#MJF x OFC

[allelitesmut]

Palate Cleanser

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

Ship: MJF x Actress!Childhood Friend!OFC

Rating: Explicit

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

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

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

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

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

“That too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess it has been a while.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, she was in trouble.

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“While drunk? Impressive.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Against all laws of the universe.”

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

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

“Excuse me?” Riley raised an exasperated brow.

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

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

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

“Now you’re just making this up.”

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

“Absolutely not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is not what I meant!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s what you always told me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I knew coming here was a mistake."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t be be serious.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They cancelled my show.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you’re on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You broke the nose off the school statue."

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

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

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

"Sorry, baby, that's showbiz."

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

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

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did - Molly McClannaugh!"

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

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

"I don't...uh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We hurt him!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Be serious.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I fuckin’ know it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But -"

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

"Not likely."

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

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh so you've been watching me for a while, then, huh? Didn't realize you were basically a groupie now."

"Only if you count as my groupie, too. Don't think I didn't pick up on you knowing exactly what happened in the episode where we fly to Gorkula. Are you a SpaceHead, Max?" She ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to keep back a grin, and Max gaped at her, brows knitting together.

"I don't appreciate being called a slur, Riley. Incredibly disrespectful that you would lump me in with the rest of your soap-phobic fan base." He dug his fingers into her and she squirmed with a breathless laugh. "Now get this pretty little ass in the shower before I hoist you over my shoulder and haul you in there myself."

She bit down on her lip, gearing up to tease him but stopped short at the sound of the doorknob jiggling. She tried to push herself up to sit but was stuck. When the door swung open, she smacked blindly at Max's back and he hurried to roll off of her.

"Surprise!" A petite girl, wrapped in a stylish but tight office dress, burst through the opened door and Riley snatched the blanket up to her chest, looking to Max, who had jumped to his feet.

"K-Kelsey?" He stammered, his skin suddenly excruciatingly hot, desperately clambering for a sheet to cover himself. "What are you doing here?"

Watching helplessly as Kelsey took in the scene before her, steam quickly beginning to billow out her ears, Max took a nervous step back. And understanding washed through Riley crystal clear, salt water flooding her veins, poisoned and sluggish, cementing her to her spot. She glanced back at 'Kelsey', shell shocked, and watched as she launched her purse directly at Max's head.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" She demanded, storming toward him, and Riley sat numbly as the woman smacked his chest. "I can't believe you!"

"Baby, please.." He held his hands up in front of him in defense but Kelsey kept swinging.

Riley jolted from her spot, taking the blanket with her as she backed up. She couldn't feel her skin anymore, a monstrous pit of nausea roiling in her gut. Baby. She was going to be sick.

"How could you do this to me? I came out here to surprise you after how shitty you said your day was yesterday and this..." Kelsey glanced back in Riley's direction and gave her a good look at the potent mix of anger and heartbreak on her face for just a second before she whirled back on Max. "You're unbelievable."

Max's gaze finally drifted back to Riley and she never wanted to disappear so badly in her life. She tore away from his gaze forcefully, skittering toward her dress that was laying on the floor by the door. Slipping away before his eyes.

"Kels, I'm sorry, I never meant-" He tried to defend but she stomped her heel hard into his foot. Riley shimmied into her dress on the other side of the room, fighting against the way her hands shook. "Fuck, can everybody just -" Holding his hands out as if he could still control this situation, Kelsey swatted them away.

"I'm going to go home, put your shit out on the curb, and change the lock. Go fuck yourself, Max." She snatched her purse off the floor by him before turning on her heel. Slowing to a stop when she caught sight of Riley by the door, she shook her head. "You can fucking keep him."

The door rattled shut behind her and plunged the room into a nuclear silence. Riley's eyes pinned to Max and the sting behind them finally made itself known, her chest aching so bad she thought it might cave in. She sucked in a breath, frozen to the ground.

"Riley, I can explain."

"Don't." She begged. "Please."

Sweeping up her purse from the couch, she backed toward the door and Max finally started after her.

"Please, stop, I know how this looks..."

"It looks like you have a live-in girlfriend, Max." She whirled on him with a devastated expression that she had tried so valiantly to control.

"Well...had, from the sounds of it." He mumbled but she glared daggers through him. Holding up his hands in a peace offering, he tried to get a step closer to her. "I'm sorry, I know. Fuck, I'm sorry."

"This was a mistake. I need to go." She tried to turn back toward the door but Max caught her hand. The shock it sent through her body knocked her off balance.

"Please don't go, Ry." He reeled her closer by the hand but she snatched it away from him. Darting around her, he stepped into her path toward the door. She tried to side step him but he kept in her way. "Please, I can't go back to life without you. I meant everything I said last night!" He pleaded and she sat back on her heel, stunned, the boiling guilt in her stomach turning over into simmering anger.

"Yeah, you meant it when you said you couldn't see yourself settling down with anyone but me?" Her entire body was trembling and she had stunned him into silence. "Looks like I was just never worth making the effort for. I mean, after all, I'm just a given, right." Her voice was cold as she tried to shoulder past him but he blocked her.

"C'mon, you're twisting my words!" He begged. "You know that's not what I meant. I am crazy about you, Riley, please, this doesn't change anything for me."

“It changes things for me.” She spat and he swayed back like she’d hit him. His pulse was threatening to spike him into the carpet. How had everything gone so wrong? “We make each other worse, Max. And I can’t do it anymore.” Finally managing to get past him, she made a break for the door.

Breezing through, she let it slam behind her, taking off as quickly as possible down the hallway, shoes be damned, she couldn't force herself to care. She picked up her pace at the sound of his door opening behind her, hustling toward the elevator. Maybe she was running away but she couldn't take any more, she needed to fly as many miles away from him as she could get and let her heart break in private.

"Riley!" He shouted after her, having slung his sweats on so quickly he nearly face planted. He couldn't let her get away, not this time, not when he knew he might never see her again if he let her slip away now. But she was jamming on the elevator button as if it would make it come faster, nervously glancing back. "Stop, Riley, come on!"

He didn’t take long to catch up to her, blocking the still-closed doors of the elevator with his body.

“Get out of the way.” She demanded, a hand on her hip.

“No. You can’t go like this. Not after last night.” His eyes pleaded with her, arms spread wide to barricade her path. Her gaze on him lingered but broke the second the elevator dinged above his head.

“Last night wasn’t real, Max.” She replied plainly as if it wasn’t another dagger through her chest. His shoulders slumped but he still didn’t move out of the open door. “Move.”

“Last night was as real as it gets, Riley, and you know it.” He insisted but she shook her head, eyes narrowed. “It was the most real night we’ve ever had.” The elevator doors attempted to close but he held them open forcefully.

“Well isn’t that sad for us?” She frowned, eyes drawn and dark, and Max’s arm fell. The sting behind her eyes was starting to eat away at her; she needed to get some distance now. She used the opportunity to slip past him, into the elevator.

“Riley, I need you…” He pleaded, but she clung to the back wall, just like she had the night before - she needed it now more than ever. Look at what a mess she made when she let herself off that tether.

“And I loved you." She confessed, sending his heart through his chest. " But I never want to see you again."

Max stumbled back a step, stricken, his eyes crawling over her, wide and desperate. The elevator slid closed between them and left them each in a suffocating silence, swallowing up all the oxygen around them.

Riley finally slumped down to the floor of the elevator, face falling in her hands. Her chest ached in a new and unbearable way that made her whole body shake. The pain radiated down to her toes, engulfing her.

Last night played on a loop in her mind. She was his, all his, every inch - that was what he said right? Her fingers traced delicately over the bruised skin he had left behind. All his. But never hers.

Her head fell back against the hard wall of the elevator, drawing in a shaky breath. Some palate cleanser, she thought bitterly. Eyes drifting shut, she wondered if every relationship she had ever been in hadn’t just been cleansing her palate of him.

But she wasn’t sure there was anything that could ever wipe this taste from her mouth. She had just decimated her palate all at once. Maybe that was for the best.

#MJF Smut #MJF fanfiction #MJF Fanfic #aew fic #wrestling fic #aew smut #aew fanfiction #MJF #MJF x OFC

[majesticwren]

fallingforyou (MJF x OFC)

following this post this concept is now a fic, sorry not sorry. I'm struggling trust me. (help me)

Trigger Warning/s: slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, depiction of toxic relationships, intimacy and commitment problems, childhood traumas, jealousy, possessiveness, hints of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, hints of anti-semitism, everyone is a walking red flag, angst, fluff, smut.

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Chapter 2.

Ten Years Ago

Stella was dancing to one of Ke$ha's songs, enjoying having a night like any other teenager. It was part of her prerogatives: enjoy the party like any seventeen-year-old, get drunk and forget about her life.

She wasn't even supposed to be out but escaping from her house right under her parents' noses was the easiest thing in the world. Sometimes she wondered if they even cared at all or if they purposely made it easy for her. Maybe they just didn't like her to be around. Not when they could focus all their attention and affection on their golden child, her sister. Why waste energy on the black sheep of the family?

Fuck them, she thought. Fuck them all. She wouldn't have wasted time in that town for long anyway.

Only that thought made her giggle. And then she giggled some more realising that the alcohol was finally making her feel silly and light, as if she was floating above her problems. It was also making her feel dizzy and slightly nauseous, but that was part of the game.

She stumbled on her own feet as she danced and losing balance made her stop, as she was suddenly aware of being extremely uncoordinated. The booze was definitely going to her head quickly. Maybe that was the risk everyone always talked about.

As she tried to focus on her surroundings, Stella spotted an opened window in the back of the room facing the back garden. Nice, she thought, maybe she needed some air. Another giggle escaped her mouth.

Only when she stepped out of the crowded house, did she realise how hot and unbreathable the air was in that concentrated room. She welcomed the crispy cold air with a twirl.

The partying was starting to take a toll on her. Or it could be the alcohol. Most definitely it was the alcohol. Either way, her feet were hurting in her uncomfortable high heels and her ears pounded with the echo of the loud music playing. One problem was easily taken care of since outside the music wasn’t so loud, whereas for the first, well, that was as easy as kicking her damn shoes off. Stella left them behind, enjoying the tickle of the wet grass on the sole of her feet. The ground felt solid, cold and so pleasant it made her want to breathe in the world.

She stumbled across the empty garden and almost tripped over a couple of times, not entirely able to focus very well in her scarcely lit surroundings as if the shots of tequila she downed like water didn't have anything to do with it. She giggled to herself, somehow finding that thought funny.

Stella found an empty sunbed by the pool and dropped heavily on it. She wondered briefly if the pool was still accessible but quickly reminded herself it was almost November. It couldn't be.

Stella raised her eyes into the night sky. A placid smile crossed her lips.

The stars were pretty.

She didn't even feel the cold seeping under her skin. She quite liked it actually.

Another giggle left her chest.

"Be careful not to fall in the water."

She gasped and sat up straight, feeling like she was just caught doing something wrong. “What?”

“The water. Must be cold.”

Focusing on the person’s shape stepping closer to her, it took her only a second longer to recognise him. A warm smile quickly spread on her lips. “Max!” She welcomed him gladly, raising a hand to him. As soon as the boy slid his fingers across her palm softly, Stella giggled and gave him a pull, just because she wanted to have him closer. “Come here,”

Max sat on the sunbed by her legs, not opposing her wish and not letting go of her hand. It was easy to forget how a direct contact like that made her feel. Her heart was fluttering, and adrenaline roared through her veins, igniting her nerves. His skin was always so warm sometimes it was impossible for her to stay away.

It must have been the booze though, surely.

“Give me your other hand,” he suggested softly, and Stella didn’t refuse him, doing what he asked without even thinking. He kept her hands safe, caging both in between his large palms. “Your hands are cold,” he began, raising their tangle of fingers to his mouth only to blow some warm air on her skin.

She giggled at the sensation, shaking her head. “Not anymore, silly.”

Max’s eyes slid across her body. “I don’t know how you manage to bear these temperatures in that minidress.”

“It is not that cold.”

“Stella, where are your shoes?”

She vaguely pointed to the door she came out of, not even bothering to make sure she mumbled the right words. She was all smiles and giggles the moment she caught Max looking at her, “This is a good little dress,”

“I’m sure it is.” His eyes floated on the high cut of her tight skirt, which Stella didn’t miss, even with her senses being blurry. She followed his eyes with her hands only to play with the helm of her skirt. Her decency was blurry too. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” his eyes shot back on her face, “me and about the entire school football team. The swimmers’ team. I suspect even the chess squad.”

Stella chuckled, giving him a soft push. “Stop it. Don’t tell me you are jealous.”

“I am.” Max leaned in, getting so close to her face that Stella thought he would kiss her. For only a moment she let herself hope for it to happen. How would have it felt to finally feel his lips? But that thought came and went as soon as she realised he was only being his usual, sarcastic self. “Everyone knows you are my girl.”

Her heart creaked but Stella had to compliment herself, she wasn’t showing any of her heartbreak even despite being tipsy.

She was his girl. But she wasn’t allowed to be his girl in the way she wanted to be. In a way that it was forbidden for her to wish to be. They did everything together and she was the guardian of his deepest secrets, fears, and confidences. But his girlfriend was someone else.

Her problems didn’t stop there though. Being his girl meant that all the boys in high school wouldn’t dare to get close to her. She hadn’t been on a real date with kids her age yet. Her parents had tried to set her up a couple of times, but she wouldn’t even consider those older men they tried to hook her up with. Those didn’t count.

“I am not your girl,” Stella giggled tapping her index on his nose, “you have a girlfriend, and she is inside.”

Max rolled his eyes and then he slipped out of his football jacket carrying the colours and crest of their high school, placing it over her legs. Just then, feeling the warmth trapped in the heavy material of his jacket touch her exposed legs, Stella had to admit she was, in fact, cold. She wouldn’t have said that out loud though. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“You are drunk.” He stated. He was serious but not angry or judgmental. But then again, Stella wouldn’t care in the slightest if he was. She lowered herself back to lay on the sunbed, slipping a hand off his hold just to hint with index and thumb that she was, in fact, a little drunk. The giggle that followed gave it away more than her signals though.

“I should take you home.”

“No, no,” she whined tugging at him to get closer, “I don’t want to go home just yet.”

“But it would be the responsible thing to do.”

Stella pouted and instead of paying attention to his words, she tried to get a grip on his t-shirt, just so she could pull him closer. Suddenly she was eager to feel his warmth, greedy to have him as close as she could.

Max gave in with a sigh, “Scootch over,” Stella happily did, leaving him some space to lay next to her and then she was happy to snuggle on his chest. Max welcomed her with no objection, and then they both lay there, looking at the stars. “Only five minutes, ok? Then we are going home.”

“I don’t want to go home. I don’t like it there.”

“Who said I’m taking you back to yours?” Max smirked, “You are coming home with me and then tomorrow morning you can convince my mother to make pancakes. She loves you too much to say no to you.”

“Deal,”

He chuckled in response distractedly ending up playing with a lock of her hair. Her head was spinning but she wasn't sure anymore it was only the booze. She liked being between Max's arms, but that was a secret she wouldn't allow herself to feel when she was sober. Another giggle escaped her lips.

“Wouldn’t your girlfriend hate you if you left the party earlier?” She was still grinning, nuzzling on his chest, as if she had something to prove.

“No more than how much she would hate seeing I’m with you.”

“Oh, yeah, right. We aren’t supposed to be talking, are we?”

“No.”

A sad sigh left her chest. She may have been drunk, but she knew what it meant to almost lose him for good. All thanks to his jealous, possessive, stupid, pretty girlfriend who couldn’t take the idea of him spending time with his best friend. Not that Stella could entirely say her worries weren’t justified, but it was still annoying.

“Why?” She wondered, her question dropping right out of her thoughts. Stella pinned herself up just enough to look at him in the eyes, falling right through those warm, brown irises.

“Why what?”

“Why can’t we just ignore all these stupid rules? It’s me and you after all. I don’t want to let boyfriends or girlfriends get in the middle of us.”

“I think it’s inevitable.”

“But why? Can’t we decide how we want it to work for us?”

“I suppose.”

She laid back down, nuzzling into his chest. “Me and you are more important.”

“Yes,” he hugged her and softly kissed her forehead, “I agree.”

“Promise me,” she mumbled against his chest.

“What?”

“Promise me no one will get between us.” She looked back up at him, “No girlfriends or boyfriends, no family or friends, no husbands nor wives, jobs or lives.”

Max smiled softly, “I pinkie promise.”

Present Day

“It’s going to be fine; I am sure of it.”

“Mh. I am not so sure. Plus, I really don’t want to go.” She pulled a pout, squeezing herself into the car seat.

Stella held her phone to her chest, hugging it like she wished she could have done with the man on the other side of the line. Hiding between Maxwell’s arms would have been much nicer than the cold, empty alternative.

“Sit there and whine about it won’t make it go away, babe.”

“Thanks, Friedman, that’s exactly the motivation I needed.”

“Sorry,” Max’s hoarse giggle spread from the phone straight under her skin and to her stomach. It was a sound extremely familiar and generally encouraging. Though now she fought against its calming effects. “I thought you wanted to see your sister,” he continued.

“I do.” Stella paused sighing, “It’s her stupid friends I don’t want to see.”

“Ah, fuck them. They are just envious; you know how it is.”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well,” she briefly fiddled with the edge of her long scarf, “I don’t like them, and they sure don’t like me. Did I tell you about how ancient they made me feel the last time I had to go to one of these things? I couldn’t understand half of the words they used.”

“Yes, you mentioned it bestie.”

Stella ignored the way Max’s voice suddenly ended up being a higher pitch, as he mocked the younger generations' lingo. She knew he was trying to lift the spirits but the only thing she could think about was how she dreaded the idea of having to spend the afternoon surrounded by a small hoard of twenty-year-old bridesmaids assisting an extremely young bride-to-be to her dress fitting.

“And let’s hope my sister didn’t invite Mother to come along again. The way that woman can always manage to make me feel a complete failure without even trying very hard. The way she looks down on me it’s enough.” Stella rolled her eyes, “So, Stella,” she started mocking things that had been said to her on previous occasions pushing out a lower-pitched voice pretending to be as posh as possible, “how does it feel to watch your younger sister getting married before you? You know what they say, the clock is ticking.”

Max huffed on the other side of the phone. “And I suppose the fact that you have a degree, a career, sit on a fat pile of money and figured it all out on your own, differently from them who has daddy’s money, doesn’t count?”

“Oh, Friedman, what are you even talking about? What’s a career compared to being a trophy wife staying at home mum shooting out babies?”

“You’d be a lovely trophy wife.”

“I am smacking your shmuck face, Maxwell.”

He giggled again. “Fine, c’mon, what else? Get it out of your system now so then you can wear your big-girl pants and go do your maid of honour job.”

Stella immediately switched back to her twenty-years-old persona “Oh, is that your dress for the ceremony? You should get your season palette checked out.”

“What the fuck is a season palette?”

“Uh,” Stella leaned against the side of the door, sighing. Her day wasn't even halfway done, and she already felt exhausted. “There’s a theory for which certain colours fit your skin complexion more than others. So, it was a complicated way to say my dress is shit.”

“I’ve seen you in your dress, you are hot, forget them.”

“Just do me a favour, shoot me?”

“Sorry, can’t do that. I can try to get you out of it earlier if you like though?”

“No. Please, don’t worry. Don’t you have that thing shortly?”

“What? The interview? Please, I am MJF after all, I can make them wait if you want me to.”

“No, I don’t want you to. How about we all put our big pants on and go do this thing?”

“Fine, put the phone down then.”

“You put the phone down.”

They both just waited silently for a few minutes and as Stella listened to Maxwell's silence on the other line, a small smile grew on her lips.

“See? You can’t get enough of me.” He laughed.

“Shut up, Mr thing, I just don’t like hanging up.”

“Sure.” Stella just knew he was smiling in that extreme way that made his cheeks blush slightly. “Are you gonna watch me tonight?”

“Of course! I’d never miss it.” Her heart fluttered only thinking about it. But then a shadow covered her heart. “Greg will have to deal with it.”

Stella could have told Max about the accident in the park. He knew everything about her life after all, and yet her tongue was tied.

Greg’s voice still echoed in her ears. She heard it repeatedly. “You little whore”. It burned in her pride and made her blood bubble up violently, but at the same time, it just switched her off completely.

Max didn’t need to know such a thing. She knew him well enough by then to know he would have gone ballistic for something like that. Men that had disrespected her in the past had regretted it and she didn’t want that to happen between him a Greg. Not because she cared about Greg, but because she needed him around. And she also knew what advice Max would have given her. Advice she needed to remain deaf to, at least for now.

“Greg can suck my fat cock if he doesn’t agree with it.”

“Maxwell!”

“What? How does it happen that you date a guy that doesn’t like wrestling?”

“He doesn’t like you.”

“Same thing.”

Stella chuckled but before she could reply to Max, a knock on the window distracted her. She gasped, looking over. “Hold on,” she told Max as she lowered the automatic window to her sister’s friendly face.

Jenna was always full of smiles. She was a creature made of sweetness and everything good. No emotion could ever be hidden on her face and at that specific moment, she was glowing, as happy as ever. After all, that’s how a bride should look like a week before her wedding.

Stella would have died for her sister. She was grateful to be so close to her. Jenna was about the only member of her family that she kept in touch with and would have never pushed away. Stella was so proud of the woman she had become and all of her choices; and she liked her future husband enough to have never opposed the idea of her sister getting married at only twenty-one, despite how harsh her opinions on the matter might be.

“Hey, stranger!” Jenna chirped, offering the widest of smiles as she hooked her hands on the car window, “What are you doing? We have been waiting for you!”

“Tell me that we don’t include Mother and I’ll come without opposing.”

“You are in luck, she was kept.”

“Oh, thanks fuck,” Stella praised, causing her sister to giggle.

“What were you doing?”

“Sorry, sis. I was on the phone with Maxwell I hadn’t noticed the time.” It wasn’t true. She had noticed the time just as much as she had seen the group of bridesmaids gathering by the shop doors, but she had chosen to cosy up in her car and pretend to be late.

“Oh? Max? Is he still on the line? Hi Max!” 

“You are on speaker,” Stella suggested leaning closer to her phone.

“Oh, well then, hi Jenna! How are you?”

“Good, thank you, what about you?”

“Ah, you know, great but always busy.”

“Yeah, Stella mentioned these are busy weeks for you. Don’t overdo it and make sure you look after yourself!”

“I will do.”

“Oh, alright then.” She giggled not even trying to hide the blushing on her cheeks. “Next time you are in town you must drop by; I would love to see you.”

“Uh,” Max released a soft huff, “I will try my best but if not, I’m definitely looking forward to seeing you Friday.”

Stella froze and squeezed her phone against her chest as if she could stop Max from talking forward, but by that point, it was too late, Jenna was already freaking out.

“Oh, my God, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Oh. My. God!”

“Stella didn’t mention?”

“No,” Stella cut through their talks glaring dangerously at her phone screen just as she would if Max stood in front of her. “I hadn’t mentioned, bye Friedman.”

She coldly hung up not giving him the space to reply in any way. She knew it was harsh and her chest ached thinking about it, but she also knew she had to find a way to survive her sister’s hectic behaviour. She would have fixed things with Max later.

As soon as Stella slipped out of her car, her sister was by her side giggling and jumping around like crazy. “Why wouldn’t you tell me? Oh my god, I can’t believe it! Oh, I must tell John immediately.”

“Jenna, calm down.”

“I can’t calm down! Max is coming to the bachelorette party!”

“Only dropping by for a quick drink.”

Stella ignored her ecstatic squeaks to briefly check her phone as they walked to the shop.

She ignored the ten pressing messages Greg left on their chat, knowing she didn’t have the time or patience to pay attention to him.

They were supposed to meet that night for a dinner date since she had been so busy for the past week, but after what happened earlier that day she was tempted to cancel. He did call her a whore after all, she was supposed to be infuriated. Instead, Stella chose not to care. It could have gone either way and she would have survived. She went through enough breakups by then to know the drill. The only reason why she was keeping up with that prick was her personal vendetta at the wedding.

Fucking despicable even for her.

Instead of paying attention to Greg, she opened the just-arrived message Max sent. “Sorry kitten x”. A soft smile grew on her lips, and she quickly proceeded to type back. “You certainly aren’t. Good luck today, call me later? x”

“So, is he coming to the wedding as your plus one or-”

“Who’s the plus one?” By then they were close enough to the shop and the other bridesmaids had flocked by their side, picking at their conversation.

Feeling exposed, Stella rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “No one.” She turned towards Jenna, forcing her to stop on her feet. “Greg is my plus one for the weekend. Max is coming only to the ceremony because you invited him.” Somehow it was fundamental she specified that.

“I thought he would be busy with work next week.”

“Yeah, he was. There had been a last-minute change in the roster, so he now has the weekend off.”

“Why?”

“His partner got injured.”

“Not Adam!”

“I’m afraid so,” Stella shrugged, shaking her head, “he’s fine though, I promise.”

“Who are you talking about?” Wondered one of the three girls surrounding them.

All three of them were extremely beautiful girls, unafraid of showing it off, and so it was for their wealth and privilege. They were the kind of girls who would have a twice-weekly appointment with a beautician, keeping their nails, lashes, and make-up always in check. Trips to the hair salon happened on a regular basis, just as it would be with being treated at the SPA. They were slim as ever, wearing the latest trend style of clothing and fancy stylists' names, showing off how they were part of that inaccessible world made of big money, massive mansions and expensive cars.

A world so cruel and so cold Stella could only hope they would realise it before it was too late.

Stella hated the person she would become standing close to them. They were everything her family had once wished her to become. They were a reflection of the woman she was supposed to grow into. Therefore, she hated them with every fibre of her being. It wasn’t their fault. But looking at them triggered a hidden part inside of her, made of all the emotional trauma she had to survive ever since she was a child.

Rebelling to her parents' wishes and daring to find her own way had caused a fracture in her family. It was the reason why she wasn’t ever invited to family events. Her father hadn’t spoken to her once in ten years. There were no pictures of her around her parents’ house. Most people didn’t even know that there were two daughters as heiresses to their family empire. And the ones who knew also knew never to ask about their older daughter.

The only person that Stella didn’t condemn was Jenna. She managed to follow in her footsteps just enough to develop her own personality, but she didn’t rebel against her parents’ rules as much as Stella did. In a way, Jenna also got out, in the end. She was lucky enough to desperately fall in love with a decent man who respected her and who was wealthy enough to be accepted by her family.

Stella hadn’t been that lucky – but also, she didn’t want it any other way. It was history. She made it out. And she didn’t want anything to do with them. After spending the good part of the past ten years studying psychology at college and criminal law at Stanford, she was hired by one of the most prestigious firms in New York City. She had her own empire to look after now.

Not bad. She had often to remind herself her worth was self-made and that she deserved to walk around with pride.

That was her sad, pitiful story. If one wanted to dig into her intimacy issues, probably the way she was brought up and what she went through was the root of it all. But, at the same time, it wasn’t that deep or farfetched.

Being distracted a second, Stella didn’t have the time to hint to her sister to shut up that Jenna was already chattering away. “You know how Stella and I are friends with that big-shot wrestler I told you about?”

“Oh, yes! What’s his name again?” Said one.

“Urgh, wrestling is for losers,” added another, to which Stella promptly sent a dangerous glare.

“No, I think wrestling is hot! Most wrestlers are hot anyways with all those muscles,” said the last one, receiving an equally dangerous look from Stella.

She didn’t know if she rathered them thinking Max was hot or a loser. Either way, she rather them not think about him at all.

“His name is MJF, and wrestling is definitely hot, we grew up with it,” Jenna sent Stella a cheeky look, “did you know my sister trained for years too? She used to be a wrestler.”

“That was a long time ago, Jen.” It was a reminder both for her sister and for herself.

It had been almost ten years since that time. Since her almost-debut. And there hadn’t been a day that went by that she didn’t miss it desperately.

It was weird, she didn’t miss the drunken crowd or the small victories in the minor events she would get to wrestle. She missed the small things. Like how the squared circle of that place smelled like piss. Or the bruises. Or how the small gym smelled like burned tobacco because their first trainer was a bitter man who saw his career come to a stop because of a bad injury, and who was unable to be anything without a lit cigarette in his fingers.

Stella was quick to push aside those thoughts before guilt and regrets would take over and clutch at her chest.

It didn’t matter anyway. The other three weren’t listening to them, they were all looking at a shared phone screen, making gasping noises.

“Oh my god, your friend is hot!”

“Wouldn’t mind getting a piece of this loser.” Mumbled the same one who disliked wrestling.

“What did I say about wrestling being hot? Look at his muscles!”

All three giggled to each other.

“I just know I am ready to become such a slut next weekend,”

“Is he tall? He looks tall.”

Stella rolled her eyes, grumbling loudly. She didn’t like them talking that way about Max. Not because she was in any way prude or didn’t get exactly what they were on about, but because she was beyond protective with him. She was possessive. Even when she didn’t have any reason to be. Or right. “Are you all quite done? Can we go do what we came here to do?”

“Oh, fuck, what is it? Uncovered nerve or something?”

“I am just busy and on a schedule. Sorry to burst your bubble ladies, I need to be back in Manhattan by six tonight.”

“You aren’t staying for dinner with us?”

And get to witness how a normal evening went between a healthy, happy couple? She was ready to opt out without even thinking about it. Even when it was her little sister looking at her with her doe eyes. “Sorry sis, I’ve got plans with Greg.”

“Oh, ok, fair enough.” Then she leaned closer to her friends, “Girls, by the way, Max is out of bounds to all of you, alright?”

“What!? No way!”

One of them even stepped closer and posed. “Look at me, I am young and beautiful. I totally have a chance.”

“What? Ugh, I said no. I grew up with the guy.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you are related or anything.”

“What the bride says goes. And I said no, this is a rule, you guys stay away from Max.”

“But-”

“Ah-ah,” Jenna shook her head raising a finger into the unhappy faces of all her closest friends, “my word is law for the next seven days or so.”

It wasn’t just a friendly warning like any “my best friends are not allowed to date my big brother” kinda thing. It was a clear waving of all sorts of flags so they all would know that Maxwell was simply off limits. Or, at least, that’s how Stella perceived it.

No one questioned Jenna, even if Stella was ready to bet a leg they weren’t to be trusted. More than that, though, she wanted to make sure no one would have suspected what Jenna had said was actually aimed towards Stella’s best interest. None of the girls surrounding them seemed to catch what hid between the lines of her sister’s words though. But it was more than enough for Stella not to miss it.

Maxwell was off limits for anyone but Stella herself. And, at the same time, ironically, they were something that could never be.

She was so used to that thought to be able to ignore completely the ache carving deeply through her chest. Stella longed for something she had forbidden herself to desire or love for so long that she managed to become immune to it. Or at least, pretending that was the case came very easy.

“C’mon guys,” Stella started, hinting at the door, “why don’t we get this thing started? Let’s order a bottle of champagne as we enjoy my sister giving us a runway show, my treat.”

All the girls ecstatically howled, finally getting back on track and on with the plan.

Stella sat on a small booth in the corner of the spacious changing room. From the other side of the thick curtain, she could hear her sister’s friends giggling away as they waited to be shown Jenna's dresses drinking champagne, whereas she had the privilege of the exclusive.

"So," Jenna started hopping out of her clothes. "How’s things?” She distractedly stood in front of the mirror, checking herself out in her white lingerie, before starting to fix her hair. “We never get the chance to chat now you’re a big shot criminal lawyer!”

Stella didn’t miss the look her sister sent her through the mirror. She knew her sister didn’t mean it that way, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty. Had she been absent or distant? She sure hoped not.

"There's not much to say, you know? My life is pretty boring."

Jenna chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "You live in the Upper West Side and are basically a millionaire.”

Stella huffed, “I am not a millionaire,”

Jenna ignored her completely, “The other week you posted a story about casually being at a Valentino runway afterparty. And before then it was what? Some exclusive Broadway premiere? And your best friend is one of the most acclaimed wrestlers in the world." She paused briefly, a smile curling her lips, "You know what was the top of my week? Today is the top of my week. Tell me again how boring your life is?"

“Today is a pretty special day!” Stella tried her best to appear as convincing as she could even though she knew exactly what her sister was trying to say. “Some would say you’re going to take the most important decision of your life in this room.”

Jenna’s silence and the look she sent Stella through the mirror were enough of an answer. “C’mon sis, give me something! Tell me how exciting New York is!” She was changing over her earnings to a pair made of pearls and fine diamonds that matched the pins keeping her hair up. Stella assumed that was the look she would have had for the ceremony next Saturday.

A soft smile popped on Stella’s lips. “OK, first of all, I need you to know all those things you listed do not happen to me naturally. In a hundred per cent of the cases, if something out of the ordinary happens, it’s Max creating situations.” The silent look Jenna sent her through the mirror, accompanied by a little smartass smirk, was unbearable. It slid right under her skin and made her feel seen. She wasn’t stupid, she knew exactly what her sister was thinking.

Maxwell and she weren’t dating. Never had. And yet they were so used to going out together and seeing each other all the time. It wasn’t news how Max liked to spoil her either with things or experiences, more than he would do with a partner. Out of the ordinary for people who were supposed to be only friends. It had been the particular reason for a fracture in many relationships both Max and her had. But that’s just how things were between them and never once they considered their behaviour wrong. It was everyone else around them who had a problem with it being wrong.

And still, even when all was so obvious and she was fighting to make it seem as normal as possible, Stella still felt so uncomfortable she needed to change position on her booth and hide behind her champagne flute. “And anyways,” Stella cleared her voice doing her best to deflect the attention, “New York is only an hour away it’s not like you never go.”

“Oh? So, I shall come visit next week.” Jenna’s usual bubbly energy washed over her. She smiled to herself in the mirror, nodding like her decision had been already taken.

“What? Before Thursday?”

“Yeah!”

“Thursday the day we are all going to meet up for a long weekend of activities and celebrations for your wedding.” Stella was sarcastically pretending to be extremely ecstatic about it all.

Only thinking about spending three-something full days in Plainview, in direct contact with her family made her want to puke. Though Stella couldn’t back off. She would have never left her sister alone among those people.

She didn’t even want to know how much her sister had to fight against their parents to get Stella invited, which was exactly the reason why she would have never said no. Even for stupid stuff like the Thursday morning meeting brunch, or the Friday afternoon tea for the ladies and golf session for the boys.

Still, worth it to make her sister happy.

“Yes!” Jenna repeated chuckling.

“And then we are going to the big city for your bachelorette party on Friday night, right?” Stella pointed at her ironically as the two exchanged a look through the mirror.

“Yeah, dummy,” Jenna threw her arms to her sides, “what if I want to see you alone before I get married?”

“Ok, fine!” Stella gave up, “just tell me when you are free, and we’ll organise a dinner date or something.”

“You tell me! You are the busy one,”

“Right,” Stella pretended to look at her phone pushing out a posh tone, “my secretary will get back to you.” They both giggled.

Once Jenna had done fixing herself, she approached the curtain, hiding behind the corner. “I’m ready,” she hinted to the outside, to which point a woman entered the changing room carrying a rack full of filled-up dresscases.

“Hello to you darlings,” she didn’t sound from those parts. Her accent was still warm and charming. “My name is Sophia and I’ll be helping you today.”

Stella welcomed her with a polite smile, as they both watched her placing the dresses in the back of the room and then proceed to close the curtain.

“So,” she turned towards Jenna with a big smile on her red-tinted lips, “are you ready to see them?”

Jenna squeaked and nodded, barely containing her excitement and then they proceeded to start the fitting session.

“Ok, let’s continue our chat,” Jenna started while Sophia helped her get into the first dress, which was a typical princess-like dress with a wide skirt and a tighter corset that had about a thousand buttons on the back. “You don’t mind, right, if we talk? I never get to see my sister,” she wondered looking back at Sophia.

“Not at all, miss. You pretend I’m not here.”

Jenna smiled proudly, looking back at Stella. “Tell me about this new boy you’ve been seeing.”

“Ah, Greg,” the unenthusiastic sigh that left her chest should have been enough of a hint to what she thought about him.

You little whore. Those words still echoed in her ears, both making her blood roar and letting her feel more detached than ever.

She hadn’t fought him as much as he deserved for what he had said. Not only that. He deserved to be annihilated and surely didn’t deserve to receive any of her attention further on. But Stella brushed it off like it was nothing.

Come Sunday evening, just after her sister's wedding, Greg would have become nobody to her. She just needed to hold on until then.

Was it pathetic for her to think she rather have spent that absurdly long weekend next to a man she despised, than doing it alone?

“He’s ok I guess; you know? We are still very new.”

“What?” Jenna dropped her arms, sending her sister an inquisitive look, “Stella! Where are the fireworks and butterflies? That is not a suitable reaction! I don’t want to know this new guy you are seeing makes you feel so miserable!”

“What!? It’s not like that! I’m just getting used to things.”

“You should be over the moon already, boo.” Jenna started and the way she studied her sister’s features made Stella feel so uncomfortable in her own skin. “If that’s not the case why losing time?”

Stella choked.

She had decided. Why would she lose any time anymore? After Greg, she would have stayed on her own. To recover. To maybe put her priorities in order. To maybe get a long-ass vacation away from everyone and anyone. Maybe even Max.

She shrugged. “It is what it is. He’s a good guy.” She lied, only because she couldn’t phantom anything else to say that would explain why she decided to stay with a man that made her feel nothing.

“What does Max think about the guy, then?”

As soon as his name was mentioned a smile curled on Stella’s lips even before she could think about it. And Jenna didn’t miss it either. “He doesn’t like him,” Stella chuckled, shaking her head, “But then again, he never does.”

“There!” Jenna pointed at her, “That sweetness and warmth, the way your eyes tenderly moved away as you thought about Max, that should be how you feel for Greg!”

Stella knew Jenna didn’t mean to be judgmental. And probably wasn’t. But she still felt like she was completely exposed and had to justify herself. She felt like she had to pull her big lawyer pants and defend herself in front of the toughest jury ever.

Instead, only a tired sigh left her chest, “Jenna don’t start.”

“Why? Am I wrong? When are you two going to-”

“I said don’t start.” Stella shot her sister with a dangerous look. She didn’t want to be harsh but was too tired to deal with anything her sister had to say. “I don’t need your opinion on this, OK? I am with Greg. He’s going to be with me at the wedding and we are all going to be very happy. Understood?”

“I just don’t get why you would sabotage your own happiness,” Jenna ignored Stella’s warning look, “You clearly don’t like this Greg guy. Not as much as you like Max anyways.”

Stella downed her champagne, looking away. “Max and I are friends.”

“Sure you are.”

“Please, Jenna, I am asking you nicely, drop it, ok?”

The longer Jenna looked at her in the eye, trying to find the answer to her words into her eyes, the more Stella felt the need to put distance between them.

Running away from that entire conversation seemed so sweet. Maybe she could have run away from her life entirely. Maybe then questions and assumptions and all the reasons why her life was unfulfilled would have stopped getting her.

Sophia tapped on Jenna’s shoulder softly, “You are ready to go miss,” the woman pointed at the mirror so that Jenna could look at herself.

Just then, Stella's attention dropped on her dress.

She forgot about their conversation as soon as she realised her sister was, in fact, getting married. She wasn't a kid anymore.

A tender smile appeared on Stella's lips as she got up and walked closer to Jenna. "You look stunning,"

Jenna looked at herself in the mirror, running her hands on the big skirt of her dress, smiling at Stella through the reflection. "This was my favourite last time. It just needed to be fitted."

"I think you look gorgeous in it."

Jenna smiled and then rolled an arm around Stella, dragging her into a small hug. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

Stella leaned her head on her sister's shoulder, sighing. "I know. I wish you were wrong." Sadness clutched over her chest, but Stella was quick to silence it coldly. She could have pretended everything was fine and Jenna was, in fact, wrong, for a bit longer.

Max didn't make her happy. Not that way. She didn't need him. Everything was fine as it was.

"But please, let's not talk about it anymore."

"Ok,"

Stella looked up and they both smiled at each other, holding hands.

If there was someone she couldn't lie to, it was Jenna. She had grown to see how close she always was with Max, and it wasn't the first time such a conversation had popped up. But that didn't mean that Stella was ready to face any of it. Not now nor ever.

“Now, let’s show this dress to your girls.” Stella smiled, “They are going to lose their shit I tell you.”

Before anything could be done, Jenna pulled her in a hug. At first, Stella felt uncomfortable, hoping not to rumple her sister’s dress, but she only needed a second to relax against Jenna and hug her back with more intent.

And then their moment was shattered.

The curtain was abruptly opened as someone invaded the space in the fitting room.

“Ma’am,” Sophia moved immediately, trying to stop the invader. “This changing room is taken, ma’am, perhaps I could redirect you,”

“Please,” the woman who entered the changing room raised a hand into Sophia’s face with pure disdain. No care or politeness was offered. “I am her mother.”

Hers. Not theirs.

Before anyone could say anything, Jenna automatically moved in front of Stella, trying to deflect the attention. “Mom, I thought you wouldn’t be able to make it today!”

“Why? Disappointed?” The disgusted look she sent in response wasn’t directed to Jenna, obviously. “And you, shame you made it.”

The smile Stella reserved for her mother was detached. “Same to you, mother.” Calling that wasn’t at all out of affection. It wasn’t even because the woman standing in front of her was the one who gave birth to her. Stella did it out of spite knowing her mother hated her to call her in a way that would make them appear related.

The woman twitched. “You didn’t have anything better to do?”

“I wouldn’t have missed this moment for the world.”

“We’ll see,” She whipped out a sharp, cruel smile. Her mother's soft threat sounded as poisonous as ever.

If Stella had to endure being scrutinised under her mother’s cold gaze a minute longer, she felt like she would have screamed. She felt uncomfortable under her own skin like she needed to hide and fight at the same time. Unable to pick which. Unable to move. It had been not even five minutes, and she already needed a hot shower to get rid of the slimy sensation of all her childhood traumas being triggered.

She hated being there. She hated having to remember what it meant to be part of that family and where she came from. All the abuse. All the manipulation. All the attempts to fit her in a box too small for her spirit. And all her desperate fighting. But then, Stella looked over to her sister and remembered why it was worth it.

Jenna offered a peaceful, soft smile, mouthing sorry towards her, to which Stella quickly shook her head, trying to alleviate her guilt.

She could only hope this dress she picked would be the one.

“You look so beautiful,” Stella started, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder, unafraid to show her affection to her even in front of her mother.

“I think the dress could be improved,” the woman started, sending Jenna a cold look as she studied her figure, “you should have got on that diet that I’ve suggested to lose a bit of weight.”

“Mother,” the gentleness Jenna had for her mother surprised Stella. If it had been her on the opposite side of that conversation, she would have bit her mother’s head off. “I won’t starve myself, plus now there’s nothing we can do, this is my size.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, honey” fake smile, “it looks really pretty, just not on you. I am wondering if maybe another one could-”

“It isn’t you getting married, Mother,” Stella snapped, “would you mind letting Jenna choose the dress that makes her happy the most?”

“Sometimes happiness is only a childish hollow hope. Duty, that is the real thing.”

“And you would know so much about duty, wouldn’t you, mother?”

“Stop it,” Jenna posed herself in between the two women, “both of you. I can’t stand this.”

Stella really wanted to be the bigger person. She really wanted to drop it and be able to rise above everything for her sister’s sake and yet there was something in Jenna’s behaviour that suddenly slashed through her. Hurt exploded through Stella’s chest and trying to keep it inside and controlled seemed impossible.

Maybe it was selfish of her, but Stella was suddenly angry at her sister. Why wouldn’t she ever pick her side, for once? Why would she hover in the middle between her and their parents without ever picking a side? And hers was the only right side since the ways she had been hurt. Why was that not a factor important enough for Jenna to just send their mother away in order to maintain her sister's well-being?

“You know what?” Stella started, shaking her head, “I will go.”

Jenna turned towards her. “Stella, no, please,”

“Let her go. It’s what she does best, after all.”

Stella rolled her eyes to the ceiling but didn’t grace her mother with a reply. She didn’t deserve it. Instead, she reached to grab one of Jenna’s hands, giving her a shake. “I am sorry. Truly. I will call you, ok? We’ll organise for next week, ok?”

“Stella, please stay.”

She was deaf to her sister’s plea. It was running away or risking having a crisis. And she had too many plates spinning at the moment to risk falling into a bad place.

Stella didn’t even know how she was supposed to survive an entire weekend around those people if five minutes had proven to be her max.

“Can’t.” Stella shrugged, “Sorry sis.”

Before she could dash, Jenna dragged her into a hug that Stella couldn’t refuse, even if Jenna herself was someone she wanted to run away from at the moment.

“But you look amazing.” Stella made sure to repeat the compliment to her sister, just to boost her confidence, God knew she needed it. “This is the one, trust me. Don’t listen to Mother.”

Jenna held her for a moment longer, before letting her go. “Call me later, ok?”

“Will do.”

Stella grabbed her bag and then faced her mother, who was standing right by the door. Behind them, in the central room, Stella could clearly see Jenna’s friends focusing on what was happening, trying to listen in.

She coldly looked back up at her mother, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to let me pass or are you trying to trap me in here?”

“You know that one day you won’t be able to run away anymore?”

“Why, do you actually want my company, Mother?” Stella raised her chin proudly, “Let me go and enjoy spending some time with your daughter.” Stella smiled sharply, “I can only hope one day she will realise what a monster you are. Then she will leave too.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, aren’t you quite done with the theatrics?”

“I’ll be done when you let me go,”

Her mother sighed and then moved to the side, crossing her arms to her chest. “Fine, keep avoiding your problems, Stella. But you can’t deny we are your family forever.”

Stella froze. A shiver crossed her back. She knew her mother didn’t mean any of it. Her only purpose was to kick her off the edge and send her spinning out of control.

“You haven’t been my family for a long time, mother.”

Stella sent a polite nod towards Sophia, who was still standing in the room. Good God, poor woman, Stella didn’t even want to know how horrible her mother would have been with her as soon as she was unleashed. And then she turned one last time towards Jenna, sending one last look over to her sister, a sad smile popped on her lips, “I love you, sis, I’ll see you later.”

#mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #maxwell jacob friedman x OFC #mjf x ofc #mjf x reader #mjf aew #mjf smut #mjf fanfiction

[ilovebeingintroverted]

@mjfsupremacy hear me out. Crazy girl and Pretty Boy date night this is something she totally would do 🤣🤣🤣

#mjf #aew #cat distribution system #OC #mjf x ofc #please please please please I’m begging you

[mjfsupremacy]

Exchange

It's me, Hi!

This is part one of a new fic I've been working on for the last few weeks, it's a reader x MJF BUT the reader has a name, it's a thing-ish. You can ignore it or like change it in your head or whatever you like, I don't dictate how you read my work, I'm just kicking my feet and blushing that you do read my work at all.

Moderate swearing throughout the entire fic. Mentions of MJF being the cringiest MFer to ever enter the country of England.

The first time you have the pleasure of making Maxwell Jacob Friedman's acquaintance, you wish it was the last.

You never minded working the night desk of the on-campus housing at your university in the three years since your first year. The pay was decent, you worked Thursdays, Fridays, and every second weekend, and you only had to work a few hours before the doors got locked and security had to be called if someone wanted to get in. You were usually tucked up safe in bed by one a.m. at the latest. For the most part it was an easy, quiet job and it gave plenty of time for studying or the chance to catch up on your reading or gaming.

It was Friday, a fairly busy one at that but the bustle hadn’t stopped you from powering through your coursework in record time. You’d finished all your homework, and the Nintendo Switch in your grasp had your full attention when the beep of a student card at the front door pulled your gaze just before midnight.

You can hear someone talking I’m a low tone and a round of flirtatious giggles follow as the pair come into view. You recognise the girl; you are pretty sure her name is Maddy. She checks a different person in every weekend you work and honestly you are kind of obsessed with her in a ‘I wish I was as cool and pretty and fun as you’ kind of way.

Probably Maddy, and her new beau, stop in front of the white desk that tucks into the wall beside the front door. You set your Switch down and hand a clipboard and pen over the short glass with a polite smile. The girl you are like 78% sure is named Maddy, takes the pen and then frowns, turning to the guy beside her. “I don’t know your name.”

He smirks, lifting the pen from her fingers and scribbling down his name and contact number. You think he looks a bit full of himself in his wine button up, pressed black slacks, and an actual Burberry scarf. His tawny hair is curly but fastidiously styled, and his skin obviously fake tanned. When he replies to her, you think that calling him ‘A bit full of himself’ was perhaps a bit polite.

“Don’t worry, Toots, I’ll have you screaming it in no time.”

A right wanker. Even worse, an American. Gross.

He all but throws the clipboard and pen at you with a saucy wink and you have to swallow down the urge to throw up. He leads a giggling Maddy away with a hand low on her back. You hang your head in the hopes of hiding your disgust, your eyes scrolling over the sign-in sheet in your hands and your nose crinkles further.

In big, surprisingly neat block lettering that takes up five lines of the list is his name; MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN. Below, in a slightly smaller font was his number along with a note that read ‘call me anytime, sweet-cheeks x’

You gag, swivel your chair around to the shredder and dispose of the page without a second thought. Perhaps you put Maybe Maddy on a bit too high of a pedestal.

*

The following Thursday, you are about to pack up for the night, a well loved and overly annotated copy of Persuasion stacked on top of your laptop, waiting for you to switch the phone to after hours, lock the doors, and make your escape when you hear the familiar beep and whoosh from a few steps away.

“Hey!” A girl you’ve never seen before calls to you in a light Irish accent, all bright smiles and glassy eyes. “Is it too late to check in?”

You shake your head, offering her a small smile which quickly becomes rigid at the sight of a man in a Burberry scarf following her through the door with a familiar cocky smirk. Maxwell Jacob Friedman.

You were on your way to lock the door when they came in, so you reach over the glass to grab the clipboard and pen handing them to the girl who sighs a thank-you gratefully. You quickly dart around them to secure the door so no one else can get in without security before returning to your spot in front of the white door that leads to your spot at the desk.

You can feel him watching you and a quick glance over confirms it. Maxwell’s gaze scales your body from top to bottom, giving nothing away. You fleetingly wonder what a man with expensive taste such as him thinks of your oversized hoodie, mismatched and equally loose tracksuit pants, and lurid pink moccasins. You get your answer when his dark eyes meet yours and they are filled with a mix of amusement and distaste.

Rude.

The girl passes the sheet to him so he can put his phone number down and he takes its, scoffing at whatever she’s written, scribbling it out and then writing below it quickly. He passes it to you along with the pen before wrapping his arm around his date, throwing you a smirk and heading down the hall.

You glance down at the clipboard in your hands once they have disappeared and sigh.

Max Freeman

MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN

2133 361 669

you didn’t call, gorgeous. I’m hurt. Nice sweatpants.

You key in the code to the little office that your desk chair sits in and head directly to the paper shredder again. God this guy is a prick. You really hoped you never had to see him again.

*

Two days later he walks through the door with a pretty brunette on his arm and a giant grin on his face that only grows at the sight of you.

“Desk Girl, tell me; Do you have a life or is this as good as it gets for you? I’m almost think I should feel sorry for you, I mean, I would but you have practically unfettered access to me being here which is obviously a gift.”

You actually couldn’t tell if he’s joking or not, but you are blessed from having to answer when the girl he’s with pulls her arm away from his with a scowl. “So, you’re here often then?”

You can see the exact moment Maxwell realises he fucked up and he quickly pours out an excuse to placate his new hook-up. “Yeah, yeah, I have a friend from one of my classes here! We study together a lot. That’s how I know desk girl here, right?” His dark innocent eyes meet yours and they widen dramatically as if to beg you to go along with it. The girl’s glare cuts to you and you just shrug handing him the sheet and pen for a third time.

He scribbles on the clipboard hastily, all but throwing it back at you with a scowl before grabbing his date by the hand and pulling her down the corridor. You offer a little finger wave and his glare hardens when he realises your fucking with him.

MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN

2133 361 6693

way to have my back, beautiful. And here I was thinking we were friends. What do you do with these by the way. I know you aren’t keeping them; you would’ve called me by now if you were, I’m irresistible.

You rolled your eyes folded up the page and moved to the shredder for the third time. The phone rings and you tucked the sheet into your copy of The Bell Jar instead, not thinking about it again until later that night when your comfortable in bed and it falls into your lap.

Huffing a laugh, you flick it into your bedside drawer.

*

You don’t see Maxwell until your next Saturday shift two weeks later. A hopeful part of you wonders if maybe his exchange had ended or if the entire country of England had decided unanimously to reopen the Tower of London for its intended purpose. Unfortunately, he struts through the door on the arm of another girl before you can wonder if they’ll let you throw stones at him in his cell.

The girl he’s with is in your modern lit class and she waves excitedly when she spots you. Her name is Lisa and she normally stops to talk to you about books whenever she catches you at your desk.

“Hey! I was hoping you were in tonight!” Lisa gushes, lifting the flap on her messenger bag and pulling out a book. “I just finished this today and I knew you would love it. When I tell you it’s absolute trash in the best possible way, oh my God.”

You take the book with a grin, doing your best to ignore the smug looking man attached to Lisa’s hip. You set the book down beside your laptop and pass Maxwell the clipboard and pen. His fingers graze yours unnecessarily as he takes them from you.

“What are you reading?” Lisa asks peaking over at the well loved blue book on your desk, tabs and sticky notes poking out from seemingly every page. You hand it to her and her eyes instantly fill with excitement. “Egghead! I’ve wanted to read this forever. I take it you like it if the look of it is anything to go by.”

You blush and offer a shrug, “Bo Burnham always understood me.” You joke quietly. Maxwell stops scribbling and looks up at you in shock. You suddenly realise that you’ve never spoken in front of him before. He looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it, learning his lesson after last time.

“You can borrow it if you like,” You offer Lisa. “I’ve read it a hundred times; besides I have a masterpiece to get around.” You tap the book she gave you wryly, before taking the offerings from Maxwell whose face is alternating between an annoyed scowl and curiosity.

“Are you sure? I love reading all your notes, you always spot hidden meanings I have no hope of catching.” Lisa asks, clutching the book to her chest. You can’t help but grin at her hopeful expression.

“I’m sure. Have fun.”

“Oh, she will.” Maxwell adds in a typical smug tone throwing an arm around Lisa’s shoulders. Lisa laughs, grabbing his hand and leading him down the corridor.

“Thanks, Ellie! I’ll drop it back once I’m finished. Have a good night!” Lisa throws over her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Maxwell adds. “Have a good night... Ellie.” You roll your eyes and fall into your chair, grabbing the clipboard on the way.

MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN

2133 361 6693

So, you speak, how interesting. Irish? See I would’ve known this about you already, Doll, if you’d called, or texted, or smoke signalled. Before you lock this one away in your box of treasures, good tip is to try saving the number first.

You don’t know why you tuck the note into your textbook, but you do, and you don’t think of it again until your throwing it in your bedside table drawer with the other one.

#maxwell jacob friedman #mjf fanfiction #mjf fanfic #mjf imagine #mjf #mjf x reader #mjf x ofc #aew fic #aew #maxwell jacob friedman fanfic #maxwell jacob friedman fanfiction #maxwell jacob friedman x reader #maxwell jacob friedman x ofc #mjf x oc #maxwell jacob friedman x oc

[wildchildvdm]

Criminal [MJF X OFC]

I never thought to write a One Shot about MJF. I confess I have always been a fan of Maxwell but never had the courage to say it because I lot of people I know totally hate him (Hello bestie). Honestly I never wrote something like that and I am happy to do it, despite the hardships during the sex scenes.

I thank my babes from The Super Secret Cool Club: I love you so much.

My bestie Ana (@regalityandcoffee) despite she doesn't like MJF, I love you anyway she will kill me after this one shot.

Salvatore for helping me with a lot of scenes because I need some male knowledge and my best friend is always here to catch me and help me.

My babes of the BCC with Tiddies, I love y'all so much.

I thank Gigi (@claymorexpunisher) for the huge help with the tags.

If I miss a tag please tell me because I am really bad at it. Love you all.

Rating: Mature

Summary: Diana Regal. Heir of the house of Regal and Williams. She followed her parents' footsteps and decided to be a wrestler. She traveled a lot, trained in Japan but one contract changed her life: All Elite Wrestling. Her first work in a major federation and the reunion with some old friends, the meeting with the person that turns out to be her enemy: Maxwell Jacob Friedman.

Read it here

#the return of the ladyship #MJF #maxwell jacob friedman #AEW #MJF x ofc #Maxwell Jacob Friedman x OFC #ladyship masterlist

[debbiechanclub]

» Back to all masterlists

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

― One-Shots

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

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

― Headcanons

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

NJPW Bullet Club

WWE/NXT Pete Dunne Tyler Breeze

#aew fanfiction #aew imagine #njpw fanfiction #njpw imagine #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #nxt fanfiction #nxt imagine

[elitehunter]

AEW Holiday One-Shots

Rather than doing an individual post of all of the stories I finally got to editing and posting, here's a list of the remaining holiday stories that are up on AO3. Here are the ones for AEW:

(It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas) But the Prettiest Sight to See is the Holly that Will Be On Your Own Front Door (Eddie Kingston x OFC) Rated T, 1,841 words

Eddie has accidentally invited everyone over to celebrate the holidays. Getting his place ready to host his friends and their families is not going to plan. She steps in to save the day, making some of the others look at their relationship a bit more curiously. Are they more than friends?

Warnings: just one instance of cursing

I Just Want You for My Own (More Than You Could Ever Know) (Jeff Parker x OFC) Rated G, 2,926 words

He's liked her for a long time and when she tells him she has a gift for him for Christmas, he scrambles to find something thoughtful to give her in return. But when Matt, Daniel, and Anna try to give him a nudge to just tell her how he feels, a few wires get crossed.

Warnings: None

I'll Be Home for Christmas (You Can Count On Me) (Nick Jackson x OFC) Rated G, 1,786 words

When his flight is delayed he kicks himself for staying in town an extra day instead of flying home with the others. But while stranded in the airport, he meets her - distressed that she may not get to visit her family in time for the holidays. As the airport fills with more disgruntled passengers on delayed flights, he thinks maybe they can make the best of it. And the more he gets to know her, he thinks maybe it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

Warnings: None

I See Your Smilin' Face Like I Never Seen Before (That's What Christmas Means to Me, My Love)  (Wardlow x OFC) Rated G, 1,510 words

Something is off. His girlfriend has been obsessing over finding a certain holiday song on the radio but won't even tell him this one. As they get closer to the holidays, she seems increasingly down about it. He's determined to put a smile back on her face again.

Warnings: Mentions of death of a family member (several years prior to the story taking place but just in case wanted to warn for it)

There's Bound to Be a Better Ride Than What You've Got Planned (And the Sky is a Hazy Shade of Winter) (MJF x OFC) Rated G, 1,547 words

The new hire for Community Outreach has organized a toy drive for a local children's hospital. When she approaches AEW's newly crowned Heavyweight Champion to sign some figures, he flat-out turns her down and patronizingly suggests she buy them on eBay. She doesn't let his bad attitude deter her, though and suddenly MJF is left feeling something he hasn't felt before - guilt.

Warnings: None. They do go to a children's hospital, but with no real details - but again, want to warn for it just in case it's a sensitivity for folks.

#elitehunter fanfiction #elitehunter fic

[darkesttimelinejeffparker]

In the next two weeks, the goal is:

Jay White one shot (though tbh it might be multi-chapter depending on how long it is by the time I finish it)

I'm A Drifter (Hangman x OFC) chapter 2

WrestleBang fic

Ricky Starks one-shot (continuation of Reader Redux)

Orange Cassidy one-shot (continuation of Reader Redux)

MJF one-shot (continuation of Reader Redux)

Wardlow one-shot (continuation of Reader Redux)

#amanda writes fic

[regalityandcoffee]

Hi, hello it’s me again sorry lol but if you will:

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

Hello! Don't apologize! I love seeing you in my notes and inbox and stuff!!!!!!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?: This very dumb bit from A God on His Knees that I swear is funnier in context:

"Yeah, you're kind of hot when you're being a jerk. Maybe I'm just bent like that."

"Can't be any more unwell than me, love. I'm the one on my knees here."

🎢 Which of your fics would you consider your wildest ride?: I genuinely don't know if this question means wildest to read or wildest to write but writing wise? QUICK STUDY. Holy shit, I think that's the most stressed a fic has ever made me. The only other fic I've written a similar to it was A Pleasent Visit, and it was nowhere near as explicit it was... a trip to say the least. It was... a lot.

Wildest to read though? Burberry and Regret chapter one because I still can't tell if the match between Bryan and MJF and the brawl that follows is coherent and easy to follow LMAO

✨ Give you and your writing a complement. Come on now, you know you deserve it 😉: (*patting myself on the head*) I am pretty proud of the way I write my x readers and nameless OFCs, unless it explicitly says GN or x black reader I think I'm really good at making the descriptions as vague as possible so anyone can read them, you know?

❌ What is a trope you will never write? Anything where consent isn't explicit or enthusiastic. And on a less serious note, enemies to lovers. I don't count A God On His Knees because Will and the nameless ofc didn't even dislike eachother for that long. I just don't have the patience for it, you know? I'm a soft romance kind of person I like meet-cutes, pining, yearning, friends to lovers, that kind of jazz. Enemies to lovers just isn't my thing.

#asks #Im sorry my responses are so long but thank you for the ask sjejwjwhwhdvdv

[allelitesmut]

Palate Cleanser - A Prequel - Chapter 3

With Jonah's party raging at her house, Riley finds herself in a battle to maintain her self control.

Pairing: MJF x Actress!Childhood Friend!OFC

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Smut (minors dni), Cheating!!, Like lots of cheating, Jealousy, Rough Sex, Fingering, Public Sex Acts, Oral (m receiving), Face fucking, Spanking, Choking, Daddy Kink, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Degradation, Hair Pulling, Biting and Scratching, Spitting, Slapping

Find the original story here

Find earlier chapters of the prequel here: Chap 1, Chap 2

Smoothing out the front of her dress, Riley surveyed the party. It was in full swing now, her house bustling with people she didn't recognize. Jonah had disappeared a while ago, schmoozing with every man in a nice suit he could find. She snagged a glass of wine off the tray of a roaming waiter with an apologetic smile. Taking a slow sip, her eyes ended up back on the doorway, looking for the one person she actually wanted to see at this sorry party.

On the opposite side of the room, Max had already spotted her, wrapped in an absolute bombshell of a red dress, clearly looking for him, and a grin stretched across his face. She'd taken his advice. The quick boost to his ego was almost enough to wipe the nervous jitters from his gut, but fuck, she knocked the air out of his chest. Taking a deep breath and swallowing back the last of his nerves, he cut a path through the crowd straight to her. Her attention was firmly positioned at the door as he came up on her other side.

"Looking for someone?" His question made Riley jump, spinning towards his voice, barely managing to keep her drink from splashing across the well tailored suit he was in. As she realized who he was, she shuttered a sigh before smacking his chest.

"Jackass. Where have you been?" Shaking her head, she pulled him into a one armed hug, her glass in hand over his shoulder. But as she pulled back, she spotted the spectacularly hot woman that was flanking him. "Oh...sorry, I..." She trailed off, eyes flicking back to Max, looking all too smug, then back to the girl, who suddenly made her feel a little self conscious in her dress that had previously been making her feel incredible. Her stomach turned and she ignored the implication.

"Sorry, Samantha and I lost track of time." He enjoyed her quiet seething, her brow twitching almost imperceptible, if he weren't actively looking for the tick that meant his plan was playing out well from the start. But she donned a polite smile in Samantha's direction.

"Hi, I'm Riley." She offered and Samantha nodded a greeting. Riley squirmed, unsure what to say but unwilling to let Max see how well he was succeeding at getting under her skin. She had a boyfriend; she didn't need to be jealous. More importantly, she didn't get to be jealous. But Samantha just looked back to Max.

"I'm gonna get a drink." She said blandly before wandering away without another word. Max's eyes followed after her for a moment before returning to take in Riley's dress from closer up. In spite of himself, he gave a pained smile.

"I should probably go with her. I hear there's pervy Wall Street execs to watch out for at this party." He chuckled but Riley just grimaced. Jonah had already cornered her with Harry Randall once tonight and it was all but promised that it wouldn't be the last time she had to see them. Max took a few steps away from her before pausing and twisting back to look at her, eyes appraising for a few beats longer than necessary, blistering and threatening to burn her to the ground. "You look fucking spectacular, by the way. Most beautiful girl in a clear mile."

He winked and was gone before she could respond but the heat that dusted her cheeks lingered much longer. Her eyes fell to the floor, hiding the tiny smile she couldn't suppress.

_

Max nodded, plainly disinterested as Samantha talked at him, his eyes trained on Riley, across the room, finally tucked back under her idiot's arm. Based on the way Jonah was tripping over himself, trying to impress the bald man beside them, he assumed he was finally weaseling his way in with the big wig he wanted to hook. His jaw clenched hard watching how the guy openly ogled her. She was worth ogling but, fuck, Jonah was practically serving her up on a platter.

“Yeah, that’s cool, hun. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t bother to wait for her to stop talking, setting his cup down on a table. She huffed but he was already wandering away.

Wading through the crowd, he watched as Randall skimmed a knuckle down her forearm. Max nearly toppled someone trying to plow through faster than the seas would part. He wanted to seem casual as he stumbled upon them but the way he burst through the throng, that dream was shattered.

“Hey! Maximillion, buddy!” Jonah threw his hands up and Max didn’t miss the way he slurred. Already had a strong start. “Where's the super hot date Riley was telling me about?” The smug smile that rose to Max’s face was one that made her mildly murderous.

“Oh she’s around here somewhere.” His hand gestured aimlessly behind him but his eyes didn't leave Riley. Her skin prickled with the heat he was throwing off.

"Mr. Randall," Riley pulled his attention politely since Jonah was too preoccupied to, "this is my best friend, Maxwell." The bite in her voice was probably only noticeable to Max but his stomach turned. She sounded like she was trying to send a message - an angry one. The bald man offered a firm hand to him and he shook it, trying to match the enthusiasm.

"Please, I keep trying to tell this pretty thing here to call me Harry. We're all friends here, aren't we?" His voice was slick and his knuckles grazed across Riley's cheek that time. Max's hands clenched at his side, watching the way her entire body froze up. But then Harry was gesturing behind Max with a devious grin. "Ahh, this must be your date." Max ground his teeth, eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment before turning back to see that Samantha had, in fact, followed him over. He roped an arm around her and pulled her into the group, determined to make it worth the interruption.

“Oh, that’s her alright.” He beamed, eyes falling heavily on Riley.

“Well shit, she wasn’t kidding.” Jonah elbowed Harry, their eyes hungrily crawling up every inch of exposed skin they could see.

“Boys, this is my date, Samantha Walker.” Max showed her off to them and she gave a bored half smile. “You might recognize her from the billboard in Times Square.” The boys tittered excitedly but his gaze was squarely on Riley, her eyes narrowed at him.

“Of course. Gorgeous work.” Harry held a delicate hand out to her and she laid hers in it for him to pull to his lips for a kiss before letting her pull away. “You’re a welcome sight at any party.”

“You should see the magazine spread that’s coming next month.” She kept a tight smile, head cocked at Harry, who had a nauseating grin on, before turning to Max.

“Boy, as long as you’ve got her around, you’ve got a standing job offer with me.” Max let out a smug laugh, delighting in the way Jonah’s smile fell but quickly recovered.

“I might just take you up on that. Maybe investment banking is my lost calling.” He nudged Jonah with a taunting grin but it was repaid with a sneer.

"Oh gotta be careful with Maxie, here, you know he's professional wrestler? Never know when he might crack you with a chair shot to the head." Jonah chuckled condescendingly and Harry took an appraising look over Max. Riley glared at Jonah, smacking his stomach.

"Is that right?" Harry lodged the question at Max but Jonah cut him off.

"Yup, wrestling for rave crowds of twenty people in high school gymnasiums across New England." Jonah snickered, eyes darting between Harry and Samantha.

"He's an incredible athlete," Riley inserted herself and Max's eyes shot to her with a grin that rivaled the irritation on Jonah's face. "A generational talent that is getting the chance to make history, wrestling for over ten thousand people in Chicago this fall." She only let herself send a pointed look to Jonah, not daring to connect with what she was sure was an insufferable face that Max was making. As much as she was annoyed with Max, no one got to talk about him like that - not even her drunk ass boyfriend.

"That is fascinating, you know, maybe the next time the circus comes to town, we could all get box seats at your gymnasium." Harry clapped his back with a patronizing grin and Max matched his insincerity. "As long as you bring Sam, here."

"Oh, fantastic. Sounds like a plan." He squeezed Samantha to his side and Riley shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Then Riley might finally get some competition for hottest person in the crowd for once." His eyes drifted back to hers with a sharp smile that made her skin prickle. She chewed at her lip, trying not to let him get to her but the pit in her stomach fueled itself. Her jaw clenched. "Huh, Ry? We can take some of the pressure off you. Samantha's already used to being the hottest in any room."

“What are you doing with Max, anyway?” Jonah aimed at Samantha and she giggled. “You’re so far out of his league, it should be illegal.”

“Like you’re one to talk.” Max shot back and Harry slapped his back with a loud laugh.

When he glanced back across the circle, though, he just barely caught it as Riley was slipping back out of the group. He waited for anyone else in the circle to notice but the sound of Harry’s booming laugh confirmed it was only him. He went to draw attention back on her but Harry was already blabbing.

“See, this is just what I want in a team!”

But Riley was out of sight now and Max was left wondering what the hell he was doing with these people.

-

Watching with a rotten face, Max rolled his eyes as Jonah poured a drink for a giggling Samantha across the room. He was nearly regretting bringing her now; Riley may have been jealous but she was also barely speaking to him, and, as he was finding out, Samantha was not the greatest conversationalist. Not the issue he thought he was going to have.

But before he could stew about it, his elbow was yanked from its spot, forcing him away from the table. He recognized the back of Riley’s head, dragging him towards the back door but should have known it was her from the way his skin burned at the touch. She barely stopped, throwing open the door to her back deck and pulling him out after her. The sound of her slamming the door closed was met with an abrupt silence, only the thumping of the music inside seeping through. She all but tossed him against the back wall of her house.

"What the hell are you doing, huh?" She demanded and Max sat back, startled by her outburst. He knew he was getting under her skin but this was possibly the most worked up he'd ever seen her.

"I'm trying to enjoy a party...was I doing it wrong?" He was smug. If she was going to confront him this angrily, he was going to extract a little joy out of it first.

"I mean with Malibu Barbie." She said as if it should have been obvious, but she didn't like the way his lips curled around.

"Jonah told me to bring a date. I'm just following directions." He held up his hands innocently and she scoffed, pacing away from him then back.

"Okay but no one told you to bring someone that outrageously hot. I'm supposed to be making some gross impression on Jonah's stupid, pervy boss but I can't even do that because you're parading around here with a fucking Playboy Bunny and she makes me look like an unpolished turd." Her words were breathless and halfway through she took back up her pacing, unable to meet his eye. She was spinning out and couldn't reign herself back in. This entire night was making her neurotic and she couldn't even decide what was causing the worst of it. But she knew that being disappointed because some pervy old man stopped ogling her wasn't helping.

"Okay well first of all," He held up a finger and Riley blew out a breath, glaring at him in advance of whatever he was going to inevitably say to annoy her. "You’re a fucking smoke show, Miss Red Dress." Her cheeks burned with the insinuation, his eyes raking over every inch of her. "Don't ever let me hear you talk about yourself like that again." His voice made it clear it was a threat, though she wasn’t sure she could stand to know what it was threatened against. “Second of all, call me crazy but maybe the party - that is supposed to be an apology to you - shouldn’t be all about using you as sexual harassment bait.” He shrugged with pursed lips and Riley blew out a breath. “Maybe, just maybe, you deserve better than that.” His tongue traced the inside of his teeth as he tried to keep his voice under control, eyes locked with hers. She let her body fall back but he stepped closer to her and his voice dropped an octave, devilish smile sneaking onto his face as he tilted his head. “And lastly, you are sounding awfully jealous.”

“I am not jealous.” She gaped, crossing her arms over her chest, blowing past everything else he had said. That was the only part she knew how to refute.

“Right so you won’t mind, then, if I remind you that Samantha isn’t a Playboy Bunny, she’s a Victoria's Secret Angel.” He had been fortunate that Samantha’s brother owed him a favor. And he felt even more fortunate, watching Riley’s face scrunch up, tiny fists squeezed at her sides and color rising to her cheeks.

“You’re a jackass.”

“And you’re jealous.” It wasn't a question or a presumption this time; it was a matter of fact, but she glared at him none-the-less.

"Well you only even brought her to make me jealous." The words hissed through her teeth were placating the growing pit in her stomach and fueled by an ill-advised tequila shot. Max scoffed with a laugh, his whole body swaying back with it.

"You've got a boyfriend, sweetheart. Me bringing a hot chick shouldn’t make you jealous." He said and heat raced to her face. Her eyes darted inside at the party that wouldn't even notice she was missing, then back at Max. Words mulled around her mouth, fumbling to produce a sentence that wouldn't make a fool of her.

"I...just...this morning...I thought..." Abject failure. Crashed and burned. She swallowed hard and averted her eyes from what she was certain was his absolute delight. Max paused, studying the shame on her face, tracing it back to their conversation before he left this morning, and the light clicked in his head. A devious smile curled around his lips.

"Ohhh." He cooed, sliding into her line of sight with a pout. "What? You realized I was right this morning when I said I could have you any time I want?" She took a step back towards the door, suddenly regretting pushing this subject. "Or did you know I was right as soon as I said it? Were you hoping I was gonna flex my ability to get you naked right there on your kitchen counter?"

Riley's breathing faltered and swallowing back her nerves became next to impossible. Every hair on her arms was standing on end. She took a couple hurried steps towards the door, shaking her head, content to flee into the party and delay this conversation indefinitely. There was no way she could be trusted to be alone with him for another minute. But Max caught her wrist as she turned, drawing her in close. She skittered back against the wall of the house and he was quick to crowd her in. This was not how she intended for things to go when she pulled him out here.

"Riley," He drawled, "did you put on this pretty red dress, just like I like, hoping I would come and tempt you into some dark corner to take it off?" His hand skated up the curve of her waist, words hushed in the rustle of summer air, her hand on his chest the only stopper between them. She shook her head but the flush of shame she felt told a different story. His breathy laugh ghosted along her jaw before his lips settled by her ear. "No? So you weren’t hoping I would fuck you like a whore against this wall with your boyfriend right inside just to prove I can?"

“N-no…” her voice wavered unmistakably, her hand drifting, and Max tsked.

“Want to try again and see if you can make it sound like you mean it?” He said, and she could feel his smirk against her neck.

“Fuck you.” She shot back but it sounded a bit loftier than she intended. Max’s breath fanned across her skin and sent a wave of goosebumps down her back.

“Better but it would be more convincing if you weren’t literally trying to get into my pants right now.” He rubbed his thumb into her waist and she jolted as she realized the way her hand had moved down past his stomach, a finger absently hooking around the top of his slacks. Her hands flew up, away from all incrimination, and she pushed him back.

“That’s not….!” She shouted but couldn’t manage to conjure the end of her argument and Max raised a mocking brow.

“When are you gonna learn that you can’t lie to me, Ry?” His voice was still hushed but he kept the small distance she’d forced between them.

“I’m not lying.” She insisted with a petulant huff, in spite of the way her body was begging her to pull him back in against her. “I only took your suggestion for the dress because I needed to make a good impression for my actual boyfriend. It doesn’t mean I want to fuck you, you egomaniac.” She said with a bite, rolling her eyes. It almost sounded like she might have meant it that time but she didn’t like the taste it left in her mouth. Max tutted.

“See? This is exactly why we couldn’t live together.” He sniped, watching as fire roared to life behind her eyes. “You can’t handle it.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She let her anger take full control of her voice, burying the sting she felt way down beneath it all. “That has nothing to do with this!”

“Please.” He scoffed. “I bring a date to one event, after I was told to do so, and you don’t last thirty minutes before dragging me out here to pick a fight.” Riley didn’t like the way her heart rate picked up. She was regretting this choice more and more with every second that it exposed her further. “And now you’re trying to throw your boyfriend in my face like it’s supposed to make me jealous…” He let out a dark laugh and stepped back into her. She held his gaze steadily, hoping a false confidence would keep him from seeing right through her. “I told you, you would have lost your mind if we lived together and I brought a girl home with me and its looking like I was right.” Riley scowled at him, an angry bile rising in her throat, a sickly feeling spreading through her body.

“Right, because of course that’s right where your mind went when I asked you to live with me.” The venom in her voice was involuntary, months buried emotions seeping through. She was fuming, chest heaving with her breath.

"Like you have room to talk." His eyes narrowed. "You fucking sprinted into this relationship after I said no."

"Yeah, almost like I was - " But she stopped short, swallowing back the words. That wasn't a sentence she could stand to finish. He didn't need any more ammunition against her. If he knew how much he’d hurt her, she would be left with so little deniability. But he was so close that she could smell his cologne and the warmth of his body was muddying her senses.

"Like you were what?" He was staring straight through her, his frame looming over her.

"Nothing." She snapped, jaw clenched tight. “Fucking forget it.” Max’s fingers clenched by his side, wringing out every ounce of restraint he could to keep from grabbing a fistful of her hair.

“No. Say it. Please, I’d love to hear what thought process led you to this housewarming party. You just scared to be alone or were you trying to piss me off?” He sneered and the red hot anger in her gut boiled over.

“Screw you, Max.” She shoved hard at his chest but he didn’t budge.

“Did you think you’d make me regret saying no if you started dating the stupidest man alive?” He just kept on digging. But, oh he did regret saying no. He had regret it the second he watched her face fall; then doubly the next week when her mom’s set up suggestion left her mouth. And even more so when he met Jonah for the first time.

“Shut up! It had nothing to do with you.” Heat flushed her cheeks and she desperately hoped he couldn’t tell in the dim light.

“Bullshit. That’s bullshit and you know it!” He pointed a finger right in her face and she swatted it away.

“Look, if you were jealous when I started dating Jonah, just say that.” She pivoted, “But I didn’t do shit because of you.” Poking her tongue hard into her cheek and she watched the way the vein in his head bulged through narrowed eyes. Still just short of convincing.

“Lie to yourself as much as you want but you’re not fooling me, sweetheart.” His cocky voice made her bristle. “You can’t throw on your brat voice and think you’re gonna convince me you don’t want me to fuck you.” She gaped at him, brow knit together.

“I really can’t stand you.” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, his body pressed on the other side, unable to find the words to refute any of it.

“Yeah, okay, brat.” He chuckled, rolling his eyes, and she scowled before immediately undoing her arms so she could flick his face hard right in the center of his forehead. Snatching her hand out of the air, he held it up between them with a blistering irritation on his face. Her eyes widened, heart beat pulsing in her ears. “You’re pushing your fucking luck, princess.” The growl of his whispered voice sent a shiver down her spine. Fire spread through her veins. Raising one deliberate finger on her free hand, she pushed it firmly into his chest.

"Push." She taunted him with a defiant look on her face, and his eyes blazed. Yanking her hand hard, he held both her arms up between them with a tight grip around the wrists, and they lingered, chests heaving, locked in a tense stand off.

The sound of her back door opening sent them skittering away from each other lightning fast. Riley’s heart raced as she saw Jonah step out onto the back patio. What the hell was she doing here? What the hell was she thinking? The line she was dancing on was a treacherous one.

“Should’ve known I’d find you two together. Mind if I steal my girl for a dance?” Jonah laughed and sent a ripple of strained laughter to echo around them. Riley was quick to jump to his side.

“Fine, but have her back by ten.” Max deadpanned, leaning back against the small wrought iron patio table.

Jonah saluted before leading Riley back inside. As they stepped through the door, she took one final glance back at him and instantly regret it when she saw the angry, hungry way he was watching her. Oh, she was in trouble.

But she let Jonah lead her out into the center of the crowd that had formed in her living room. It was clear that he was a few more drinks in than he had been when she left him. She could smell the liquor on his mouth as he drew her in close and she wound an arm around his shoulders.

“I think things are going really well.” Jonah whispered, starting to move them to the rhythm of the slow song that was playing, watching the room over Riley’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” She hummed, trying to regain her composure, skin still prickling.

“Yeah, Harry and I are meshing on a whole other level. And you have definitely made an impression on him!” He sounded enthusiastic but Riley only grimaced, out of his view; she didn’t want to know what he meant by that. And it made her tantrum outside feel a whole lot more like it may have been fueled by jealousy.

“A good one, I hope.” But she wasn’t sure she did.

“Oh a fantastic one. That dress is a money maker. You should’ve heard the things he said when I tracked him down in the kitchen before.” He winced. “Well…maybe it’s better you don’t…” Riley rolled her eyes but they landed across the room, where Max was leading Samantha out onto the makeshift dance floor that was once her living room.

“Yeah. Probably for the best.” She found herself unable to look away from the two of them.

“Max really came through tonight, though, huh? Brought enough eye candy for everybody to share.” He chuckled to himself and Riley tripped over her own feet, barely saving herself, cursing. “Think she’ll stick around? I could probably get Harry to offer me a contract on the spot if he thinks it’ll mean Samantha could be around at holiday parties.” He meant it as a joke but Riley didn’t laugh. Her teeth were grinding, eyes clambering to find them again as they turned back in the direction she’d last seen them.

“Charming.” She muttered. Her eyes finally locked in on Max, his hands on Samantha’s waist, whispering something into her ear that made her throw her head back laughing. He looked up at that moment and caught Riley’s gaze across the room, lips curling into a smug smile. She averted her eyes instantly, grateful for the rotation as they danced. “I wouldn’t count on seeing her again.”

“Shame. I wouldn’t have minded if you two hit it off and she started coming for sleepovers instead of Max.” He sighed and she was instantly torn between guilt over the mess that had become her friendship with Max versus the desire to hit Jonah for almost certainly thinking about a pillow fight he didn’t deserve to see. But all of it was really just a way to stifle the feeling that rose up as they rotated back into view and she saw Max’s hand dipping lower and lower down Samantha’s back.

“Yeah, well you know Max.” She said dryly. Jonah thrummed his fingers idly along her waist.

"I suppose that's true. Guy does not like to double dip." He moved them around the floor until he got a glimpse of them for himself. Riley grimaced at the crude statement, quiet on just how wrong it was. Jonah didn't know about everything that happened before he came along and she didn't particularly feel like sharing. What happened between her and Max was huge and looming and, most importantly, only for them. "But come on, sometimes you have to make an exception."

The music moved to a faster tempo but Jonah didn't release his grip on her hips and she didn't resist. He guided her movements against him as she craned her neck over his shoulder, instantly connecting with Max's gaze across the room. The gnawing feeling in his gut as he watched Jonah put his hands all over things that didn't belong to him was driving his actions now as he turned Samantha around and wound an arm around her center. Fire roared to life in Riley's chest as she blew out a shaky breath, and he grinned at her from behind Samantha's head, downright gleeful at how well he'd gotten under her skin. But two could play that game.

Snaking her arm more firmly around Jonah's neck, she pulled him into a searing kiss, eyes locked with Max until the last second. Jonah didn't hesitate to work their hips together, fingers squeezing into her ass and she made a show of letting her tongue sweep into his mouth. Max tensed across the room, blood pounding in his ears and fingers twitching in an attempt to control his urge to deck Jonah. When she finally pulled back from the kiss, Jonah let his lips fall to her neck and she let her eyes fall back to Max. She could see his teeth grinding from there, veins in his head threatening to burst, and the thrill that gave her was enough to tip the scales past the guilt that was gnawing at her gut. So when Max's lips trailed down to Samantha's neck, Riley turned in Jonah's arms, grinding her ass into his crotch. She didn't know if Jonah could see Max watching them but, at this point, she wasn't sure she cared. Jonah's fingers were skimming the edge of her dress up, revealing more of her thigh, wrapped in sheer black tights, and it was making Max's eyes dark with a possessive need that was making her panties wet from all the way across the room.

"Sorry to interrupt, could I just grab you for a second?" Harry Randall's voice burst Riley clear out of her bubble. "Won't have him long at all." He assured her and Jonah stepped away from her. She tried to cool the heat on her neck with the back of her hand. Harry roped an arm around Jonah but stopped before leading him away, leaning into Riley's space. "But do leave a dance for me, tonight, won't you, beautiful?" She smiled through a grimace, nodding with bared teeth.

The moment they had turned away, Riley dashed downstairs, away from the noise of the party. She needed a moment alone or she was going to end up making some very bad decisions. Her skin was prickling with so much heat that it physically hurt and she could feel herself spinning completely out of control. She just needed to get through this night. After that…well after that she needed to do some serious thinking.

But as she breezed past the kitchen on her way to lock herself away in a bathroom, she was yanked back and sandwiched against the island. Her fingers pressed into the firm chest in front of her before her eyes scrolled up to meet the storm in Max's eyes, and she leaned hard into that spin out of control.

"You seriously trying to make me jealous, brat?" His voice took a dangerous edge, his hands squeezing tight around her hips. Riley wet her lips, her mouth dry, and her fingers curled idly around edges in the fabric of his suit.

"Looks like its working." She taunted, hoping it was convincing enough to make him believe she wasn't fully flustered, and his eyes rolled back for a moment before he surged forward, hips pinned hard against hers. He gripped her chin tight, angling it up against a mild, bratty resistance.

"You think you can make me jealous with that slimy piece of shit?" He spat the words with venom as if he hadn't been ready to burst watching them on the dance floor; as if he hadn't been burning with jealousy over every single guy she had ever wasted her time with. His fingertips were digging into her jaw deliciously painful and his voice dropped to a low growl, enunciating every word with its own bite. "I was turning you on more just by looking at you, than he was while he slobbered on your neck." Riley couldn't tear her eyes away from him if she wanted to. Her face was burning but that had nothing on the fire dancing between her legs. "I know this body better than he ever could." He let one hand venture down her thigh and she shivered, cursing her body for the fire that was licking at the spots he touched. Steeling herself with a breath in, she raised a brow.

“Yeah? And yet, he was the one in my bed last night.” She sniped and he dug his fingers into her jaw so tight she had to squeeze her legs shut.

“Oh yeah? Was he making you feel real good in bed last night?” He chided and she tried, with a scowl, to rip her face out of his grip but he didn’t relent. “Did he roll his sweat-soaked, beer-bloated corpse over and give you the ride of your life? Or are you still just trying to make me jealous with your flimsy ass relationship?” His face hovered an inch from hers, the patronizing sneer plastered across it making her skin crawl.

“Why the fuck would I care about making you jealous?” She said, nostrils flaring.

“You tell me, Riley.” He levied it like a challenge and she fumbled for an answer that felt halfway plausible because she couldn’t stand to let him keep looking this smug. “Cause I can’t think of any other reason for you to act like it matters at all that he was in your bed when we both know you were laying there, thinking about me.” He was just a breath away from her lips and it made the breath in her chest stutter.

“You are so full of yourself.” She spat, the muscles in her jaw tensing with the effort she put into seeming like she wanted to get away. “Do you seriously think I’m laying awake at night, pining away after you. Get a grip.” His fingers tugged, incessant and involuntary, on the bottom of her dress, knuckles dragging along her tights and providing a damning distraction.

“I know you are. Especially last night. Because I know you, Riley. I know you and I know how this body works.”

"And yet, somehow I've still got my panties on." She said dryly but it came out sounding a lot like a challenge, and she kept digging. "Clearly you don't know my body as well as you think or you'd have me laid out on this countertop already." Max's fingers curled around the edge of her dress, twitching. "Or do you not want to fuck me, Max?" Her lips curled with the snap of each word, the thrill up her spine brandishing a courage she was wielding recklessly, and he blew a ragged breath out his nose, nails dragging up her thigh beneath the dress. His self restraint was dangling by a thread tonight. Months of watching her flaunt that stupid fucking relationship - a glaring reminder of his own stupidity.

"You're playing with fire, sweetheart. Keep it up, you're gonna end up gettin' burned." He adjusted his grip on her jaw, sliding up to squeeze her cheeks hard enough to make her lips pucker, giving her face a little dismissive shake before letting his hand fall back to his side and taking a step back. Riley's brows furrowed into a scowl; she wasn't ready for this fight to end.

"I think you're full of shit." She stoked the fire. "I think you talk a big fucking game but you couldn't get me undressed tonight if you tried." Max threw his head back with a booming, patronizing laugh. Then, brows drawn, he tutted as though a decision had been made for him, and, with a shrug and a hiss of air between his teeth, he started undoing the buttons of his jacket. He didn't break eye contact as he slipped the jacket off and draped it over a nearby chair back, pressure fluttering to life in her belly.

"Yeah? That how you want to play this, Riley? You want me to prove it to you?" He uncuffed the wrists of the dress shirt he had on, pushing them up his forearms, pulling her attention firmly to the pronounced veins that wound down into his hands. Her mouth hung open, grasping for a response as he stepped back against her. "You want me to prove that you won't move an inch when I put my hand on your thigh?" He let his fingers graze the inside of her thigh and her breathing faltered but she didn't budge, just watching the electrifying path up. Her brain was shaking her by the shoulders, telling her to move but god damn it if her body didn’t have a much bigger say in the matter, and fuck, her body never wanted him to stop touching her. "You want me to prove that if let my fingers wander up past this pretty red dress, that you won't push me away?" he crept right along and her hand sprung up, tangling in the hair at the base of his head, keeping him close. He leaned into her space, his nose brushing its way up her neck. God, no one alive could make her feel this weak. "Sweetheart, I’m not jealous because this is all it takes to get you to spread your legs for me.” His knee tapped at the space between hers and it started to happen before the words could even settle in her brain. He grinned into her throat. She gasped his name breathlessly and his cock throbbed beneath his slacks. He smacked the peak of her thigh hard enough for the noise to echo around the empty floor, and she whimpered. “Want me to prove how quickly I can get you begging me to rip clean through these tights, brat?” He snarled, fingers pulling tights away from skin but the sound of footsteps descending the stairs had her pushing him steps away. An excited conversation settled to a hush as Jonah and Harry came into view.

“There you are! Maxie! M’ man!” Jonah was wobbling, arm slung around Harry who didn’t seem more than a drink behind him. A match made in heaven if Max had ever seen one. His teeth ground, spinning to face him. So fucking close.

“You lookin’ for me?” His eyes flicked to Riley, cheeks flushed and breathing unsteady. Fuck, she looked needier than he'd seen her in months and it was physically painful to not be able to capitalize.

“Yeah, bud. My pal, here was hoping he could get a dance in with your date?” Jonah thumbed at Harry and Max suppressed the disgusted sneer that was bubbling beneath the surface.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Samantha that?” He didn’t have the patience for this bullshit.

“Well, yeah, of course. We just wanted to check with you first, you know? Make sure we got your permission before we ask her about him…” Jonah grinned, baring too many teeth. “…and maybe one for me too.” Max turned the request over in his head before a slick smile graced his face.

“You know what, I think that’s a great idea. You take my girl for a spin, and I’ll take your girl for a spin.” He proposed, eyes darting to Riley with a glimmer of mischief, and Jonah clapped his hands in approval, seemingly oblivious to what he’d walked in on.

“That feels like a mighty fair deal, eh Jonah?” Harry elbowed him and he nodded eagerly. Riley felt her stomach clench, anger building just behind her face, ready to billow out her nose. He was shameless - ready to trade her away in an instant. She had no right to be annoyed with him, given her predicament, but it didn't stop her.

“Sounds fantastic. You don’t mind, do you, babe?” He finally turned to Riley who sat back with a resigned expression just barely masking the simmering anger.

“Not at all. Max knows how to keep me company.” She said sharply and didn’t miss the way Max perked up.

“Great!” Jonah crossed the room for a quick kiss on the cheek that Riley fought against her urge to dodge.

"Sam just went to grab some ice, you guys should wait out on the front step for her. I'm sure she'll be back soon." Max offered as if he hadn't let Sam know she could head home for the night before he came down to see Riley. Jonah gave a thumbs up before returning to the stairs. Max was by her side before Jonah was out of the room, crooked smile a dangerous sign of what’s to come.

“So, gonna take that dance with the devil after all, Ry?” He offered a hand out to her and Jonah stopped at the top of the stairs with a glance back. Hesitating, her eyes locked with Max, she laid a reluctant hand in his and let him lead her up the stairs.

Pulling Riley into the crowded center of the makeshift dance floor, he waved a goodbye to Jonah with a sickly smile. He twirled her round with their joined hands until she was standing flush against him, skin buzzing so loudly she thought Jonah might hear it across the room. Max raised their hands up, pulling it to drape around his neck before he released it and let his hand fall to her hip.

“Max…” She warned, walking the tightrope of a line that every traitorous inch of her body was begging her to dive off, straight into him.

“Yes, Riley?” He replied innocently, in spite of the not so innocent way his hips were already moving against her.

“We shouldn’t…” But she couldn’t finish the thought when his lips brushed her ear. She was already wound so tight she wasn't sure she could withstand the pressure of being this close.

“We’re just dancing. We’ve danced a million times before.” He whispered, the breath tickling her neck, while rocking his hips, guiding hers against his.

The slinky, pulsing music echoed the beat of her heart and her free hand came up to rest on his firm chest. He wasn’t wrong. They had danced often enough that it felt like second nature. But never when she had a boyfriend; at least, not like this. And never when they had just been so close to crossing the line. Now, though, she didn’t need him to guide her; her hips were moving plenty well on their own. And when his fingers tangled in the hair on the back of her head, she was lost to it. Max watched as her eyes fluttered shut, lips swollen and parted in a contented breath.

“Not so mouthy now, huh?” He murmured into the thin skin of her neck and goosebumps raised up her arms. “You startin’ to get tired of pretending you don’t want this?”

And she was. She was exhausted. Her body was physically aching for him, she wanted to give in so badly. She was tired of fighting it. And she was tired of having all these strangers in her house. And she was really tired of not being able to remember the last interaction she had with her boyfriend that didn’t leave her fuming. And she was really, really tired of feeling guilty all the time when she hadn’t even had any fun.

“Yes.” The word slipped out her mouth, a needy whisper, so quiet Max almost missed. But he thanked god he didn’t because that was all he needed to hear to spin her around and sandwich her back against his body with an arm snaked around her waist.

“You don’t have to fight this hard, Riley.” His lips reconnected with the shell of her ear and his other hand landed on her hip. “You tried. It didn’t work. Stop torturing yourself.” She melted into him, her head falling back on his shoulder as they moved against each other to the music.

The song ended but neither of them were moving an inch. As the next song started, more people filled in around the dance floor, the crowd shifting until they were at its pulsing center. She’d never seen this many people in her house at once but none of them felt real - it was all just a roaring hum encircling the only real thing she’d ever known. As the fog machine kicked on, Riley's inhibitions slipped. Her arm reached up behind her head, snaking around his neck, fingers nestling in his hair.

“Were you thinking about me while you were dancing with your boyfriend earlier?” He hissed, yanking her hip flush against him, and she sucked in a breath. “Were you grinding that perfect little ass into him, wishing it was me?” And she nodded before she could stop herself, hips winding against his crotch as she hummed a confirmation. “What else have you been wishing for, sweetheart?” He rocked into her and nipped at her earlobe, pulling a whine from her chest.

“I wished it was you in my bed last night.” The words were a trembling whisper that she wished she could have blamed on alcohol. Max’s fingers dug into her flesh, his hips stuttering for just a moment, his stiffness getting more apparent as she ground back into him. He was so close; she was nearly his again, and it was a little heady.

“Oh yeah?” He peppered featherlight kisses over her neck and her breathing faltered. “Were you laying in bed next to him, imagining the dirty things I’d do to you if I was there?” His voice rumbled, the vibration spreading down her spine and she nodded, head tilting to accommodate him, the delicious ache between her legs taking control of the steering wheel.

“Mmmhm, like the way your fingers would've climbed up my thigh.” Her free hand covered his that was wrapped around her waist, guiding it down over her hips to the bottom of her dress. He growled into her neck, fingers curling around the edge of the fabric. He nipped at the delicate skin and she keened. If the music wasn’t so loud, she was certain she would have been heard.

“Did you picture how I would have spread your legs wide before sliding right past those tiny little shorts you wear to bed." His voice was a low rumble in her ear and pressure built in her core, pulsing and raw and impossible to ignore. She guided his hand further up her thigh, pushing past her dress, dragging along the thin fabric of her tights. “Or maybe you hoped I'd tease you first.” He lightly resisted the path she had set his hand on, setting a more torturous pace. “Make you writhe and beg for it like a good little slut.” His warm palm crept up until his fingers just brushed her panties through her tights before pulling back an inch. Riley's heart raced, her brain buzzing with so many bad ideas she couldn’t see through the fog. Her body, though - her body knew exactly what it wanted.

“Maaaaax..." She whined but he only tutted in her ear, fingers tapping the top of her thigh each time. Her hips chased his touch to no avail as his other arm wound tight around her hips, anchoring her to the spot.

"What do you want, Riley?" He cooed against her neck. She squirmed in his grip with a whimper, her hand pulling his more urgently toward her center. He obliged her, cupping her mound, his middle finger stroking firmly over her. Her body jerked at the sensation but he pinned her hips to his. Stroking her through her tights, he could already feel her slick seeping through.

“Already so messy for me. You been missin' my fingers that much?” He rubbed slow, steady circles into her and her head rested on his shoulder, mouth opening in a breathless pant. She grasped at the last straws of reason that told her maybe, just maybe, they weren’t crossing a line if her clothes stayed on. She knew, deep down, that they were way too far gone for that, though. She knew she was hurtling miles past the line already and wasn’t close to stopping. She also knew that she really didn't want to stop. His hands were addicting and seven months without them was leaving her desperate for a fix. A much stronger fix than this.

“More, please Max, I need more…” She rocked against his hand, the fog in her brain almost as thick as the fog spilling into her living room. He chuckled against her throat.

“There’s my good little slut. Let me hear how bad you need my fingers inside you.” He rasped, pulling her tights away from the skin of her thighs, fiddling with the seam. Her fingers fumbled to help but he smacked them away. His free hand came up to guide her chin until she met his eyes over her shoulder, close enough to breathe the same air. “Use your words, Riley.” Her name on his tongue made her head spin until the entire world was just them, like they had always been, and this fog.

“Please, daddy, I need to come on your fingers…” She hurtled herself so far over the line that she couldn’t see it behind her, and Max couldn’t stop the low growl that emanated from his chest before he pulled her face the rest of the way in for a crushing kiss. Her fingers tightened in the hair on the back of his head and her body arched to meet him, hungrily demanding more. She didn’t know how much she’d missed the way he kissed her but now she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to stop. Abandoning all pretense of dancing, they devoured each other like they would never get another chance, fervent and messy and clinging tightly to each other.

His hand trailed down her face, pawing hard at her chest, his hips still grinding into her ass, unmistakably hard. He pinched her nipple through the fabric of her dress and she moaned into his mouth, making his cock twitch against her body. Impatient, he hastily reached both hands up beneath her dress, fingers curling round and tearing a hole wide open through the crotch of her tights. She gasped at the sudden motion and he captured her bottom lip with his teeth, pulling back until it released.

With one hand returning to rope around her hips, holding her tight to him, he used the other hand to pull her panties to the side. She clung to his hair, foreheads pressed together hard, her mouth hanging open just a breath from his as he delved into her dripping folds, and she jolted at the sensation.

And she should have felt shame. She should have felt that gnawing pit of guilt that had lived in her stomach for the last month or at least felt nervous that they could be caught if the fog lifted for a moment, but she didn’t. All she felt was need. All consuming, brain altering need that was threatening to burn her entire life to the ground.

“So wet for daddy.” He cooed, rubbing rough circles into her clit as his lips trailed down to her neck. “Is my dirty little slut turned on knowing anyone could see me taking what’s mine right now?” And that guilt roared to life as a prickling arousal that pulsed in her veins. His fingers were a live wire, making her squirm and buck in his arms, incapable of thinking clearly enough to know if she wanted more or less.

“Don’t stop, fuck, please…” Was all she could manage. He didn’t miss a beat as he kept his thumb circling her tiny bundle of nerves while sliding two fingers down her folds and plunging them past her entrance. “Shit!” Her knees wobbled beneath her and he steadied her with the arm around her hips. Head lolling back onto his shoulder, her lips parted in a series of breathy moans as he fucked his fingers into her, pressure building low in her belly right where the guilt used to be.

“Does your boyfriend touch you this good, sweetheart?” He rut his scarcely contained erection against her ass in time with his fingers and her eyes rolled back. His lips latched onto the thin skin of her throat, leaving unmistakable proof of their sins. “Does he know that if I move my fingers just…like…this…” he hooked his fingers up, stroking the spongy spot deep inside her, his thumb jamming on her clit, and her legs gave out completely. “That you’ll cum, shaking and sobbing my name in less than 10…9…8…” He kept up a demanding pace, arm around her waist the only thing keeping her upright.

“Fuck, daddy, please. I’mmmmmmm-Aaaaa!” Her pleas were cut short by a trembling cry, the pressure in her belly swelling beyond control. Fingers in his hair clawing at his scalp as he stretched her with a third finger sliding inside.

“5…4…3…”

Stroking faster and faster, he wound her right to a shaking, long overdue edge just before he pulled his fingers out, and she crumpled in his arms, reeling from the loss. Her wracked whimper would have, under any other circumstance, made her wither away in embarrassment but she was too far gone for that.

“You don’t deserve to come yet.” His voice was an icy rasp against her ear before he tutted, the arm around her waist snaked up across her chest. “Nooo, brat. If you want to come, you’re gonna have to beg for it.”

“Maaaaax.” She whined, rutting desperately against his hand, and he slapped her swollen, sensitive cunt.

“Tell me how bad you need it.” He demanded, ghosting the tip of his finger over her lips. “Tell me how bad you need me.” His other hand deftly slipped inside the cup of her dress, capturing her nipple between two fingers and rolling it until she arched into it.

“Fuck, Max, please. Pleeeeease. I need you, please let me come. Please, I’ll be a good girl.” She was well past the point of preserving pride, the disjointed string of pleas fumbling past her lips without bothering to run it past her brain. Max’s cock ached against her, already struggling to not instantly give her anything she asked for. “Please I’ll do anything just pleeease. Touch me, Max.” And he simply had to oblige. His fingers set a frenzied pace, strumming across her clit almost violently, and she bowed toward it, body strung high and tight in an instant.

“Tell me I’m better than him.” He snarled, nipping at her earlobe and she shuttered a sigh.

“W-what?” She stumbled and he mocked her, not letting up on his fingers’ pace.

“W-w-w-wha- you heard me. Or did my fingers already fuck you stupid?” His voice sent a flutter rippling through her core, quickly winding her back to the edge. “Are there any thoughts left in this pretty little head?” He tweaked her nipple and her body trembled, squirming in his grip as her consciousness started to feel floaty. “Aww what? Daddy’s little slut already ready to come?” His fingers strummed relentlessly and she was hurtling dangerously close to a place where she wouldn’t be able to stop the earth shattering orgasm that was looming at the edges of her vision. “Come on then, sweetheart. Tell me what we both already know. You can feel so good, beautiful, you just need to tell me how much better I am than your pathetic slimy boyfriend.” His lips latched around her neck and her mind floated so high above her head she couldn’t remember how she’d ever formulated a sentence before. “Trust me, Riley. You don’t want to come without permission. Do you remember the last time you did that?”

And the image was crystal clear in her mind, even if she couldn’t remember how her voice worked. It was impossible to forget that night or the torturous stupor that followed when he tied her to his bed with a vibrator and left for wrestling training. She was so delirious and overstimulated when he returned that she would have followed him off a cliff.

“Max, please, please, I can’t hold it any more, please.” The words that escaped didn’t feel like her voice anymore and she couldn’t hear the music filling her living room or see the strangers that surrounded them on all sides. All that existed in that moment was Max and his fingers, practically vibrating against her with how quickly he was moving them. Her whole body was drawn so taut, she wasn’t sure she could breathe without toppling into oblivion.

“Then say it. Tell me nobody else can touch you like this. Tell me nobody else can get you off like this.” But she was nearly gone, just a series of fractured curses leaving her lips like a prayer to get her through and Max growled, slapping her tit, then her cunt. “Or should I stop now?” He threatened and the last remnants of her brain panicked, tugging at his hair, desperate for an intact brain cell.

“No, god, please, don’t stop, daddy. Please, fuck, you’re everything. Please let me come, please, you’re better than Jonah. Please, please, you touch me better than him, you fuck me better than him. Nobody else can make me come like you, fuck, pleeeeeeeease!” There was no controlling the stream of begging that flowed from her mouth. Max bucked hard against her ass, squeezing her chest hard enough to leave a bruise, in an attempt to contain the pulsing pleasure that roared through him with her desperate voice.

“That’s my good girl. Now come for me. Soak my fingers, slut. Let go. Now.” His fingers didn’t falter, and she didn’t last another second, her entire body quaking on command as she gushed over his fingers. The room spun, her walls pulsing and squeezing around his fingers as he coaxed her through every last delicious second of her orgasm. “That’s it, sweetheart. So good for me.” He cooed, gently winding her down but not letting up on his grip around her waist.

Her brain slowly floated back down into her body, settling into him for every last second she could get, finally becoming cognizant of the fact that fog machine had been turned off and the haze that had obscured them was fading. Max finally withdrew his fingers, bringing them straight to his mouth where he moaned at the taste.

“Always so fucking sweet, Ry.” He said as he pulled them out of his mouth, reaching around to press them against her lips. She didn’t hesitate to let them sink all the way down until she was nearly gagging on them, her hand clinging to his wrist that was pulling out of her top, threading snugly around her waist. “Tastes like I was right.” She nipped at the thick digits until he withdrew them, glancing back over her shoulder at him with a starry gaze.

“Do I look undressed to you?” She drawled and the Cheshire grin that stretched across his face made her legs clench together.

“Not yet.”

He spun her around, dragging her into a heated, demanding kiss that she lost herself in for a minute. But the fog was all but cleared and her need was much greater than could be sated in the middle of this crowd, so when he pulled away, fingers trailing down her arm until they could curl around her hand, she didn’t hesitate. Maybe she should have; maybe she should have stopped the bleeding there. But if she was already going to hell, a detour to heaven didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

So she let him lead her up the stairs, sparing a look back at her with a hint of nerves he hoped she didn’t notice. Because whether she was running away from Jonah, or running back to him, he couldn’t afford to mess it up. For better or worse, this was a line they’d never crossed before and he wasn’t sure how this part played out. He’d always figured he could get her to if he tried but he’d never pulled the trigger. But he knew there was always still time to screw it up.

But when they rounded the top of the stairs, she pressed him against the wall, just out of view of the crowd downstairs but still very much exposed, and any stray nerves he had dissipated. He wasn’t convincing her anymore; she had made a decision. And that decision included dropping to her knees where she stood, not wasting a minute before skillfully unbuckling his belt. Max tried valiantly not to moan the moment her hand brushed his cock through his slacks. Fuck, this was going to be embarrassingly short.

He watched as her fingers deftly undid his slacks, his hand tangling up in her hair. She looked up at him as she slid the zipper down, wetting her lips and making him swallow hard. Palming him through his boxers, she watched the way his face twitched right alongside his cock. Lips curling up at the corner, she dragged her palm back down the length and leaned in, making a show of licking the tip through the fabric. His fingers tightened as a breath hissed through his teeth.

"Don't fuckin' tease, sweetheart." The rumble of his voice went straight to her core and she bit down on her lip as she spared another look up at him, thumbing over the waistband of his boxers. She dragged it down, painfully slow, until she freed him, erection bobbing in her face. Nimble fingers slid around the base, squeezing lightly and making his head fall back. She leaned in and traced the tip of her tongue from the base up to the tip of his cock, swirling around it before pulling back. A quiet groan vibrated through his chest, slipping toward a whine when she started flicking her tongue over the tip. His hand in her hair pushed her closer to what he needed desperately but she resisted, continuing with her teasing. "Riley..." It was a warning she had no intention of heeding.

"Yes, Maxie?" She batted her lashes at him and swirled the flat of her tongue around the tip of his cock, around and around, then just another feather light flit across the tip. Max let out a guttural noise before using his grip in her hair to flip her back against the wall. Looming over her, he rested his free hand against the wall behind her and a nervous desire built in the pit of her stomach.

"See, and here I thought you were gonna be a good girl." His grip in her hair loosened as he slid down to her chin. Rubbing his thumb over her lips, he tutted. "Should have known, my poor sweet girls not had her throat properly abused in months." Her eyes widened as his thumb slipped inside her mouth. "Next time, just ask for it, babe. You know I can't say no to you." His thumb not-so-delicately pried her mouth open wide before he eased the tip of his cock in, giving shallow little thrusts. She held his gaze, complying with his grip as he rocked his hips forward until he hit the back of her throat. Her hands flew up to his thighs, steadying herself as she gagged, and Max held his position, deeply seated until she was struggling to breathe. He twitched in her mouth and groaned, pulling all the way out, leaving a string of drool drawn out between them, and Riley gasping for air.

Squatting down until his face was level with hers, he smoothed a hand over her cheek, meeting her eyes steadily. She launched toward him, desperate for anything she could get. He indulged her for a few moments longer than he meant to, tearing away to stand up to his full height.

"Hands behind your back, brat. Lets see if you see remember how to take a throat fucking."

Riley held his gaze as she neatly clasped her hands low behind her back, tongue trailing along the edge of her teeth. Max pumped a fist over his cock, looking down at her with a blistering heat before yanking her hair so her head lightly knocked the wall, and her mouth fell open in a pant. Seizing the opportunity, Max slid right back into her mouth, holding her back against the wall as she attempted to bob up and down. Bending his knees, he rocked up into her mouth, urging past another inch, then another, and she struggled not to gag on it. He chuckled darkly, giving a few more shallow thrusts.

“What? Can’t handle a cock this big anymore?” He gave one more shallow thrust before surging all the way forward until every inch of him was driven down her throat. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you remember how.” He held his place until her throat relaxed around him and he eased back out and in. Groaning, he slowly worked up a rhythm, holding her head firmly against the wall. “That’s it. Such a good little slut for daddy.” His thrusts got sharper and his free arm rested against the wall. He grunted with each hard thrust down her throat, breathing labored and pressure building. Spit dripped down his legs as he fucked her mouth against the wall. His balls constricted and he groaned loud enough for everyone downstairs to hear. Riley hummed around his length and his entire body trembled, giving a few more jerky thrusts deep into her throat before spilling over the edge. “Fuck, fuck, baby, that’s it, fuck. Good girl, such a good fucking girl for me, fuck.”

Her cheeks hollowed and his fist clenched against the wall. Shaky hand still anchored in her hair, held her in place as his hips stuttered to an end until he finally pulled out. Heaving a breath, he squatted back down in front of her, taking her cheeks between his fingers, and she stuck her tongue out like they’d never missed a beat. Drawing his lips in, Max spit directly into her open mouth and she curled her tongue up and in, ensuring she got every bit before licking her lips.

“That’s my filthy little slut.” He cooed, his hands snaking behind her knees, scooping her up off her feet. Her limbs curled around him as he fumbled to get them into the privacy of her guest room and it’s closed door. “Welcome back, I missed ya.”

Kicking it closed behind him, he tossed her down onto the bed, crawling over her, warm palms guiding her legs apart. They melted aside for him as his hands slid past her thighs, pushing her dress up alongside them. She watched, propped up on her elbows as he bunched the fabric up over her hips, exposing her butchered tights and the soaked panties beneath, and she squirmed. His teeth skimmed down the length of her thigh, ribbing the tights until he reached exposed skin. Hand curled around the thick of her thigh, he sank his teeth into the skin and her hips bucked up towards his face with a squeal. Sucking until he was certain it would leave a sufficient mark, he soothed his tongue over it and hovered up past her hips, hands taking in every inch he could touch on his way up. His face pressed into her cleavage, he wound his hands behind her back, dragging the zipper down as far as it would go. Scooting up high enough to pepper kisses over her neck, his fingers deftly pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders, one at a time. She went to bury her fingers in his hair but before she could get a grip, he slipped back off the foot of the bed.

Riley met his eyes steadily, lips parted with her shuttered breathing, the intense, unrelenting need on his face making her squeeze her thighs together. Max grabbed one then two ankles and yanked her down toward the end of the bed, her legs spread around his hips. Fingers trailing up both legs, he reached for the bottom of her dress and shimmied it down her body. She cooperated, lifting her hips to help him get it under her and he tossed it aimlessly behind him. Then, taking a step back, his eyes raked, impossibly slow, over every exposed inch he had been craving so badly these past few months. He’d missed the constellation of freckles that dotted the space between her bra and her panties and he’d missed the way her chest turned red when she was turned on and he missed this particular set she was wearing. It only took a second before it dawned on him that she had bought this lacy set of lingerie on a shopping trip with him last year. It was hard to forget this set and he was hard pressed to believe she didn’t know what she was doing when she put it on.

“Now, Riley, you know what happened last time you wore this around me…” his eyes made an obvious path over the practically sheer fabric that was providing a view that made his chest ache. Riley bat her lashes and trailed a finger down into the cleft of her tits, then drawing it back up to her lips where she bit the tip.

“I don’t remember you doing anything especially memorable last Sunday…” She tapped her fingernail on her bottom lip, hair splayed out on the mattress beneath her. Max’s brow furrowed for a moment, realizing she was letting him know she’d worn this when she stayed over his house last week and they got wasted on jello shots. That night would have gone down much differently if he had known that at the time.

“You put this on to come get drunk at my house?” He tutted and she drew up on her elbows toward him but he pressed her back down with one hand on her chest, allowing it to drift down and grope her through the delicate fabric. “That why you kept leaning over in that low cut shirt?” Her back arched to get more but he slapped the exposed skin of her chest and she settled back down. “Were you hoping I’d spot this little number down your shirt and be so overcome with need,” fingers dug painfully hard into her skin, “that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from ripping your clothes off right there?” He watched the color creep up her chest and his hips rut into her crotch without thought. Riley’s eyes rolled back with a sigh, rolling her hips towards his the best she could, and he responded by grinding hard against her clit, only the thin fabric between them. “Is that what you were hoping for tonight? You wanted me to see a peak of this lace and not be able to stop until I’d completely ruined this cunt?” Her head craned up, meeting his eyes with a loaded expression. Trouble layered behind shame that was all drowned out by desire.

“What if I did?” She raised and his eyes scorched over her body, his hands moving faster than she could track, snaking around her ass and yanking her up to meet his hips at just the right angle. Her head fell back down with a curse.

“Well that would have been a very naughty thing to do.” He lowered her hips back down to the mattress and let both hands scrub up past her hips and stomach, then back down to grip the tops of her thighs. His thumbs swiped over the exposed skin surrounding the torn edges of her tights. “I think you’d leave me no choice but to rip these beautiful panties right off you. Make sure they can never be used in any more of your dastardly plans.” He tore her tights further up to her hips and she wiggled them, teeth raking over her bottom lip. Max held her eye as his fingers curled around the delicate lace waistband of her panties, digging his thumb into the material until he felt the fabric give just a smidge and then strained his arms, tearing straight through. Riley’s chest heaved with anticipation, watching him closely as he tossed them aside.

“And what would you do with me then?” She prodded, her feet toying with the waist of his pants that were barely hanging on without being buttoned. He shifted so they fell to the floor and she doubled her efforts to get his boxers down. He let them slip off, stepping out of them, already fully hard for her again, and leaned completely over her, large hand sliding up the side of her neck and into her hair. She wet her lips, his face so close to hers that the motion nearly touched him.

“Well then I’d probably have to teach you a lesson about being careful what you wish for.” He dragged his cock through her folds and they each let out a hiss, blood pounding in his ears.

“God, please. Teach me a lesson, Max.” There was no grace left in her raked over plea, no shame, no guilt, no hesitation. All she had left was the desperate pull towards him and the way the feel of him was lighting her up from the inside.

“If you insist…” but he kept up the teasing drag through her folds, tip of his cock nudging against her entrance more than once before delving back through her folds. He ground the crown into her clit and she squirmed on the bed.

“Maaaaaax. Don’t tease.” But she watched the wicked smirk that curled around his face as he circled around her.

“And why shouldn’t I? You’ve been teasing me for seven months now. Seems only fair.” He slipped down to prod at her entrance, then dragged back up through her folds, and she squirmed. “I should strap you to the headboard with my belt and tease you until you’re crying, begging for my cock.” Without a warning, his hand came down with a sharp slap to her swollen cunt. Riley squealed, her hands grasping desperately at the sheets to dispel the sting that was radiating through her. Then his strong grip wrapped around her hips, lifting them so he was level with her, soothing the tip back against the ache in her core. “Luckily for you, I don’t have the patience for that.”

And before she could even start to formulate a response, he slipped down and slammed in to the hilt, supporting the way her back arched. He stilled, completely buried inside, his cock twitching at the familiar warmth, and her legs wound around his waist. Holding her hips still, he slid out to the tip, then all the way back in, watching her fingers curl in the sheets beneath her with a cry. Her walls clenched tight around him and he couldn’t hold back another second, quickly slipping into an aggressive pace. He’d missed it too much and he needed to be drowning in that feeling right that instant. His hands on her hips slid down her thighs, urging her legs up onto his shoulders.

Riley’s moans filled the room and she couldn’t be bothered to contain them. It didn’t matter that just below them was an entire dance floor of strangers, her boyfriend, and her boyfriends boss. It didn’t matter that Max didn’t lock the door or that her boyfriend was certain to be done dancing by now. Or that the party was probably winding to a close soon. She was lost to him and, at this point, didn’t want to be found. She could have disappeared into him forever in that moment and only been grateful.

So when he leaned down between her legs, stretching them back, to pull her into a blistering kiss, she let it wash her away. Her leg slipped off one shoulder as their kiss deepened and his cock drove harder into her. Their moans spilled out between kisses and pressure quickly mounted in her belly.

“Fuck, Max, please! Harder, fuck!” Her cries were practically incoherent as her hammered into her. She buried her fingers in his hair, tugging as he shifted his hips to drive into the perfect spot.

“You gonna come for me already, Ry? You been missin’ the way my cock makes you fall apart?” He let her other leg fall from his shoulder, one hand tangling in her hair as the other gripped tight on her face, holding her just a breath from his own. She nodded, mouth gaped open as she hurtled toward her breaking point. Max could feel her fluttering around him and raked his teeth over her bottom lip before steeling his breath and pulling out completely. Her taut body deflated beneath him, pussy clenching around nothing, desperate for the release it had been deprived of. “Too bad. Flip over.” He swatted her ass from below, taking a full step back, waiting for her stop blinking back at him and flip to her stomach.

The moment she finally gathered her brain back enough to move, he was back pressed against her from behind, hands squeezing brutally into her hips. His hand slid up her back until they met the edge of her bra and he deftly unhooked it before urging the straps off her shoulders. Riley sighed into the mattress as his rough hands rubbed up and down her spine, squirming slightly with the tickle. His fingers wormed into her hair before curling up tight and yanking back. She let out a breath of a moan, back arching to reduce the pull on her hair, and his other arm wound up her bare chest, holding her flush against his chest. His lips scattered kisses across her neck before landing by her ear, his breath raising goosebumps all down her spine.

“You’re looking pretty undressed to me now, brat.” He hissed into her ear, the hand in her hair drifting down to settle around her throat, and she rocked back against him. She hummed an agreement as his foot nudged her legs further apart. “Got any more doubts about how well I know this body that you’d like to voice?” He bent his knees, angling his hips so he notched against her entrance again, and he squeezed the sides of her throat for emphasis. She shook her head. “No? Nothing to say now? Mm, that’s what I thought.” Without another moment, he speared up into her and she cried out, hands flying back to grip in his hair.

He re-started with a punishing pace, impaling her with his cock and stretching her to her limit. Her nails dug into his skin, holding on the best she could as he decimated her senses. He kneaded her chest with the hand that wasn't wrapped tight around her throat. The wracked cries that were spilling from her lips drove him harder.

"Does your boyfriend fuck you this good?" Max snarled against her ear. All she could manage was a squeak of his name. "Does he stretch your tight little cunt like he was made for you?" The way she pulsed around him was plenty answer but he wasn't satisfied. Releasing his grip on her throat, he shoved her face back down into the mattress, raking his nails down her back before he took hold of her hips and hammered into her from behind. "Does he fuck you til there's not a single thought left in this pretty head?"

Riley bit down into the mattress to stifle her moans as they spiraled out of control. His hand collided with her ass with a sound that reverberated around the room and sent a red hot sting straight to her core. She jolted with the force of it but he quickly fired off another three slaps to the rapidly forming welts and she gripped the sheets, tangling them between her fingers. He soothed a palm over the angry skin, his thrusts slower and more purposeful, allowing her catch her breath before he wound back to deliver a slap so sharp it made her knees buckle and her walls pulse around him.

"Shit! Max!" She screamed into the blankets, muffled and broken as she tried to meet his thrusts but her legs were shaking too hard to move the way she wanted. The edges of her vision began to blur, pressure building low in her gut. "Please, fuck, more more more, please, daddy i'm so close." Max leaned down over her, hand slipping between her hips and the mattress until he landed on her swollen bundle of nerves. He drew rapid circles over her and she panted beneath him, the weight of his body draped over her intoxicating, his scent familiar and electrifying every last nerves in her body.

"Yeah? You wanna come, baby? You wanna soak this fucking cock?" His hoarse whisper in her ear was stripping away the last shred of control she had. Every bit of her skin was tingling, flushed and barely her own.

"Please, Max, please I need it please let me come." The battered voice that came out felt completely alien, a sound that was merely reflexive as her brain was ten miles outside the atmosphere.

"Not yet." He said, and she came crash landing back to Earth when he pulled out completely without warning, stepping back, her body shaking from the loss.

“Maaaaaax, fuck!” She whined, squirming against the mattress, desperate for the last bit of friction she needed. Max stilled her with a slap to the furiously red skin on her ass. He took another step away and reached down to unbutton his shirt. Riley dragged her exhausted body up into the bed and rolled onto her back. “You’re killing me. Why do you hate me so much?” She pouted and Max mirrored her, letting his shirt drop to the floor before stalking towards her.

“Aww, come on sweetheart, you know you’re my favorite girl.” He climbed up onto the mattress after her and she scooted her way back toward the pillows. Stalking after her, she settled into the soft bedding, her legs drifting apart as he nestled between them, pulling her straight into a languorous kiss. After getting lost for a few moments, she pulled back starry eyed.

“Better than Samantha?” And she tried unsuccessfully to hide the jealousy in her voice. Max stroked a knuckle over her cheek, supporting his weight with his other arm.

“Better than anyone, Riley.” He held her gaze for a few lingering seconds in a way that told a story of a million years of things left unsaid. But it was too big and this wasn't the time for it, so instead he kissed her until she was breathless, then slid back inside her warmth. Her lips parted in a gasp, allowing his tongue to sweep into her mouth, and her arms wound tight around his torso. He rolled his hips in slow, steady thrusts and her fingers dug into his skin, legs snaking around him. Her nails grazed up into his hair and his head lolled into it, inadvertently picking up his pace when she tugged. Shuttering a sigh, his lips trailed down her neck, nestling his face into her. "Fuck, I've missed you."

"I missed you too." The words fell breathless from her lips as Max sucked hard at her throat, sure to leave another mark that her brain wasn't functional enough to find a problem with. Her nails raked from his hair, down the length of his back, raising a series of red lines in their wake, and he groaned, hips moving a little sharper and starting a low building pressure that spanned the length of her body. As his hips built toward a snap, the pressure rose steadily, echoing in her veins. "Fuck, Max..."

"That's it, beautiful, feel good to be back where you belong?" He whispered against her collarbone before sucking another mark into her skin. Rocking into her, he dragged his hips to create friction over her clit and she arched beneath him. Her hips chased his and he wound an arm around her back, the other moving to her ass, gripping her tight as he rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. The pressure in her bobbed with the change, arms coming out to support herself but he quickly gathered her wrists together, pinning them against her back and plastering her against him. Holding her steady, he set a less forgiving pace, hammering into her from below. “Do you think your boyfriend knew you were always gonna end up right back here?” He demanded, the new position stroking against just the right spot inside her.

She buried her face into the crook of his neck, biting down hard as he fucked up into her, the mounting pressure of this evening expanding into every last nook and cranny of her body until her brain was forced out completely. Her moans filled the room, even muffled by his neck, but the stream of pleaded words was all together unintelligible. But Max didn't need to hear any real words to understand the way her walls were beginning to pulse around him. She was close and well beyond self control, but he wasn't ready to be done and he knew that if she came right now, he wouldn't be able to last.

"Don't come yet." It was a base growl, pulled between strained teeth, and it only made her toes curl. She let out a hitched whimper, bouncing against him with every rapid fire thrust. Every muscle in her body tensed in an attempt to hold the line but she could feel the tide of her body receding from the shore with a magnetic pull, building into the monster tsunami that was headed straight for her. Her body trembled against his, walls constricting around him, only getting worse when his free hand collided with her ass. "Not yet." But he couldn't stop the violent pace he'd set, caught up in the pull of her tide. Tears streamed down her face unconsciously, blurring her mascara and a hiccup of a cry wracked through her chest.

"Max, please, I can't take it, please let me come, pleeeease, don't stop. I need you, please." The wave was rushing at her faster than she could contain, fingers dug into her palms as she fought his grip fruitlessly. Max felt his balls constrict with the desperation in her voice, and pulled her forehead to his with a hand on the back of her head. He held her gaze, fingers wrapped in her hair so close to the scalp that it stung.

"Admit it was about me." He hissed, a breath away from her lips that were hung open in a noiseless cry. "Admit you only started dating him to make me jealous and I'll let you come." And this time she didn't hesitate because this time she couldn't even seem to remember her boyfriend's name.

"Yes, fuck, it was you, Max!" She cried out, brain puttering to get to where she needed as pinpricks swept her skin. "It was about you. I was making you jealous, I didn't fucking care about him, fuck, please, please let me come, please!" And his head knew it didn't matter - that she would have said anything to get what she needed at that moment - but his body didn't seem to know the difference, hips stuttering as he pulled her into a needy, possessive kiss, the tidal wave looming over both their heads.

"Come for me, Riley. Soak this cock for me, let me feel how much you missed this." It was a demand that Riley didn't need to wait another second for, wave crashing down onto their shores and knocking them both off their feet. They clung to each other, sweating and shaking, as her walls squeezed tight around him, her high pitched, wrecked cry a noise that he would never forget as she flooded his cock. His hips jerked, riding out the last few loaded seconds, his nails dug into her skin before he snapped, burying himself as deep as he could go, his hot release spilling inside her.

They writhed against each other, savoring the breathless hum that had enveloped them, their bodies weak and energy spent. Max slowly released his grip on her hands, hand on the back of her head pulling her just an inch closer so he could brush the sweat matted hair out of her face and press a kiss to the top of her head. She let out a contented sigh, settling into his warmth while her brain navigated its way back to her from outer space. His fingers trailed hypnotically up and down her spine, raising goosebumps across her skin. He never wanted to move from that spot, the need to keep her that close forever was staggering and, frankly, a little scary.

He didn't know what came next - this was uncharted territory. But she still had a boyfriend and that made this a little rockier than the usual transition from boyfriend back into his arms. He could feel the ominous shifting in their lives that came from their choices tonight and not all the potential outcomes were favorable for him. The chances that she would regret this suddenly felt suffocatingly high as he realized what a colossal mess he had made. He never meant to get that carried away tonight. His heart leapt to his throat as she finally lifted her exhausted body off him, rolling to sit on the edge of the bed, leaving him feeling particularly cold.

"Where do you think you're going, punk?" He leaned forward to grab her hand but slowed when he saw the hollow look on her face. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. She quickly turned away from him but he surged forward, forcing her to look at him. "Hey, Ry..." She slowly met his eyes, chewing her lip as reality seemed to crash down around her. His chest ached, watching the thoughts whirling around her mind, and pulled her back against his chest. Melting into him, she let his arms squeeze tight around her, her head tucked beneath his chin, and she closed her eyes.

She couldn't pretend she hadn't known exactly what she was doing. There was no defense. She had made a million calculated decisions, right down to a skimpy red dress, and it had made her feel spectacularly alive but now all she felt was numb. What was she supposed to do now? Her stomach turned at the thought of trying to keep this from Jonah. Then it turned again at the thought of telling Max she was going to pretend this never happened. His hand soothed over her back and she drew in a shaky breath.

"Look, don't beat yourself up, alright. He's not exactly a great guy..." He offered but she scoffed, stilling in his arms.

"Please don't..."

"Well, I mean he told me I should take you for a spin so he could - "

"Max-"

"I'm just saying, he's - "

"Well stop." She finally tore out of his arms, clambering off the bed. Max watched her scrub her hands over her face, struck. Then she set back about finding her clothes, scattered across the floor. The guilt that ripped through her stomach was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Gathering her clothes up into her arms, she finally she met his eye. "Please, just knock it off. It's not Jonah's fault that I..." She blew out a breath and shook her head.

"Riley..." Max held a hand out to her but she only took a step back. Her lips twitched before she steeled her face and pulled it into a carefully trained expression that she prayed didn't give the impression that she wanted to cry. This was what she choose; she didn't get to cry about it. But she was feeling a few too many emotions at once and it was knocking the air out of her chest.

"It's fine. Don't look at me like that. I'm fine." She busied herself with pulling her bra back on, knowing full well he wasn't going to stop watching her with those same concerned puppy dog eyes.

"Then where are you going? Come on." He moved up onto his knees at the edge of the bed, trying to lure her back but she didn't glance his way as she pulled that same tight dress back over her body, panties in tatters on the floor. She traced a finger over the rips in her tights that were now visible down below her dress and swallowed hard.

"To deal with the party that's going on in my living room." She said it like a reminder and but Max didn't falter.

"Screw them, stay here with me. Riley, please, it's been a long night, just come to bed." And his extended hand was mightily tempting. She hesitated for just a moment, weighing him before her eyes flicked to the door and she shook her head.

"No. No, I need to go." She said, eyes doing a final sweep of the floor to make sure she hadn't missed anything but then snapped back to meet his. "Besides, you have a date you should probably say goodnight to." His chest constricted at the pain in her voice; pain that he caused.

"Riley-"

"Please," She practically begged and he sat back on his heels, "I just need a minute. Stay here tonight if you want, I know its late." Swallowing hard, she waited to see if he pushed back but when he didn't she plowed through. "We can talk tomorrow. I just need to think, okay?" Deflated, Max nodded, brow knitted with a tight frown. She offered a smile so slight he almost didn't catch it before taking a few decided steps towards him. "Thank you. I promise, we're good, I just..."

"...Need time to think. I get it," He finished for her, letting the frown crack, "Just can't think straight with me around." Rolling his eyes at his own joke, he watched the gentle smile settle over her face. Leaning in, she gave him a quick, apologetic kiss before backing her way towards the door. He waved her off and she lingered for just a moment, bracing herself for the world beyond this door.

Max geared up to make one final attempt at convincing her to stay but in a blink, she slipped out the door and left him to the quiet. With a huff, he threw himself back on the mattress. He scrubbed his hands over his face and raked them back into his hair with a groan. Timing was his greatest enemy and he was tired of feeling like he was losing the battle.

_

Finally collapsing into her bed, Riley pulled a pillow over her face, nearly ready to suffocate under the weight of her life and bad decision making. She had finally managed to usher the crowd of strangers out of her living room and tucked Jonah in under a blanket on her couch where he had passed out cold. Grateful for the quiet solitude of her room, she slowly pulled the pillow off her face and took a deep breath.

The ground beneath her felt like it was moving and, as much as she had desperately wanted change for her life, this was never how she wanted to get it. Her chest rose and fell was steady breaths and she stared up at texture on her ceiling, tracing invisible patterns and trying to pretend she didn't need to make a painful decision. She wasn't sure how to make that decision when she didn't know what she wanted, though.

But that wasn't entirely true. Her chest ached, the truth ringing through her skull, blaring an unwanted siren she couldn't stomach. She knew exactly what she wanted. She knew exactly where she wanted to be and who she wanted next to her but that wasn't something she could have. Max was her best friend and maybe he was more but none of it amounted to anything because he didn't want her like that. She knew he cared about her but she also knew that this game they played was all he could offer. The thought turned her stomach and she squeezed her eyes shut, curling onto her side in the middle of her empty bed.

The pain radiating in her chest was strong enough to start the sting behind her eyes but she refused to let the tears come. Instead, she pulled the blanket up tight to her chin and bit down hard on her lip until the feeling subsided. She didn't have time to devolve over that. When she woke up in the morning, she was going to have to face the consequences of all the lines crossed tonight and she needed to know what that looked like. So she spent the night, tossing and turning and stewing in her guilt and self pity, praying that by tomorrow night, her life would look different. It had to. There was no turning back now.

________________________________________________

Beta Read by @daddyhausen

Tags: @fvckingromantic @omg-im-such-a-masochist @smallestsnarkestgirl @wrestlingwhore

#MJF smut #MJF fanfiction #MJF fanfic #AEW fic #AEW fanfiction #wrestling fic #AEW smut #MJF x OFC #mjf x reader

[majesticwren]

fallingforyou (MJF x OFC)

following this post this concept is now a fic, sorry not sorry. I'm struggling trust me. (help me)

Trigger Warning/s: slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, depiction of toxic relationships, intimacy and commitment problems, childhood traumas, jealousy, possessiveness, hints of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, hints of anti-semitism, everyone is a walking red flag, angst, fluff, smut.

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Chapter 1.

Seventeen Years Ago

At only eleven, Stella wasn’t a stranger to walking herself home from school and she already knew what it meant to pick the safest route and be weary of dangerous-looking alleys.

It happened often that she would decide to walk home alone after school. She liked the time she could spend alone, lost in her own thoughts, experiencing the world being no one.

It wasn’t because she despised the bus – well, she did a bit, just like any unpopular, weird kid who would be picked on. Nor it was because of her parents’ neglect. Actually, she had her own personal car and a designated driver taking her to and from school every day. But the fact was simple, she didn’t like that privilege, nor anything about the life she had and the way she was brought up.

Plus, running away gave her an adrenaline rush like no other and she was already addicted to it even when she was so young, and because she was so young, she didn’t care about the consequences.

It was then, in a late September afternoon, as she walked across the main street, that she felt something was out of place.

Just around the corner, into an alley that led to the back of one of the known quirky shops on one side and a bakery on the other, in the heart of town, she saw an abandoned, ripped-open blue backpack. A couple of books and a few sheets of paper were scattered all over the black, dirty pavement.

She could have kept walking. She should have, so it had been taught to her, to be detached and doubtful of anything she didn’t know or understand. She could so clearly hear her mother’s words echo in her mind.

But her curiosity won over her better judgement.

She looked around, to make sure nothing suspicious was happening anywhere else and then, once her surroundings were clear, she moved on tiptoes, as quiet as a cat, getting through the alley.

Inspecting the crime scene, she noticed a couple of broken pencils and ripped pieces of paper bearing the notes of what looked so clearly the messy handwriting of a young boy. And then she heard the noises. Suffocated sobs of one were overpowered by the aggressive groans and laughter of a group, mixed with other noises that sounded like feet dragging on the tarmac and irregular thuds.

Turning slowly to face the end of the alley, her curiosity won over her once more. Her heart was pounding in her chest and the familiar fizz of adrenaline burning through her veins made it impossible for her to backtrack.

Stella lowered herself and, siding a bin, she peaked into the small, deserted area in the back of the shop. There was a group of boys, they seemed older than her and they were kicking something. At first, she thought it was a garbage bag, only after she realised it was another boy.

“Look how the Jew cries,” laughed one of the boys, kicking the one curled up on the ground even harder, “he sure squeals like a pig.” His friends laughed cruelly following his example, calling the boy a pig. No one seemed willing to stop any time soon.

Stella was witnessing something horrendous and scary. Something dark and hateful that she would have never thought of knowing, and yet, even despite being shaking in her boots, she didn’t let her fear make her become indifferent.

She was only eleven and yet she knew already to be a fighter.

She stood up straight, her hand closing around a wooden plank left in the corner by a broken crate. Now branding a weapon, she charged the boys. She felt unafraid and free.

Stella hit the biggest one in the back once, “Stupid nazis,” she hissed in pure spite, not at all comprehending the full meaning of her own words. She hit the boy twice, and then she quickly turned towards the one who tried to stop her and hit him in the stomach.

As the group broke off their assault on the young boy, she stepped over him in a protective pose, ready to attack the moment one of the others got too close to her again.

“The Jew has a girlfriend!” They tried to scorn them, laughing like idiots would to a joke that didn’t make sense nor was funny.

“I will make you bleed,” she hissed, pointing her weapon towards them. Not that she knew what it meant but she had seen it in the movies.

That made them backtrack.

The biggest, clearly the leader of the group, pointed a finger at her. “You’ll regret crossing me. You better hope we won’t find you alone. And you, Jew,” he spat on the ground, “we won’t forget this,” he mocked the oink noise of a pig, “We’ll get you.”

She didn’t lower her weapon or her proud gaze until the group of bullies ran off.

Once alone, she finally moved, looking down. The boy on the ground stayed curled up in a ball, shaking but quiet. Her heart ached. “Hey,” even despite the soft tone of her voice, he still flinched. Stella didn’t let that persuade her to try her best to help the boy, “They’ve left, you are safe now.”

“S-safe?” He finally mumbled, “You must be joking.” He laughed nervously, “They’ll come back.” He got up from the ground doing his best to brush the dirt off his clothes. His hands were shaky. “Tomorrow they’ll catch me and they’ll hurt me more. They’ll hang me to a pole.”

“Better not be alone then.” She still smiled at him, offering him a friendly hand.

She meant it. A promise that would be true from that day onwards, even when both the kids couldn’t know the consequences of their choices made that day.

“I’m Stella.”

“Maxwell.”

Present Day

Stella sat on a bench in Central Park, just by the Bow Bridge. Her gaze crossed the dark lake and over, to the colourful spectacle of the yellow and orange leaves burning bright for her on the other side of the bridge in that grey day.

There was truly nothing like New York in the Fall and she loved to soak it up entirely. The weather getting crisp and the scenery changing. Thrifting clothes, buying used books, and abusing an insane amount of pumpkin spice lattes, candles, sweet cakes, and anything that went with that flavour made her happy. Watching warm and fuzzy old rom-coms, cosying up on the sofa. It was like the line of one of her favourites “Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies”. And Halloween. Was there truly anything else to say? Fall was her favourite season and there was nowhere in the entire world where it could be any prettier.

Her attention had drifted away for a while, as she enjoyed her time alone.

Stella scrunched the paper napkin she held in her hands and threw it in the salad box she just finished and then, she took one last coffee sip before starting to gather her things. However a moment before getting up from the bench, she was distracted by her phone ringing.

“Hello?” She answered distractedly.

“You should really post that selfie you just sent me on Instagram.”

A soft, warm smile spread on her lips as soon as she recognised that familiar voice. “Shall I now, Friedman?” Stella leaned back against the bench, immediately dropping all her plans only to chat with him. “And you called me just to say that?”

“Well, I texted, but you weren’t replying.”

“You are making it sound like a crime, Maxwell.” She chuckled, shaking her head.

“It is a crime! Post it. You look like that nineties hottie that did shit loads of romantic comedies. It’s a crime not sharing it.”

“You gotta be more specific here. C’mon, I want to get the entire compliment,”

“Ok, hold on,” he was quiet for a moment, before gasping victorious. “Meg Ryan! There she is. You look like her.”

Stella gasped, “I was just thinking about her a moment ago!”

“See?”

“I don’t look like Meg Ryan! You are ridiculous!” She giggled shaking her head.

“I say you do. I know a thing or two about hot babes.”

Stella rolled her eyes, gently shaking her head. “Thank you, you know what? I’ll take it, I need it today.”

“Oh yeah? Bad day?”

“Not yet. I’m going to get on my way to drive down to Long Island in a minute.”

“Meeting your sister, right?”

“Yeah-” Stella released a soft, tired sigh. “Don’t get me wrong I want to see Jenna, it’s just-”

“Yeah,” somehow the gentleness of his tone made it sound like he was so much closer to her, instead of on the other line of a phone call. Oh, how she wished it. “Family time. I understand.”

“What about you?” She wondered trying to distract herself. She surely didn’t want to think about her family. “How’s Philly? What are you doing?”

“Just arrived. I’m going to get myself all pretty for my interview.”

Stella smiled, “That won’t take long then.”

“Oh, stop it. You know how I get with compliments,” he chuckled. “By the way, I like the new haircut, it suits you.”

Stella smiled, trying to hide her cheeks blushing as if Max stood right in front of her. “Yeah, you think?”

“Do I ever lie?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, fair enough,” he paused, “But I’m not lying to you.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, to the more pressing matter, how is it that you’re all alone? Weren’t you supposed to meet that loser?”

“Max please, play nice.” And yet, even despite her best efforts, the spite in his voice still made her heart flatter. She didn’t want to, but a selfish smile popped on her lips.

Max never liked any of her partners, and she dreaded the moment that it would change.

She was, in fact, supposed to meet for a quick lunch date with the new guy she had been seeing for the past few weeks, but it turned out he was late. Shame that she got to enjoy having some time to herself. Which, Stella thought, suited her better than the alternative.

She liked being alone. When she was alone, she felt free.

Maybe she should have started to consider the idea of being on her own for a while since her dating life was just miserable. She wondered why she did that to herself. It was always her fault, it’s not like she could be upset at her luck or the heavens, she was quite literally the problem. She would meet someone new, date for a few weeks, and quickly realise she wasn’t interested enough – or she would choose a guy who was as far as possible from her type on purpose, and it would always consequentially end up badly.

“Greg’s late,” she explained, “but I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do. I don’t like to know you’re alone.”

“Max, I’m ok, I promise.”

“That lack of disappointment and annoyance surprises me. You should be kicking off and complaining when it’s me that makes you wait-”

“You never do.”

“But, if I did, I wouldn’t hear the end of it,” he paused shortly, and she could picture him so well, in front of her, trying to read through her words, “You didn’t want to see him, did you?”

She huffed, there was nothing she could hide from him, ever. Unless it was something Max didn’t want to see. “Not entirely.” She cleared her voice, “we argued.”

“Again?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t news even if they started dating only a few weeks ago. It already happened enough times she knew there was nothing much to salvage in that situationship. And yet, it wasn’t time to break up with him.

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.” There weren’t words that could explain in detail how Greg just wasn’t the man for her. And the fact that she knew it was the problem. Yet she chose to stick with him because she liked to argue. It made her feel something. But not about Greg.

A tranquil silence fell between her and Max as they both just took a moment to enjoy each other company. It was easy to imagine he was sitting just next to her with an arm stretched over her shoulders enjoying the same view she was seeing.

“Stella!”

She gasped and her fantasy shattered as soon as she recognised being called from a short distance. Turning slowly, she saw Greg approaching her and a sad sigh left her chest. She didn’t want to spend time with him. Not really. She wanted to spend some time with the man on the other side of the phone. Though as soon as she realised the kind of thought she just had, Stella stuffed it away, deep inside her chest. “Hold on, Max.” She pushed out a smile. “Hi!”

“I am so sorry! I tried to get here as soon as I could.”

“It’s ok, don’t worry so much.”

“I do! You ate alone. Sorry.”

“Yeah, and,” she got up on her feet, “I will need to make a move in a minute.” Stella held her phone to her ear hooking it up with her shoulder and, although she freed her hands only to grab the trash she left behind on the bench, Greg took it as a hint to get close to her and steal an awkward kiss from her.

Nothing. She felt absolutely nothing as their lips brushed. Trapped between the soft grasp of his hands, as he tried desperately to get on an intimate level with her, Stella was just frozen.

He was an attractive enough guy, just not for her.

Greg’s charm did nothing to her. The way he smiled didn’t make her heart flatter. His scent didn’t drive her insane. She barely wanted to have his attention on her. And she found most of the things he had to say uninteresting. They had almost nothing in common. He often judged her interests, and she didn’t even care if he did it in a mean way or not. It didn’t matter. It was better that way. That’s the way she liked her relationships to be, so she could always be in control and keep people as far away as possible.

If there was nothing to like, she wouldn’t risk falling for them, right?

He was exactly the kind of guy her family would have approved of. And in all honesty, she didn’t even know what twisted thought process got her to the decision of giving him a chance when she was aware to hated everything about him just as much as she hated everything about her family and the world they both so clearly came from. Still, incidentally, that was the reason she didn’t let go. Her sister’s wedding was in a week, and she wanted to show up accompanied by someone she could have rubbed proudly in her parents' faces.

She wanted to think Greg didn’t deserve to be used like that and she knew she was supposed to feel horrible – but part of her wasn’t sure he was entirely a good guy. He was a bit of an ass at times. And he didn’t like Maxwell, so her guilt wasn’t at all scratched by her selfishness.

As to confirm her thoughts, Greg softly brushed his fingers on the edges of her freshly cut nineties-style bob. “I know it’s late to say it now, but you should definitely grow your hair back. This does nothing for you.”

Again, he could have told her the sky was grey and her reaction would have been the same.

The annoyed huff that came from the other side of the line, though, did make her feel something. “Prick.” Maxwell hissed. “I swear to God, I’ll fuck him up.” A small shiver crossed her back, as she realised Max was listening and probably wasn’t too happy about any of it.

“Sorry, one second,” she raised a hand in front of Greg’s face as if she was hinting at him to hold and then she took her phone back into her other hand, “Hey, Max, sorry babes, I need to go, Greg is here.”

“Sure thing, kitten. Call me later?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“You look hot. Don’t listen to him.”

“I won’t. Bye?”

“Bye, baby. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

As she hung up, the small smile she had printed on her lips was immediately wiped off by Greg’s expression. “Max?”

“Yeah,” she frowned investigating his crossed expression. “Why?”

“Didn’t you literally see him this morning?”

A sad sigh left her chest. She did, they met for breakfast just before his departure and her hair appointment, and she already missed him so much.

“I did. Is that a problem?”

“I don’t like that guy.”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Get over it, Greg.”

As she turned to grab her stuff, Greg grabbed her arm, giving her a strong pull so she would look back at him, “I don’t like that you call another man babe, or that you say you love him.”

Guess how he would lose his mind if only he knew about everything else she shared with Max.

“You are hurting me,” she glared at him, pulling herself off his clutch without much success. Her eyes became dangerous as she lifted her chin proudly. “And I do love him.” It was very important for her to specify it. As if it wasn’t already well known how important Maxwell was to her.

Greg’s expression suddenly became harder than ever. He too sent her a dangerous look, shaking his head. “I do not like sharing. If we go official, you will drop him.”

It was an order.

Funny how the longer she dated him the more similarities she found between him and her family. They too never liked Maxwell, not that anyone ever managed to separate them.

Stella stood there for a moment, at first, she seemed to take his words seriously, but then a soft chuckle crossed her lips, and then it became a full-fledged burst of laughter in his face.

Her behaviour seemed to anger Greg even further, but she ignored it. Stella gave him a strong push, freeing herself from his grasp and, not even giving it too much importance, she proceeded to grab her bag and approached the trashcan so she could throw away the empty containers of her lunch.

“Ok, let’s clear two things,” she began, “first, Maxwell is my family, so I’ll drop you before I could ever drop him. You better get acquainted with it because he will always be part of my life.” She smiled dangerously, “Second, I don’t have time for your jealousy right now. Gotta go to be a bridesmaid.”

Before she could move, Greg grabbed her again, this time his hands clutched around both her shoulders as he squeezed her. “I don’t like your attitude.”

“And I don’t like yours,” Stella knew she was challenging him, and clearly Greg didn’t like to be crossed. But she still did it. She was too proud to worry about the consequences.

One of his hands moved to her throat, where he clutched her strongly enough to take her breath away.

Just then Stella got scared.

"When you'll be mine, I won't let him be between us." He made her lift her face to look at him, "I will train you. You will learn."

“Let me go.” She hissed, but Greg was deaf to her words. When his hold on her became tighter, causing her to start choking, pure adrenaline lashed through her veins, bringing her to act out of pure instinct.

She raised a hand to his face and gave him a strong push. Just when her nails pierced through his skin, Greg finally moved, letting her go.

"You little whore," he began, but by then she had already turned and was walking away, fastening her pace.

"Goodbye, Greg."

#mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #maxwell jacob friedman x ofc #mjf x reader #mjf aew #mjf smut #mjf fanfiction

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Welcome Home Part 5

A/N: Holy shit it has been a long time. BUT here it is.

Summary: Peyton finds her life being flipped upside down again.

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC (Peyton Rhodes), MJF x OFC (Peyton Rhodes).

Scurrying away from each other, Kenny went to answer the door, while I straightened out my top. He pulled it open to reveal Don, who was pacing in the hallway. He looked into the room and his eyes locked on me. “Oh. She is still here.” He commented rudely, before turning his attention back to Kenny.

“What’s up, man? We were kinda in the middle of something.” Kenny told him, and Don nodded, looking at his disheveled state with disappointed eyes.

“Yeah, I see that. I’ve called a meeting. She needs to go.” Don’s voice was callus as he completely dismissed me. I scoffed, gathering my things. Kenny turned to me with sad eyes. I could already tell this night wasn’t going the way I hoped.

“I’m sorry, Pey. Rain check, please?” He pleaded. I was confused, and hurt. I didn’t know what to do. I mumbled a ‘sure’ as I walked past Callis. He closed the door behind me with a loud slam.

Little did I know, that fateful night in Kenny Omega’s hotel room would change the path of my career and my life.

Months passed and I assimilated into The Elite. I was at Kenny’s side as he took on challenger after challenger. I watched as he collected gold after gold, slowly changing into someone I didn’t recognize. He was at my side as I defended my title against the likes of Nyla Rose, Riho, and Penelope Ford.

In all honesty, things were going great for The Elite as a group. Kenny had three titles to his name, The Young Bucks had the AEW Tag Team Titles, even The Good Brothers were champions. Slowly, I started to notice Kenny pulling away from me. He stopped being at ringside for my matches, we stopped hanging out after shows, and eventually he stopped responding to my messages that weren’t wrestling oriented.

The nail in the coffin of my time in The Elite was when I lost the title to Britt Baker at Double or Nothing. Britt was a great competitor and if I was going to lose to someone, I was happy it was her. As I left the ring that night, I had no idea the title wasn’t the only thing I would lose. Kenny was standing by the women’s locker room when I arrived.

“Pey, we need to talk.” He stated, ushering me into an empty room. The look on his face told me everything I needed to know. Once the door was closed behind us, he sighed. “Pey, look.” He started, “This all started with Tony pushing us together, but we knew it wouldn’t last forever. It’s time for you to leave The Elite.” Kenny decided. He didn’t really give me a choice in the matter.

“Okay.” I agreed, before adding, “I’ll put it out on my socials tonight.” It broke my heart to walk away from my best friend, but he was right, it was time. I gave him a hand shake, and left him alone.

4 months later……

Wrapping up another successful Dynamite show, I was in my dressing room, packing my gear, when Brandi walked in. I acknowledged her presence, but continued to gather my things. “Hey sis,” she started, “I just wanted to give you a heads up, Cody invited MJF to ride with us.” She warned.

I rolled my eyes. “Why does he do this to me?” I groaned, “I’ll call an Uber. I am not sitting in Cody’s truck with that loud mouth.” I did my best to avoid MJF.

“I’ll let Cody know. I don’t know why he is trying to push you two together.” Brandi leaned against the door.

“Ugh. Cody has always tried to play match-maker for me.” I moaned, annoyed with my brother’s bullshit. It was exhausting dealing with his meddling. “Thanks for the warning.” I gave her a quick hug and grabbed my bag. “I’m gonna go wait in catering until my car gets here.” I all but ran out of the room.

“Woah, slow down, Rhodes.” Moxley said as I slid into the chair next to him. He knew my brother’s bad habit of trying to set me up. He tried to set us up at one point.

“Sorry, running from my brother and his poor attempt to set me up. Again.” I explained as I laid my head on the table, letting out an exacerbated sigh.

“Who is it this time?” He asked, placing an arm around me. I was really happy Jon and I were able to move past the whole ‘Me costing him the title’ thing.

“Maxwell Jacob Freidman.” I enunciate each word. Jon erupted in laughter. I couldn’t help but join, because it was absolutely ridiculous.

“Seriously? MJF?” He snorted, still laughing at the thought. Jon and I made small talk while I waited on my car to arrive. When my phone dinged, letting me know they were here, I told him bye and went on my way.

Arriving at the hotel, I hauled my duffle out of the back seat and made my way to my room. To my surprise, my brother was standing by my door. “Hey Pey,” he said, giving me a small wave. I nodded, continuing in his direction. “ Can we talk?” Cody seemed off, like something was bothering him.

“Of course,” I answered, unlocking my door. Cody followed me in and took a seat at the small table in the corner. He gestured for me to join him. Closing the door behind us, I sat in the chair next to him.

“What’s up Code? Something wrong?” I immediately asked him, concerned. He shook his head ‘no’.

“Brandi gave me a good talking to on the way here and I wanted to say I’m sorry, for trying to play matchmaker.” Cody apologized. I gave him a sweet smile, but was cheering on the inside for Brandi being on my side.

“It’s okay, really. No need to apologize. It’s just, I’m capable of getting my own dates.” I replied, trying not to sound bitchy.

Cody nodded in agreement. “I know. I know. It's just, as your big brother, I want to kick Kenny’s ass.” I was surprised at the mention of Kenny’s name.

“What does Kenny have to do with this?” I questioned nervously, knowing exactly where Cody was coming from. He huffed a laugh, like he didn’t believe me.

“I know, Peyton. Everyone knows. You’re head over heels for your best friend, except for him. I was hoping, if I got you to go out with Max, then maybe, Kenny would get his head out of his ass.” Cody explained. My mouth dropped open.

“Code, Kenny is my ex-best friend. We haven’t really spoken since he kicked me out of The Elite. He isn’t the reason, I mean, it's just that, it's not...” I couldn’t form a sentence because Cody was right. Even though Kenny ditched me, I still had feelings for him.

Cody sat there, watching me try to form an excuse in my head, but nothing was coming together. Cody just laughed. “Look, Pey, I think we both know I’m right.”

I groaned, shaking my head. “Please, can we just pretend this conversation didn’t happen? I’ll go out with Max. I’m sure he isn’t as insufferable as his character.” I tried to reason with my brother.

Cody sighed, standing up to leave, “Fine, but one day, you’ll have to tell him how you feel.” he said, giving me his best big brother look. I nodded. One day, or maybe never, who knows.

I tried my best to get Cody’s words out of my head. The feelings I had for Kenny were my past. Or maybe they were remnants of the relationship we never got to have. All I knew was it was time for me to move on. Cody sent me a text with Max’s number. What’s the worst that could happen?

Please don't hate me

Tags: @rach-supreme93 @demonprincess13

#Kenny omega imagine #kenny omega x ofc #mjf imagine #mjf x ofc #mjf fanfic #kenny omega fanfiction #wrestling imagine #aew imagine #kenny omega #maxwell jacob friedman #mjf

[mjfsupremacy]

So I'm thinking of writing a oneshot AU with Max and an OFC/reader based on the irl lowkey enemies to lovers thing I have going on with a over the phone consultant at work because it legit feels straight out of a romance novel. Would anyone read a long distance office AU for MJF?

#maxwell jacob friedman #mjf #aew #mjf fanfic #mjf reader #mjf fanfiction #mjf imagine #maxwell jacob friedman fanfiction #maxwell jacob friedman fanfic #mjf x reader #mjf x ofc

[claymorexpunisher]

✨Gigi's Fic Masterlists✨

Started: 8/28/20 (Key: S: Smut, F: Fluff, A: Angst, H: Humor)

-READ THIS BEFORE YOU READ ANY OF MY WORK

As of 12/30/2023, I only do NSFW work.

-Allie Katch

-Baron Corbin

-Charlotte Flair

-Cody Rhodes

-Damian Priest

-Dominik Mysterio

-Drew McIntyre

-Eddie Kingston

-Edge

-Elias

-Finn Bálor/Demon King

-Jey Uso

-The Judgement Day

-Kevin Owens

-Liv Morgan

-Mercedes Moné

-The Miz

-MJF

-Randy Orton

-Rhea Ripley

-Roman Reigns

-Ruby Soho

-Seth Rollins

-Sonya Deville

*NSFW Headcanons:

-Damian Priest

*Ship Fics:

-Poppin’ The Question (Roman Reigns/Seth Rollins/Jon Moxley) (S) (Tumblr Link)

*Misc. Pairings:

-Always Watching (Damian Priest x female reader x Rhea Ripley) (S) (Tumblr Link)

-It's Reading Time (Drew McIntyre/Roman Reigns/Female Reader) (S) (Tumblr Link)

-Just Like at the Movies (Drew McIntyre/Roman Reigns/Female Reader) (S) (Tumblr Link)

-Liberación (WIP) (Damian Priest x OFC, Drew McIntyre x OFC, Roman Reigns x OFC) (S/F/A) (Tumblr Link)

Liberación Masterlist

-Mile High Club (Baron Corbin x Fem. Reader x MJF) (S) (Tumblr Link)

-Primed For Sin (Vamp!Drew Mcintyre x Werewolf!Baron Corbin x Werewolf!Roman Reigns x Sex Demon!Fem!Reader) (S) (Tumblr Link)

-Sweet Dreams (Jey Uso/Fem. Reader, Roman Reigns/Fem. Reader) (S) (Tumblr Link)

-Tag Teamed (Drew McIntyre/Roman Reigns/Female Reader) (S) (Tumblr Link)

-Three’s Company (S) (MJF/Wardlow/Female Reader) (Tumblr Link)

-Voices Like Honey (S) (Roman Reigns x Fem. Reader x Damian Priest) (Tumblr Link)

*Multi-Chapter/Multi-Characters:

-Brats Have More Fun: (S/F) (Tumblr Link)

#gigi's wrestling fic masterlist #wwe #aew #wrestling fic #wrestling fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe smut #wwe fluff #aew fluff #aew smut #writing #fanfiction #wwe fic #aew fic

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

What You Can Learn Ch. 2

Summary: After being suspended from AEW, Max’s dad decides to give him a life lesson by sending him to one of the poorest parts of Long Island to get a small taste of what real life looks like. What seemed to be a nightmare soon turned out to be quite the journey when he meets a single mother and her nosy offspring. And for the first time in his life, Max will quickly realize that what truly matters in life might not be his beloved money after all.

Word Count: 675 words

Pairings: MJF x OFC Ella

Warnings: None

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @damnnhausen , @starwithaheart , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @cuzimacomedian , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @sldghmmr , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

A/N: Thank you @letsgivethisonemoreshot and @theworldofotps for the undying support 😘

Chapter 1

Ever since their last encounter, Max began to pay close attention to his hot neighbor and her annoying offspring. He learned that she was a single mother and had some kind of night job since a woman in her mid thirties - who he later found out to be her older sister - came over to stay with the child overnight three times a week.

He tried to approach her, to get some intimacy, but since he apparently somehow offended her little beastie that day in the garage, she made sure to ignore him every time he tried to greet her.

But this though…this was his chance to make up for his “rudeness” and somehow finally convince the sexy next door neighbor to come over for dinner. The kid was running barefoot around the street, pulling an old plastic toy dog by a string behind her.

Max waited, and when she ran in front of his garage, he called:

“Psssst. Hey, little rascal! Over here”

The little girl stopped in her tracks and stared at Max, who was holding a cherry popsicle in his hand.

“Hi” Max smiled with fake innocence “Does your mom know you’re out here by yourself?”

“Yes. And she told me that if you talked to me I should tell her so she can come over here and kick your ass”

Max narrowed his eyes at the little girl’s audacity “Shouldn’t that three letter word earn you fifty cents in the cussing jar?”

“I don’t know what a three letter word is. I just know how to write ‘mommy’, ‘sun’ and my name”.

He took a deep sigh before rolling his eyes in annoyance “Why am I not surprised?” He offered her the popsicle and the little girl gladly accepted.

In less than two minutes she had already successfully painted her whole face a dark cherry red color. Max quickly glanced at her dirt and dust covered feet and winced “How does your mom let you walk around barefoot? That’s gross”

“Antibodies” She hiccuped.

“Great, so you don’t know how to write ‘ass’ but know what antibodies are?”

“Mommy said they help you to not get sick, and she also says that walking around barefoot helps you to get them because if we have them then we don’t need to go to the hospital.”

Max was about to say something but the little girl continued “I don’t like the hospital. There’s too many people, it’s noisy, scary and it smells funny”

“Ok?” He frowned and quickly shook his head before plastering a fake smile on his face “So what’s your name and how old are you?”

The girl hiccuped again before answering “I’m five years old” She showed him five fingers “and my name is Violet. V-I-O-L-“

“Yeah yeah yeah. I know how to spell it, ok? I’m Max” He offered his hand and the little girl just stared at him in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re Mr. Fancy Shoes…that’s nice. I don’t have fancy shoes. I do have Barbie sandals that my aunt Jenna got for me-”

“Cool” Max squatted down to the ground and asked “Would you like to be my friend, rascal- I mean, Violet?”

Violet’s blue eyes narrowed, copying Max’s early actions “Are you gonna be mean to me again? Because mommy said you were mean to me”

“I wasn’t being mean, you see, your mom got it all wrong. I was actually trying to be your friend” Max smiled and it took Violet a few seconds to consider his proposal.

“Okay, Mr. Fancy Shoes, I want to be your friend” She smiled “But if you are mean to me I’ll make sure to tell mommy so she can come over and kick your ass! She’s very good at that”.

“Weirdly enough, I don’t doubt that” Max sighed before he went back into his house to get another cherry popsicle for Violet.

Little cub was an easy one to win, now momma bear…well, Max had a feeling it would take him more than a couple cherry popsicles to win her over.

#what you can learn series #mjf fanfiction #mjf aew #mjf x reader #mjf imagine #mjf #masochist writes

[mrfutureboy]

May I ask for some Trans Marty headcanons 👉👈🥺 (only if you want to ofc)

hi anon! for sure!

tho honestly im not sure i have many that are my own?? there are so many people in the fandom that spend more time thinking (in general) and that have come up with some amazing headcanons that i subscribe to so admittedly i havent spent as much time thinking up hc’s myself! well, maybe this isnt true in the case of marlene mcfly but this post isnt about her lol. so mostly this’ll probably end up being a list of things other people have said/pointed out. that said, if i mention a hc thats yours just be like “hey thats from my post!” and i’ll link u because i honestly cant remember who said what anymore

edit: added links to op’s of various hcs

so first of all, his layers. layers on layers on layers to hide the shape of his body is so trans masc of him. this is literally canon so it doesnt even count. (x, x)

but i’ll quickly mention some other things people have pointed out that are supported by canon: everyone calling him “mcfly” instead of his first name, twin pines lorraine not liking jennifer for no real reason except maybe thinking marty shouldnt be dating a girl at all (x)

i have NO idea what hrt was like in the 80s, if it were even available at all, but i like the hc that doc brews up some homemade testosterone for his good pal marty (x) man of all sciences, right? honestly doc was probably already making t for himself (trans doc ftw) and then marty came out to him and he was like i have just the thing.

going off that, doc probably helps him with his shots bc i think marty’s a big baby when it comes to needles.

again, resources in the 1980’s are not something i know about but given the climate and technology i doubt there was an extensive handbook on transmasculinity and safely binding. so marty’s methods of binding were probably not very safe, in terms of what he used and how long he wore it. tho @rovermcfly’s recent post about mjf’s harness looking like a binder (x)could support a hc that doc made marty a binder. as his friend and an elder trans guy you know he’s looking out for him. but when marty’s not binding…layers on layers on layers. side note i would hope marty wasnt wearing a binder when he got to 1955 cuz oh GOD he wouldve been wearing that for way too fucking long and with everything that physically happened to him in the first like 12 hrs of him being there he’d surely have some lasting damage

this is mostly a joke hc but marty comes to doc one day and is complaining about his chest while doc’s working on something, and towards the end of marty’s rant doc turns around holding up a knife and martys like whoa uhh im not so sure about that, doc and doc just turns back around. this doesnt ever happen again or get brought up so marty’s not sure if doc was kidding or not. also makes marty wonder if he’d done it before (doc’s got a flat chest after all) and then he starts looking around for stray squirrels with stitches a la frankensteins monster lol

i like @rovermcfly ‘s hc that marty saw “martin seamus” in his family tree and was like yep thats my name (x) which honestly fits really well with canon like how are you going to name ur first son david tiberius, ur daughter linda [no middlename], but then when you get to your third kid suddenly be like “lets do a really traditional family name”. Unlikely.

marty probably came out to doc first. doc quickly made him feel safe and loved and comfortable so yeah i can imagine doc knew before anyone else. and then jennifer and then lastly (maybe accidentally) his parents

Lorraine probably had a fucking conniption when marty first cut all his hair off. also i hate to say it but i feel like she was the least supportive parent (not that george was raving about it) in the twin pines timeline. all im going to say about lone pine lorraine here is that she came around faster (or at least started to) than her counterpart, my justification being the breakfast scene at the end of the movie compared to the dinner scene earlier re: jennifer

personally i dont feel like marty’s been out for longer than a few years but idk thats just a gut feeling i dont have anything else to say abt that

Umm yeah thats all i have to say atm! Thank u anon for the ask :3 and again, if anyone recognizes any posts ive referenced, please @ me so i can link them here!

#signed sealed delivered #anon #bttf posting #marty mcfly #bttf