think of you like that at first. You were just “the kid” around the locker room — cool, talented, kinda dorky, kinda hot, way too young.
❀ He clocked the age gap the second he learned it. “Jesus. Twenty-three?!” He laughed — nervously — like it was the punchline to a joke about his own mortality.
❀ “I’m closer to your dad’s age than yours.”
❀ He avoided flirting even though he definitely wanted to — didn’t want to be that guy.
❀ But then you kept showing up. Being kind. Being funny. Quoting his matches. And suddenly he wasn’t laughing anymore.
❀ You probably had to call him out first. Something like: “You always act weird around me, but I know you like me.”
❀ He stammered, said some dumb crap about “protecting your innocence” or “trying not to be a midlife crisis meme.”
❀ But when you told him, “I like you, not your birth year,” it broke something open in him.
❀ Chris finally gave in with a sigh and a soft smirk: “Okay, kid. Just don’t tell anyone I was still using LimeWire when you were in diapers.”
❀ “Are you sure about this?” — said at least once a week, especially when you do something thoughtful for him.
❀ You reassure him often, teasing: “Dude, if you make one more AARP joke, I’m gonna put you in a headlock.”
❀ He calls you “kid” or “rookie” affectionately, but only in private — not in a patronizing way, but like a pet name.
❀ You argue about music, movies, and which generation had the better cartoons. He always pretends to win, even when he’s wrong.
❀ He flirts by giving you hell. You flirt back by calling him washed.
❀ He does little things for you like charging your phone for you, carrying your bag, wrapping your wrist before a match. He’s quiet about it, but deeply present.
❀ He lets you borrow his gear hoodies. You “accidentally” never return them.
❀ Sometimes, when he’s feeling it, he pulls you into his lap and says, “God, how’d I land someone like you?” You tell him: “Because you still got it, Sabin.”
❀ Chris is softer than he lets on. At home, it’s warm hoodies, Star Wars reruns, and your legs tangled up on the couch.
❀ He’ll rest his head on your chest like he’s hiding from the world, and you’ll stroke his hair and say, “You’re not old. You’re golden.”
❀ You once caught him looking at old TNA clips of himself, quietly. You didn’t say anything. You just kissed his shoulder and held him tighter.
❀ He keeps your photo — a printed one — tucked in his wallet. No one knows but you. (And Alex who accidentally saw it)
❀ Chris worries all the time that you’ll regret choosing someone older. That you’ll wake up and want someone who matches your timeline.
❀ “What if I can’t give you all the things a 25-year-old can?” he asks one night.
❀ You look him dead in the eye: “They can’t give me you.”
❀ He’s afraid people will see him as some washed-up guy clinging to youth. You’re afraid people will see you as naive.
❀ So together, you just choose to block out the noise. You make your own rules.
❀ Chris takes his time going public. He wants to protect you. Not from being seen with him — but from what people might say.
❀ But once he’s sure you’re serious? He’s all in. Brags about you in interviews like it’s nothing.
❀ You end up being the one who pulls him back into the spotlight in a new way. Younger fans know him now because of you.
❀ “She thinks I’m cool,” he says once in a podcast. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but I’m not gonna question it.”
❀ And when people ask how the age gap works? He just smiles and shrugs: “She keeps me young. I keep her grounded. Works out.”
cm punk [ 46 & 33 / 13 year age gap ]
❀ Punk didn’t take you seriously at first. Not because he didn’t like you — but because he absolutely did, and that scared the hell out of him.
❀ The age gap wasn’t just a number to him. It was an entire lifetime of baggage, headlines, Twitter threads, and burned bridges.
❀ “You’re too young to know better,” he muttered once, when you looked at him like he hung the stars.
❀ He told himself you’d move on. You didn’t. You stayed — and it wrecked every wall he’d built around himself.
❀ It happened in a quiet moment. He didn’t plan it. No speech, no dramatic gesture. Just a sigh and a soft, almost embarrassed, “You make me feel human again.”
❀ You didn’t need declarations. You just needed honesty. So when he added, “I think I’m falling for you,” it was enough.
❀ He apologized for the age gap like it was a flaw — like you should’ve picked someone younger, someone less him.
❀ You told him, “I didn’t fall for you by accident. I chose this.” He didn’t say anything, just pulled you into his arms like a man who hadn’t been held in years.
❀ Long, winding talks at 2AM — about the business, the bullshit, the people who used him, and the parts of himself he lost along the way.
❀ He listens when you rant, and gently tells you when you’re being too hard on yourself.
❀ “You’ve got time to figure yourself out,” he’ll say. “Just don’t lose your soul doing it.”
❀ You challenge him sometimes — ask the questions no one else does. And he likes that more than he’ll ever admit out loud.
❀ And yeah, he lives for your sarcasm. He once told you, grinning: “If I was 20 years younger, I’d still lose an argument with you.”
❀ Protection masked as indifference. He acts chill, but he’d absolutely torch the earth for you.
❀ Physical touch. He doesn’t do PDA, but in private? He’s always touching you — your back, your hair, your hand.
❀ Acts of service — making your tea, downloading your favorite playlist on a flight, carrying your bag when no one’s watching.
❀ He doesn’t say “I love you” often. But he says “Get home safe,” “Wear your seatbelt,” and “You okay?” every single day.
❀ The public gets the punk rock rebel. You get the quiet, hoodie-wearing softie who quotes books and reads old comics in bed.
❀ He lets you trace his tattoos when you’re lying on the couch. He doesn’t say anything. He just closes his eyes.
❀ You once caught him watching an old match and mumbling his own commentary. He got embarrassed. You thought it was beautiful.
❀ He writes notes and leaves them around the house. Not love letters — stuff like: “You’re not a kid. You’re the only one who sees me.”
❀ He worries constantly that he’s taking something from you — your youth, your time, your chance to grow without his shadow.
❀ “You should be doing dumb 20-something things, not babysitting a bitter old man with joint problems.”
❀ He’s scared that you’ll wake up one day, realize you want something easier, lighter, safer — and walk away.
❀ But you remind him that love isn’t about convenience. It’s about who makes you feel alive. And no one does that like he does.
❀ He’s hesitant to go public. Not because he’s ashamed — but because he knows what people will say.
❀ But the first time someone talks shit online and you clap back? He sees it, chuckles, and reposts your comeback with the caption: “That’s my girl.”
❀ In private, he calls you his peace. His anchor. His home.
❀ When he finally proposes — and he will — it won’t be flashy. Just the two of you, a quiet night, and a simple, “I want to spend however many years I’ve got left with you.”
cody rhodes [ 39 & 27 / 12 year age gap ]
❀ Cody’s first reaction to finding out your age was surprise — not in a gross way, but in a “wait, what?” kind of way.
❀ “You’re 27?” he asked, brows raised. “I’m literally pushing 40.”
❀ He didn’t flirt right away, even if he was into you. Too much respect. Too much awareness.
❀ Deep down, he was scared you’d just see him as some overpolished, walking PR poster with baggage and a legacy complex.
❀ But then you laughed at his dumb jokes, teased him about his entrance being longer than your attention span, and called him out when he tried to hide his nerves. You saw him. That’s what changed everything.
❀ It happened slowly — soft confessions built on mutual glances and quiet loyalty.
❀ He didn’t come out and say it at first. But one night after a rough loss, when you hugged him and told him he didn’t have to prove anything to you, he broke.
❀ “I think I’m in love with you,” he whispered.
❀ He expected you to freeze. You didn’t. You kissed him. You held him like you’d known forever.
❀ “I already knew,” you said. “Took you long enough.”
❀ You talk about pressure, about legacy, about who you want to be when the spotlight’s off.
❀ He listens when you rant about your own stuff. He doesn’t interrupt — just nods and takes it all in.
❀ Sometimes he brings up Dusty when he’s feeling vulnerable. You don’t say much. You just sit closer and hold his hand.
❀ He tells you, “You’re not a kid. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve met.” That’s how he sees you.
❀ And when you tease him? He loves it. “Okay, Grandpa,” you once said. He nearly choked laughing.
❀ Physical touch. Forehead kisses. Hand on your back. Arms wrapped around you while you sleep.
❀ Words of affirmation. He tells you you’re brilliant, brave, and better than you know — because he means it.
❀ Buys you little things that remind him of you: notebooks, coffee mugs, a hoodie with your favorite movie quote on it.
❀ Always introduces you proudly, no hesitation in his voice.
❀ Will hype you up before anything important like you’re about to main event WrestleMania.
❀ He’s calm. Softer. You see the guy behind the suits, behind the pyro.
❀ He loves having slow mornings with you — coffee, half-asleep kisses, curled up in his shirt.
❀ Talks to you about fears he doesn’t let anyone else hear. You’re his safe space.
❀ He lets his guard down with you, and that trust means everything.
❀ Once whispered “you’re the dream I never knew I had” when he thought you were asleep.
❀ He worries about how people will see you — that they’ll assume you’re chasing fame, or that he’s trying to look young.
❀ He never wants to make you feel like you have to grow up faster just to “match” him.
❀ Sometimes he overthinks — “Am I giving you enough?” “Am I too intense?”
❀ You always bring him back with simple, steady reassurance: “You’re not too much. You’re exactly right.”
❀ And when his mind spirals, you remind him: “I’m not with Cody Rhodes. I’m with you.”
❀ Cody doesn’t do anything halfway. Once he knows you’re it, he’s in it for the long haul.
❀ He pictures you in his future — beside him at events, backstage at big moments, slow dancing in the kitchen.
❀ He keeps it private at first, but when he posts a soft picture of you on IG with a heart caption, it breaks the internet.
❀ He doesn’t care what people think anymore. You make him better. You make him whole.
drew mcintyre [ 40 & 29 / 11 year age gap ]
❀ Drew didn’t even think about the age difference at first — you were just you, and that was enough to rattle him.
❀ When he found out your age, he paused and gave you this deep look like he was doing silent math in his head.
❀ “You’re 29?” he said slowly, like it wasn’t a big deal but also kind of was. “Damn… I’ve been wrestling longer than you’ve been legally allowed to drink.”
❀ He kept it respectful. Protective. Almost distant at first — not because he didn’t want you, but because he didn’t want to overstep.
❀ But the way you looked at him — like you saw the man behind the muscle — made him start to rethink everything.
❀ It slipped out after a long night on the road, when you were curled up in a hotel room watching dumb TV.
❀ “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone like I want you,” he said, eyes heavy but honest.
❀ You kissed him and said, “So stop fighting it.”
❀ He didn’t answer right away. He just held you tighter, like he finally gave himself permission to want this.
❀ From that moment on, he never made you question how he felt — not once.
❀ Deep talks. The kind that happen at midnight after long drives or after matches when adrenaline crashes into honesty.
❀ He tells you about growing up too fast. About failure, redemption, and how heavy the sword sometimes feels.
❀ You call him on his brooding when it gets too intense: “Alright, Braveheart, come back to Earth.”
❀ He listens when you talk about your own dreams — and never once makes you feel small for them.
❀ Occasionally gets overwhelmed by how much he loves you and just stares. You tease him for it, but secretly melt every time.
❀ Physical protection. He always puts himself between you and a crowd, instinctively holds your lower back, opens doors, watches your surroundings.
❀ Quality time. Long walks, long talks, late-night cuddles with his giant arms wrapped around you like a fortress.
❀ Surprises you with flowers, quiet gestures, and sometimes ridiculously dramatic romantic stuff — like lifting you bridal-style just because he can.
❀ Soft forehead kisses, especially when you’re anxious. He leans in slow, and it always works.
❀ Loves when you wear his shirts — not even for the look, just because it means you’re his.
❀ Behind closed doors, he’s quieter. Gentle. His voice drops to this soft rumble that only you get to hear.
❀ Reads with his head in your lap. Lets you braid his hair when you’re bored. Grumbles about it, secretly loves it.
❀ He has a playlist full of songs that remind him of you but won’t admit it unless you catch him.
❀ You once caught him looking at rings online — he shut the tab fast, but his ears turned red.
❀ At home, he’s just Drew. No sword. No scowl. Just the man who loves you like it’s the only truth that matters.
❀ He worries you’ll get tired of the road, the spotlight, the grind that comes with dating a WWE guy in his 40s.
❀ “You should be with someone who hasn’t already broken every bone,” he joked once. You didn’t laugh. You kissed his scarred knuckles instead.
❀ He fears holding you back — that you’ll want something easier one day.
❀ And even though he never says it out loud, he sometimes wonders why someone like you would choose someone like him.
❀ You make it clear every single time: “I didn’t fall in love with the wrestler. I fell in love with you.”
❀ Once he knows you’re it? He’s already mentally planning a future. A quiet place in the Highlands. Peace.
❀ He talks about having dogs. Maybe a cabin. Maybe more — but he lets you bring that up first.
❀ He takes your relationship seriously from the start — no games, no half-measures.
❀ When he finally proposes, it’s private. Gentle. On one knee with tears in his eyes and both of your hands shaking.
finn balor [ 43 & 23 / 20 year age gap ]
❀ Finn clocked the age gap the second you told him your birth year. “Two thousand what?” he blinked, half-laughing, half-spiraling.
❀ He kept his distance at first — not because he didn’t want you, but because he absolutely did, and that terrified him.
❀ “You’re just getting started,” he told you. “You don’t want to be dragged into my mess.”
❀ Deep down, he thought you’d eventually realize he was too cold, too damaged, too old.
❀ But you stayed. Even when he tried to push you away. That was when it hit him: you saw through the mask.
❀ It came out during an argument — not loud, but tense. You asked him why he kept pulling back.
❀ “Because I’m scared you’ll wake up and see me for what I am,” he said. Quiet. Honest. Raw.
❀ You told him, “I already see you. That’s why I’m here.”
❀ He didn’t say “I love you” right then — he just kissed you, slow and deliberate, like the words lived in his mouth and couldn’t come out yet.
❀ When he finally said it weeks later, it was whispered into your hair at 3AM, after a nightmare. “I love you. That’s real. That’s not going away.”
❀ Deep, layered talks — about loyalty, pain, reinvention, and what it means to survive in a business that eats people alive.
❀ You bring out the version of him that still laughs. The version that cares. The one that isn’t just Fergal underneath all that war paint.
❀ “You’re not scared of me,” he once said, almost like a question. You smiled: “Should I be?”
❀ He lets you tease him — even when you call him “grandpa” for not knowing a meme.
❀ He’ll playfully roll his eyes, but nothing makes him melt more than hearing you say, “You’re my favorite part of all this.”
❀ Quality time. He doesn’t need fancy plans — just you, a couch, your legs over his lap, and music playing low.
❀ Physical closeness. He always has a hand on your thigh, your waist, the back of your neck — like he needs to know you’re real.
❀ He buys you black leather or plum-colored things that match his gear — and loses his mind when you wear them.
❀ Forehead kisses. Slow hugs. That rare smile he only shows when he thinks no one’s watching — except you always are.
❀ When he’s anxious, your voice centers him. No one else calms his pulse like you do.
❀ You get the softest version of Finn — hoodie up, socks on, lying with his head in your lap, asking what you’re reading.
❀ He lets you trace his tattoos. He says nothing, but his breathing slows every time.
❀ He listens to your music playlists even if he pretends to hate your taste — secretly has three of your songs saved.
❀ At home, he lets you call him “baby.” If anyone else tried that, they’d get a death stare.
❀ You once caught him building a Lego Rose Bouquet just for you, so that you can put on display.
❀ He worries people will see you as naïve. That they’ll think he manipulated you, or worse — that you’ll believe them.
❀ He’s not scared of judgment from strangers. He’s scared of letting you down.
❀ “You deserve someone with less history,” he says sometimes. You always respond, “You are not your past.”
❀ He wonders if you’ll want kids someday, or a stable, slow life. He wonders if he’ll be enough.
❀ He’s cautious about showing you off publicly — not to hide you, but to protect you.
❀ But once he knows this is it, he stops hesitating. Posts a picture of your hand in his, dark red nails and all. No caption.
❀ He talks about retiring differently now — less like an end, more like a beginning. “Maybe one day… we’ll get a place near the sea.”
❀ He’s already imagining growing old with you. Not dramatic, not loud. Just quiet mornings and knowing glances.
jd mcdonagh [ 35 & 21 / 14 year age gap ]
❀ JD didn’t hesitate because of your age — he hesitated because of his own mind.
❀ He was more worried about what it meant to let someone in. Especially someone as alive as you.
❀ “You’re 21?” he asked once, not judging — just calculating. “That’s not young. That’s formative.”
❀ He watched you for a while, never pushy — just observant. Waiting to see if your energy would burn out or turn serious.
❀ And when you didn’t flinch at his darker thoughts? That’s when he knew.
❀ He didn’t confess it. He implied it. JD is the kind of man who wraps vulnerability in riddles.
❀ “You make everything sharper,” he told you one night. “Most people dull me. You don’t.”
❀ You figured it out, like a puzzle piece clicking into place. “You’re in love with me, aren’t you?”
❀ He didn’t say yes. He just smiled — not with his mouth, but with that cold fire in his eyes.
❀ And later, when things got quiet, he whispered against your neck: “It’s not love. It’s obsession. That’s much worse.”
❀ You two speak in code — private jokes, unfinished thoughts, looks that say everything.
❀ He rants about philosophy, violence, the psychology of fear — and you engage. Not just nod along.
❀ “You’re disturbingly smart,” he once said after you countered one of his arguments. “It’s infuriating.”
❀ He’ll ask you questions mid-match, backstage — just to see if you’re watching closely enough to keep up.
❀ Your banter could destroy planets. Everyone else is confused and maybe a little afraid.
❀ Mental stimulation. He needs your mind more than anything else. You challenge him. That’s rare.
❀ Unhinged protection. Someone talks down to you because of your age? JD’s smile gets sharper — and you know he’s about to say something that’ll haunt them forever.
❀ Sends you bizarrely specific gifts: a rare book on body language, a vial of black sand, a charm that “wards off liars.”
❀ Touch isn’t constant, but when it happens — his hand on the back of your neck, his fingers tracing your spine — it’s electric.
❀ He memorizes your habits. Doesn’t just know what you like — he knows why.
❀ The JD people see in public? That cold, calculating tactician? That’s not who you get.
❀ Behind closed doors, he’s still intense — but soft-spoken. Introspective. Clingy in weird ways.
❀ He’ll read aloud to you, but only if you sit in his lap. He doesn’t like distance once he’s decided you’re safe.
❀ You’re the only person who’s ever been allowed to touch his gear before a match. He pretends it doesn’t matter — it does.
❀ He once said, “If I had met you when I was your age, I wouldn’t have survived you.” And he meant it.
❀ He doesn’t worry about being older — he worries about corrupting you.
❀ “You’re so… pure,” he says, like it’s a threat. “It’d be a tragedy if I ruined that.”
❀ He’s convinced he’s too far gone sometimes. That you’ll realize he’s a project, not a partner.
❀ But when you say things like, “I know exactly who you are — and I’m still here,” he looks at you like you just rewired his entire belief system.
❀ His biggest fear? That he’ll make you like the chaos too much. That he’ll turn you into a version of him. And somehow… you’re okay with that.
❀ JD doesn’t plan for forever. He plans for outlasting.
❀ He talks about time like it’s malleable — like maybe the two of you can bend it, break it, make it yours.
❀ “We don’t need a picket fence. We need a fortress,” he once said. “One no one gets into but us.”
❀ Marriage isn’t off the table — but he’d want something symbolic, something ancient, something no one else understands.
karrion kross [ 39 & 28 / 11 year age gap ]
❀ Kross doesn’t fear judgment — he fears fragility. And at first, he assumes you’re too soft for the world he lives in.
❀ When you first connect, he keeps his distance. Cold, unreadable. Always watching.
❀ “You’re 28?” he asked once. Calm tone. But there was a flicker in his eyes — like a warning to himself.
❀ He doesn’t like feeling drawn to someone. Doesn’t trust that kind of pull.
❀ But when you look him dead in the eye, no fear, no hesitation… that’s when his walls start cracking.
❀ He doesn’t do grand confessions. His love shows in actions, not speeches.
❀ But one night, after a match that left him battered and bloody, you sat beside him in silence, gently cleaned his wounds, and said, “You don’t have to fight alone.”
❀ He took your wrist, kissed your palm, and said, “You already fight with me.”
❀ Later, you asked if that meant he loved you. He didn’t answer — just pressed his forehead to yours like it was a vow.
❀ The next day, he wore a chain around his neck with your birthstone in it. No one had to ask why.
❀ Conversations with Kross are deep, intense, often layered in metaphor. He doesn’t do surface talk.
❀ He’ll randomly ask, “If the world ended tomorrow, what would you regret not saying to me?” — like he needs to hear your truth.
❀ You talk about power, fear, pain — and your ability to hold space in a life that’s anything but normal.
❀ He listens more than he speaks, but when he talks, every word is heavy — and meant.
❀ Sometimes, in rare moments of softness, he’ll whisper things like, “You calm the monster. You know that?”
❀ Protection. He walks with you like a shadow. Always watching. Always alert.
❀ Silent touch. A hand on your waist. A brush of his knuckles across your back. A grip on your thigh beneath the table.
❀ He doesn’t give you typical gifts — he gives you keepsakes: a knife he’s carried since his first match, a ring from his father, a piece of his history.
❀ His version of “I love you” is “I’d burn the world down for you.”
❀ You once joked he was your villain. He said, “I’m your sword. Not your savior. Not your villain. Yours.”
❀ He’s quieter. Softer. Less armor, more skin.
❀ You’ve seen him sleep with his hand resting on your hip like a tether to reality.
❀ He reads dark poetry out loud — but only to you. His voice low, steady, magnetic.
❀ His favorite thing? You curled against him post-shower, his hoodie swallowing you, his name soft on your lips.
❀ Once let you trace the scar on his chest and said, “Every one of these marks meant something — but none meant more than you do now.”
❀ He doesn’t worry about the age gap — he worries about what being with him means for you.
❀ “You don’t get to have normal,” he told you. “Not with me.”
❀ He’s terrified you’ll wake up one day craving a softer life. A safer man. A younger man.
❀ He doesn’t beg. But the night you told him, “I don’t want soft. I want you,” he exhaled like it was the first real breath he took in years.
❀ His greatest fear? That his darkness will one day swallow the light you bring. So he keeps a piece of you — a note, a photo, your scent on his pillow — with him always.
❀ Kross doesn’t plan for the white picket fence life — but he plans for you. Always.
❀ Talks about leaving the chaos behind someday. Buying land. Raising wolves. Living quietly — with you as his peace.
❀ When he proposes, it’s not with a ring. It’s with a blade. Ancient. Silver. “This is yours now. Like I am.”
❀ You’re not his weakness. You’re his tether. His center. The only thing he’d ever kneel for.e
la knight [ 42 & 29 / 12 year age gap ]
❀ LA Knight isn’t shy about flirting, but the moment he found out you were 29, he gave a raised brow and a low whistle.
❀ “Twenty-nine? Hell, I’ve got sneakers older than you,” he said with a smirk — but the moment lingered longer than he let on.
❀ He wasn’t worried about what you thought — he was more surprised at how fast he started caring.
❀ He tried to play it cool, calling you “kid” or “rookie” to push you away, but you gave it right back.
❀ That mouth of yours? Yeah, it caught his attention. But your brain? That’s what kept him coming back.
❀ It wasn’t some deep, dramatic moment. He said it like it was fact — mid-argument, eyes locked on yours.
❀ “You think I’d let anyone else talk to me like that? Nah. I’m in love with you, that’s why.”
❀ You blinked. He kept talking like it wasn’t a big deal.
❀ “Don’t make it weird now,” he added with a wink — but his thumb brushed your cheek afterward, soft like the moment actually did matter.
❀ That’s the thing with him: all bark in public, but his bite is only ever gentle with you.
❀ Constant teasing. Pet names. Arguments that start with sass and end in kisses.
❀ “You keep acting like you know everything ‘cause you’re 42,” you said once. He just grinned. “You’re damn right I do.”
❀ Beneath the banter, though, he opens up — late at night, when the cameras are gone and his guard’s down.
❀ Talks about regrets, second chances, and how nobody really expected him to get this far.
❀ You call him out when he hides behind the gimmick. He secretly loves that.
❀ Words. Compliments, flirtation, jokes — but laced with real meaning.
❀ “Nobody’s lookin’ at me when you’re in the room, baby. You make me look like a warm-up act.”
❀ Physical affection. Constant touch — arm around your waist, hand on your thigh, tugging you close just to feel you laugh against him.
❀ Shows you off every chance he gets. Posts pictures with you on his lap, not the other way around.
❀ Buys you flashy stuff — not because he thinks you need it, but because he wants you to feel like the prize you are.
❀ Offstage, he’s quieter than most expect. Still cocky, but with less bark, more realness.
❀ Wears sweats, lounges against you, lets you play with his hair while watching reruns of old wrestling shows he was barely in.
❀ You once caught him listening to your favorite playlist when you weren’t around. When you asked, he just shrugged. “Had to see what kind of chaos raised you.”
❀ Lets you wear his jackets — doesn’t say it, but seeing you in them? That does things to him.
❀ When he wraps his arms around you at night, he always says, “You good?” — and never falls asleep till you say yes.
❀ He pretends he doesn’t care what people think, but part of him wonders if folks assume he’s just using you to feel younger.
❀ Once said, “You sure you don’t wanna be out clubbing with someone who doesn’t ice his knees after a workout?”
❀ He’s not insecure — just aware.
❀ You never let that nonsense fly. You ground him with reminders that he’s the only one who makes you feel seen.
❀ His real fear? That you’ll outgrow him, or move on when the spark fades. So he keeps it burning like it’s day one, every damn day.
❀ He acts like he doesn’t plan, but he’s already imagined what it’d be like to wake up next to you for the rest of his life.
❀ If you mention houses or kids or long-term anything, he doesn’t panic — he just says, “If it’s with you? Yeah.”
❀ He wants a life full of noise, heat, passion — and peace that only you bring.
❀ He’ll still be calling you “kid” when you’re 40 and he’s grey at the temples.
penta [ 40 & 22 / 18 year age gap ]
❀ Penta doesn’t say much when he realizes your age — he just nods once, slow and unreadable behind the mask.
❀ He doesn’t judge, doesn’t panic. But something shifts in the way he moves around you: quieter, more careful.
❀ The age gap doesn’t bother him in theory — it’s what it might mean in practice. Different life stages. Different needs.
❀ You challenge that fear without even trying. You match his fire with your own.
❀ It’s not your age that changes him — it’s your presence. You’re the first person who treats him like a man, not a myth.
❀ It’s unspoken for a while. Lingering touches. Heated glances. A stare that lasts just a few seconds too long.
❀ He tells you in Spanish first — soft, low, intimate: “Te amo.”
❀ You ask him to say it in English. He cups your face and says it like a vow: “I love you. That is real.”
❀ You kiss him. He exhales like it’s the first breath he’s taken in months.
❀ After that, he never hides it. Doesn’t downplay it. Doesn’t let the age difference become a wall between you.
❀ He’s a man of few words, but what he says matters.
❀ Conversations are layered — some in Spanish, some in English, some just eye contact that speaks louder than anything else.
❀ He tells you stories from lucha days, about loyalty, brotherhood, pain, pride.
❀ You talk about the future. About healing. About creating something powerful from something violent.
❀ You ask questions no one else dares to. He answers all of them — eventually.
❀ Acts of service. Fixes things before you notice they’re broken. Carries your bag. Adjusts your necklace clasp without you asking.
❀ Gift giving. You’ve got more skull-themed jewelry now than you know what to do with.
❀ Paints a mini version of his mask just for you, in your favorite colors.
❀ Holds your hand under the table. Always lingers behind after matches to find your eyes in the crowd.
❀ Doesn’t say “I need you” — he shows it in every motion, every glance, every still moment between chaos.
❀ No mask. Just Penta. Real name. Real voice. Real touch.
❀ You see his scars, both old and fresh. He doesn’t flinch when you trace them.
❀ You sleep wrapped in his arms — the only place he truly lets his guard down.
❀ He teaches you Spanish with lazy whispers and kisses between syllables.
❀ Once woke you up at 3AM just to say, “This… this is the peace I never thought I’d earn.”
❀ He doesn’t fear what people say. He fears the weight this life might put on you.
❀ Wonders if you’ll grow tired of the mask, the flights, the silence.
❀ Sometimes asks, “Are you sure?” even when you’ve already proved it a hundred times.
❀ He’s scared of loving too hard — of giving you all of him and still losing you to time.
❀ You never let the gap become a gap. You meet him in the middle, every time, no hesitation.
❀ He builds a future in quiet pieces — a home, a place for your shoes by the door, a shelf for your books.
❀ You talk about kids. He listens like the idea has never been spoken aloud to him before — and then he starts picturing it.
❀ Keeps your photo in his travel bag, tucked beside his mask. Always.
❀ Plans to retire in Mexico one day — and you’ll be there with him, sun on your skin, his last match behind him, peace ahead.
alexa bliss [ 33 & 21 / 12 year age gap ]
❀ Alexa didn’t flinch when she found out you were 21 — she just tilted her head and gave you that signature smirk.
❀ “Twenty-one?” she teased. “So you just stopped being jailbait, huh?”
❀ On the surface, she played it like she didn’t care — but deep down, she was nervous. Not about you, but about herself.
❀ Her life’s been fast, messy, glittery chaos. She worried it’d overwhelm you.
❀ But then you showed her you weren’t some wide-eyed kid — you were the only one who didn’t expect her to play a role.
❀ It started as harmless flirting — playful touches, eye rolls, Instagram comments that made people assume.
❀ One night after a match, when you helped her take off her boots and she saw how gentle your hands were, she just said it.
❀ “You know I love you, right?” Like it was obvious. Like it had always been true.
❀ You smiled. “Yeah. I know.”
❀ She kissed you with glitter still on her face and said, “I don’t want to pretend I don’t.”
❀ She talks fast when she’s excited, jumps topics like stepping stones — you never lose track.
❀ Late-night convos include trauma dumps between giggles, mental health check-ins, and debates about which horror movie villain is hot.
❀ You keep her grounded; she keeps you on your toes.
❀ She opens up in DMs and voice notes at 2am more than in person — but you always respond like it matters. Because it does.
❀ She’ll vent, then panic-text “Sorry, that was a lot.” You always reply “You’re not too much. Never.”
❀ Words of affirmation. She’s always hyping you up — “Look at you! You’re literally so hot I could punch a wall.”
❀ Touch. Constant clingers. Hand-holding, sitting in your lap, braiding your hair (or demanding you braid hers).
❀ Buys you cute matching gear, little keychains, and trinkets that “reminded me of us.”
❀ Posts the softest photos of you with captions like “my favorite distraction 💖”
❀ Hates PDA with anyone else — but with you? She’ll kiss you mid-promo if she feels like it.
❀ She’s a homebody more than people expect — curled up on the couch in fuzzy socks, watching horror movies with you and her pets.
❀ You’re the only one who sees her when the lashes come off, the glitter wipes away, and she just needs to cry.
❀ You once found her old diary from her early WWE days. She let you read it — then burned it together in the backyard.
❀ She loves lying on your chest, tracing your skin with her fingers like she’s memorizing the safe place she never had growing up.
❀ If you fall asleep first, she takes pictures of you. Not to post — just to keep.
❀ She’s insecure about the “former starlet” thing — worries you’ll want someone newer, shinier, less baggage.
❀ “You’re 21,” she whispered once. “You could have anyone. Why me?”
❀ She knows she can be intense — high highs, low lows, mood swings like a rollercoaster.
❀ You never make her feel like she has to shrink to be loved. That’s what scares her the most — that your love feels real.
❀ She’s terrified of being your phase. You prove every day that you’re not going anywhere.
❀ She never saw herself settling down. Then she met you.
❀ You talk about buying a weird little house with pink decor, a horror movie room, and a space for her ridiculous collection of Disney items.
❀ She jokes about eloping in Vegas in full cosplay. You joke back — but she’s halfway serious.
❀ She’d be a chaotic wife, an overprotective partner, and a damn good forever.
chelsea green [ 34 & 20 / 14 year age gap ]
❀ Chelsea didn’t act shocked when she found out your age — she just smirked, tilted her head, and went, “Aw, baby… you’re practically fresh out the cradle.”
❀ It wasn’t a dealbreaker, but it was a red flag in her mind — not because of you, but because she knows people, and she knows how they talk.
❀ “They’re gonna think I’m corrupting you,” she said with fake horror — while adjusting your lip gloss.
❀ But then you stood your ground, teased her right back, and she realized: you’re not fragile. You’re formidable.
❀ That’s when she stopped seeing the age gap as a risk… and started seeing it as her favorite scandal.
❀ It came out of nowhere, during one of her dramatic spirals over a broken heel and a late Uber.
❀ “I swear, I’m cursed, and I’m in love with the only person who’ll probably outgrow me in five years.”
❀ You blinked. She froze.
❀ “Wait—nope, too honest, don’t look at me.”
❀ You just kissed her and said, “You’re lucky I like crazy.” She’s never blushed that hard in her life.
❀ Endless voice notes. Chaotic FaceTime calls. Long, late-night texts that bounce between, “ugh I hate everyone” and “do you think I should dye my hair for us?”
❀ She opens up slowly, wrapped in sass and sarcasm, but you hear the hurt between the jokes.
❀ You remind her she doesn’t have to perform around you. Th
❀ She loves your opinions — about her outfits, her promos, what shade of pink you should match on nails.
❀ “You’re smarter than me,” she said once with no humor. “That’s hot. I hate it.”
❀ Gift giving. Custom jewelry, spa dates, and matching lingerie sets that she insists you model only for her.
❀ Physical affection. She clings. Always touching — hand-holding, back-of-the-neck kisses, lying across your lap while scrolling Instagram.
❀ She buys you things just to see them on you — hoodies, rings, sunglasses — all “borrowed” by her the next day.
❀ She’ll post you every chance she gets: mirror selfies, blurry candids, captioned “mine 💋” or “get you a girl who looks like this.”
❀ And when you’re quiet or distant, she knows. Instantly. She’ll crawl into your lap, pout, and go, “What’s wrong, baby?”
❀ She’s wild on TV, extra at brunch, but at home? Cozy pajamas, messy bun, barefaced and tucked under your arm.
❀ She hogs the bathroom and the blanket but will scream if you’re not touching her constantly.
❀ Sometimes she breaks down for no reason. You hold her, rub her back, and remind her she’s safe. That she’s not too much.
❀ You two cook terrible meals together, dance in socks, and prank each other with fake bugs.
❀ She once cried because you brought her flowers “for no reason.” You told her, “Because loving you isn’t hard.”
❀ She jokes about being your “older, unhinged sugar mommy” — but deep down, she fears not being enough.
❀ “You’ll wake up one day and realize you want someone calmer. Less… all this,” she says, gesturing to herself in glitter and chaos.
❀ She overthinks your quiet days. Gets nervous when you don’t answer quick.
❀ She’s terrified people will see her as a phase you went through in your twenties.
❀ You’ve said it more than once, loud and clear: “I don’t want safe. I want you.”
❀ She already calls you “wifey.” Half as a joke, half as a threat.
❀ Plans your life in Pinterest boards: wedding themes, tropical vacations, matching dog collars.
❀ She says she wants to grow old with you — but still be wearing 6-inch heels at 60 just to “keep it dramatic.”
❀ She’s ready to build a life of chaos, glitter, and forever. As long as it’s with you.
liv morgan [ 31 & 19 / 12 year age gap ]
❀ When Liv first realized you were 19, she blinked, laughed, and said, “You’re literally a baby… like, Gen Z-Z.”
❀ She wasn’t grossed out — but she was cautious. She’s been hurt, misread, underestimated.
❀ “I don’t want to be a lesson,” she told you honestly. “And I don’t wanna teach you anything either. I’m not trying to be your big heartbreak.”
❀ But then she saw how steady you were. How you didn’t idolize her, didn’t put her on a pedestal — you just got her.
❀ The age gap didn’t scare you, and that scared her more than she wanted to admit.
❀ Liv’s the type to accidentally say “I love you” when she’s drunk on cotton candy at the fair.
❀ She said it mid-laugh, cheeks flushed, your hand in hers, and then froze.
❀ “Oh my god, wait—was that too much?”
❀ You said it back without even blinking, and she pulled you in so fast she knocked the lemonade out of your other hand.
❀ After that, she’d say it in every way except straight up: “Drive safe, okay?” “I saved you the last bite.” “You make me feel like maybe the world doesn’t suck.”
❀ Chaotic, half-finished thoughts. Tangents. You fill in her blanks without her asking.
❀ She opens up about her childhood in weird moments — in drive-thrus, under blankets, when you’re painting her nails.
❀ “Sometimes I think I’m too much,” she says softly. You always say, “Not to me.”
❀ You ground her, and she energizes you. She loves that you listen, but also challenge her when she spirals.
❀ Her favorite thing? Your random compliments. She’ll write them in her notes app like little lifelines.
❀ Touch. All the time, everywhere. Holding your hand, leaning on you backstage, falling asleep literally on top of you.
❀ Words of affirmation. “You’re so hot it’s offensive.” “I’m obsessed with your dumb little face.”
❀ Sends you selfies with no caption just to see how fast you respond. Gets pouty if you take too long.
❀ Always matches her gear to something you’re wearing — it’s subtle sometimes, but it’s for you.
❀ You’re the lock screen. She pretends it’s no big deal. She stared at it for five minutes after setting it.
❀ She’s loud and soft all at once. A firecracker in your lap.
❀ Loves curling up with her head in your lap while you play with her hair and watch trashy reality shows.
❀ Leaves her clothes everywhere but gets mad if you misplace one of her earrings.
❀ Breaks down sometimes — too much attention, too much pressure, too many expectations — and you’re always there, arms open, no questions asked.
❀ She worries she’s stunting your growth — that you’ll look back and feel like she pulled you too fast into her chaos.
❀ “You should be out partying with college girls, not laying in bed with me watching conspiracy TikToks,” she mumbles.
❀ She’s insecure about being messy, emotional, dramatic — but you never flinch.
❀ Sometimes she worries she’s just your first — not your forever.
❀ But you tell her over and over, “I’m not here for the experience. I’m here for you.”
❀ She dreams big. Road trips. Matching tattoos. A farm in the hills with a dumb little white dog.
❀ You once said you weren’t sure where you’d be in five years — and she immediately said, “With me.”
❀ She talks about getting married in the woods, barefoot and wearing glitter.
❀ Liv is chaos, but you’re the thing she never wants to lose — her home, her person, her safe place.
scarlett [ 34 & 23 / 11 year age gap ]
❀ Scarlett clocked your age immediately. One look and she knew: young, fearless, probably trouble.
❀ She didn’t run — but she did keep you at arm’s length for a while. She’s had people fall in love with the fantasy of her, not the woman underneath.
❀ “You’re 23?” she said once, eyebrow raised, lips smirking. “Baby, I’ve got corsets older than you.”
❀ What she didn’t expect was how disarming you were — calm, grounded, yet just as intense in your own way.
❀ It wasn’t your youth that caught her. It was your clarity. The way you looked at her like she was real.
❀ It wasn’t planned. It never is with her.
❀ One night, after a match that left her furious and bruised, you found her backstage. Sat down. Said nothing. Just held her hand.
❀ “You don’t flinch,” she whispered. “Everyone flinches. But you don’t.”
❀ Then, under her breath, eyes on your fingers tangled with hers: “I think I’m falling for you.”
❀ You just leaned in and kissed her palm — no words, just presence. She’s been yours ever since.
❀ Sultry on the surface, deep underneath. She’ll start a sentence with a flirt and end it in vulnerability.
❀ She tells you things she’s never said aloud — what power costs, what loneliness feels like when the lights go down.
❀ You don’t talk over her. You listen. You ask real questions.
❀ “You don’t try to save me,” she said once. “You just see me. Do you know how rare that is?”
❀ Her voice is quiet with you. Almost reverent.
❀ Touch. She’s tactile — always adjusting your jacket, brushing lint off your shoulder, fingers under your chin to tilt your face toward her.
❀ Quality time. Candlelit rooms. Silk sheets. Wine glasses with lipstick on both rims.
❀ She buys you lingerie — for herself to unwrap.
❀ Always makes sure you’re looking at her when she walks into a room. She likes the way your gaze softens.
❀ Sends you little notes in your bag before flights: “I miss you already. Come back dangerous.”
❀ She’s softer than anyone would expect. Slippers instead of heels. Oversized robes instead of corsets.
❀ She rests her head on your chest, lets you brush her hair, lets herself breathe.
❀ She doesn’t need to be dominant around you. With you, she’s equal. Real.
❀ She’ll cook, burn it, swear, and order takeout — and you’ll both laugh till you cry.
❀ She has a playlist called “for her” — it’s all slow, sultry songs she imagines dancing to with you in low light.
❀ She’s terrified she’s just a chapter in your youth — a beautiful blur you’ll remember fondly but leave behind.
❀ “You’ll want simpler one day,” she murmured once. “And I’ll still be… me.”
❀ She doesn’t fear age. She fears being replaceable.
❀ You’ve had to remind her more than once: “I don’t want simple. I want you.”
❀ She believes you. Mostly. But she holds you a little tighter every time you say it.
❀ She sees forever with you, even if she pretends not to dream.
❀ “If we moved to Paris, I’d never wear pants again,” she jokes. Then she looks serious. “Would you come with me?”
❀ She wants passion, ambition, and a partner who matches her flame — and you do.
❀ Marriage? Maybe. Matching tattoos? Definitely. Growing old in black lace and eyeliner? Absolutely.
