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champhangman · 7 years

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Reckless - Part 12

Part 12/??

Characters: AJ Styles, OFC, Baron Corbin

Summary: The newest woman on the roster finds herself making waves she never intended to, with men that are both off-limits to her.

She'd known just before, and during, and after, their match with Charlotte and AJ that something was wrong. She had asked, because that was what caring girlfriends did, wasn't it? She had asked what was wrong, if she could help. Baron had merely shaken his head and muttered they would talk about it later. On the flight to Florida she napped, aware the whole time of him stewing next to her, but didn't ask again until later in the day. When, after parting to go to their respective homes he showed up with his dog.

Xander, nearly one hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle, nearly knocked her over while she greeted him. He was one of the things she had missed about being with Baron. For such a large, seemingly serious, dog, he was an exuberant, overgrown puppy. Kneeling on the floor just inside her apartment, she hugged him, giggling as he rewarded her with sloppy kisses and soft growls.

Baron, she couldn't help but notice once she was on her feet again, didn't seem so excited to see her. He greeted her, of course, but she could feel the tension in the arm that slipped around her. Then there was the briefness of his embrace. A chill followed him into the apartment. She knew they would either have a fight or her concern would be brushed away again and, closing the door, wondered if she should even bother.

Yes, damnit, she should. She decided that while Xander checked out the living room, inspecting the new cushions on the couch and nosing through the basket where she had always kept a few toys and chews for him. Surprisingly, he turned away with a large toy clutched in his mouth. It brought a smile to her face because he seemed so happy, tail wagging as he carried the toy to the couch. Once he had jumped up and was happily gnawing on the stuffed Grinch, she looked to Baron.

"You painted," he said.

She wanted to lie. To say something had stained the walls and required the newer coats. To blame her neighbor's daughter for sweeping through with non-washable markers or there had been water damage. Looking to the sunny yellow walls, though, she knew she had to be truthful. They had agreed to talk things out, hadn't they? To not brush things aside?

"I couldn't look at the blue anymore." It was simple but it was the truth. She had mourned that pretty cornflower blue. But the blue reminded her of him. They'd painted the living room together after she had gotten permission from the building manager. In those first weeks after they had split she avoided the living room altogether, not liking the happy memories the walls evoked. But the evidence had lived on in other rooms. The tiny streak of blue on the kitchen doorframe, transferred from Baron when he'd been going to wash his hands in the sink. The smear on her bedroom door, and on the headboard, transferred from both of them because they hadn't been able to wait long enough to shower. There had been other spots, too. Spots she had managed to scrape away. But those three held fast.

"Do you think I'm unsupportive?" he asked suddenly.

Kim dragged her thoughts from the paint on the walls. He was still simmering. Predicting that it was all about to boil over, she murmured that she needed something to drink. She preceded him into the kitchen. Small, it seemed tinier when he was in it and she briefly recalled all the times she had nearly tripped over him while throwing together a quick dinner. He nodded when she suggested coffee, and leaned against the counte`r next to the sink. The memories crashed together in her mind.

Coffee at midnight because sleep was for the dispassionate. Cold pizza at two in the morning, half-eaten because their hunger was for each other. The morning sun cutting through the blinds and warming her back while he had her for breakfast. The taste of him on her tongue as they fixed meals. Meals that were always delayed. Because out of all the rooms they spent time together in, her kitchen was the only one they had never fought in. If anything, it was where they had always made peace. Where, with strong coffee and unavoidable touches, their moods had always coincided. It was their own little Geneva but with no set rules.

"Kimmy."

"You could be more supportive," she finally said, breathing in the aroma of the coffee grounds. Then, realizing she'd put too much into the coffeemaker, she began scooping some back into the container. She could sense their Geneva was about to end. "Sunday night was important to me. And you didn't—"

"I told you, I was getting ready for my match." He dragged a chair away from the table and sat down.

"Everyone else that was watching it had a match to get ready for," she pointed out. "Shinsuke, Dolph, Kevin, Sami, and AJ were in the same match as you, and they all watched it."

"Did you go around telling people I didn't watch?"

"What? Why would I do that?" She got mugs from the cabinet and set them down before turning to face him.

"All I heard yesterday was people bitching about it. How I didn't care that you were doing something historic. How I'm not a man because I didn't support you."

"When did this happen?"

"In Catering. A bunch of them were talking about it. Naomi, Jimmy, Jey… Owens and Sami… Even fucking Styles had to say something."

"He did?"

"Naomi said some bullshit about how Styles obviously cares about women's wrestling." Baron rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. "And then he said he just cares about wrestling. And Naomi dragged Cena into it and he went off about you have to support your partners no matter what they're doing. And on and on. Did you tell them I didn't watch?"

"Of course I didn't." Like that was something she wanted to divulge.

"Then how did they know?" he challenged.

"Gee, maybe because they were all watching and noticed you weren't there? They're all smart, I'm sure they would have seen you if you'd been watching."

"I could have been watching somewhere else."

"Except you weren't," she pointed out. Behind her the coffeemaker gurgled and she turned to pour it into the mugs. "So yeah, to answer your original question, I do think you're unsupportive."

"Here we go," he muttered while she added sweetener and creamer to his cup.

"We promised to talk about shit that bothered us, right?" She turned to place his coffee in front of him, then began doctoring her own. She'd never even enjoyed coffee until he'd swept into her life. The first time she had tried to go a day without a cup after their split she had come to realize she was addicted to it as she had been to him. "You not caring about my career bothers me."

"I never said I don't care." He leaned over the table, elbows propped on the edge while he sipped his coffee.

"You act like you don't." She pulled out the chair across from him.

"I'm focused on my own—"

"I know you are," she cut in. "But doesn't mine affect you right now? We're in the storyline together."

"You mean the storyline that has you flirting with Styles? Forgive me for not being all gung-ho about that."

"So you're paying attention to that? Figures," she muttered. The coffee was strong, stronger than she usually made it.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You've got this hang-up about him. You have ever since the night of my debut."

"The asshole butted in on something that didn't concern him, remember?"

"He was being a gentleman. He didn't think… I don't know what he thought or didn't think. But I do know I said no and he intervened."

Baron scoffed. "He just delayed the inevitable."

The coffee sloshed and stung her fingers as she slammed her mug down. "What?"

"You came to me a couple days later."

"I came to you because—" she cut off. She'd already told him why she had gone to him. And if she went on speaking at that moment, she may say something she would later regret. Something along the lines of now wishing she hadn't sought him out.

"Because you were horny. I know. You could have gone to any guy in the hotel that night. Even the gentleman Styles wouldn't have turned you away." Baron sneered while making air quotes around the word gentleman.

Denim scraping her flesh. Arm like steel holding her close. Nipples hard. Clit throbbing. The music vibrated the floor. Heart pounding. Hips jerking. She could feel his moan. Whimpered as he held her so only her hips could move. She was going to cum. She went taut, felt only bliss and his hot breath in her hair and the arm around her trembling.

Where the hell had those mental images come from? A dream she'd had? And why were they popping up now, at the worst possible time? Frowning, she took a sip of coffee. She did remember dancing with AJ. But that was all they'd done. Wasn't it? Despite Baron's sarcastic use of the word, AJ was a gentleman through and through. A pleasant, surprising reminder that perhaps good manners weren't completely dead. He wouldn't have let that happen. Or would he have?

"AJ Styles has nothing to do with you being supportive of my work," she managed, keeping her gaze on the tabletop. "No one does, Baron, except you."

"What do you want me to do? Drop everything to watch your stuff? Come out and watch you practice in the ring? Wear your shirt backstage?"

All of that. Really, would it be such a chore? Except the wearing of her shirt. She didn't have one just yet. Which was on one hand irritating, because it seemed some of her coworkers had new shirts coming out every other week. But on the other hand she understood it wasn't an immediate thing, that shirt designs and production took time. Inhaling slowly, she lifted her head. "Yes, I do, actually. Except for Sunday, my matches are usually, what, five minutes? Your schedule isn't so busy you can't break away for that long. It's not like you're Cena or Roman."

He dragged a hand over his face and she knew she'd struck a nerve. "I never want to be them," he said evenly. The hand holding the coffee cup was white-knuckled. "And how do you know what my schedule is? I do stuff—"

"Oh my god, I'm just asking you to watch my work and give me feedback. I'm not begging you to sit ringside and take notes," she groaned. "You don't even have to watch it live! Just… I don't know. If nothing else, fucking pretend you care about more than how great my tits and ass look in my gear."

His chair scraped against the floor and she looked on in surprise as he stood. "I should go, before I…" He sighed. "Before I say something I shouldn't."

"Like what?" she asked, pushing her chair back as well. "That tits and ass are all the women are there for anyway? That to pretend we're in the ring performing for any other reason than to give guys a thrill is bullshit?"

"You're putting words in my mouth."

"I don't see you spitting them away," she shot back.

"Well you wanted honesty, right?"

She saw her cup fly. Saw the coffee come out in a caramel-colored arc. Heard the cup shatter against the wall behind him, and the liquid splashing to the floor. All before she realized she had picked the damn thing up. "You asshole," she seethed, feeling the pinprick of tears in her eyes. Damning herself for the tears, she drew in a shaky breath. Part of her wished the cup had hit him, while the majority was glad it hadn't.

"Good job, Kimmy," he said, wiping away the coffee that had splashed on his arm. "Maybe now you can repaint this room, too."

"You should go," she decided, hating that his words were finely honed blades. They pierced her, left her bleeding. And she wished she had the ability to do the same to him.

His chair clattered when he pushed it back to the table, causing the salt and pepper shakers to wobble. She heard a soft whine from the living room when he marched out of the kitchen. And hated herself for letting an argument start in front of the dog. Stepping over the mess she had made and would have to clean up, she followed Baron to the door, rearing back when he turned to face her.

"Did you still want to go look at puppies?"

"For fuck's sake," she breathed, astounded he could even think of her wanting a puppy when they'd just fought – argued? bickered? – about his lack of support. "Are you crazy? Right now I don't want to even look at a pizza with you."

His expression dark, he gave a curt nod then called to Xander. His tone was authoritative, and the dog didn't even glance her way while hurrying to follow his master out of the apartment.

Kim caught the edge of the door and, with a strangled scream, slammed it shut. She wanted to rage. At herself for letting him get under her skin. At him, even though he was gone, for ignoring the hard work she and all the girls had put into their performances. At herself, because she had let him back into her life. And because she had been the one to go crawling back to him after months of swearing she never would.

She wanted to cry. From anger. From sadness. From the stupidity of it all. She wanted to do the cliché 'chick' thing and cram ice cream into her mouth while watching sad movies. She wanted to call Charlotte or Becky or Naomi or all of them and beg them to come over and help her feel better.

She didn't rage, cry, or call anyone, though. Instead, she went back into the kitchen. There was at least one mess she could clean up.

***

"That's the last of it," Nick announced, pushing the box he'd just carried inside out of the way so he could close the door.

"I really appreciate it," AJ told him, bending to lift the box.

Despite his kids, and Nick and Jess' three, going from room to room and back again to check out everything, the apartment seemed hollow. Empty, too, even though it was almost fully furnished. It was more cluttered than anything else at the moment, he thought with a sigh, carrying the box further into the living room and setting it next to the TV that wasn't hooked up yet. Boxes of random things were stacked everywhere. He knew the bedrooms were in disarray, his especially, the bed covered with clothes that needed to be put away and suitcases that needed to be unpacked. The other bedroom was almost as bad, but with the kids' things. The things they'd chosen and helped him pack up for them to keep at his place.

His place. It was new and different and he hated that it was a necessity now. But after getting back to the house he had helped build and had lived and loved and laughed and cried in, he had known it was time to make the official move. She would have the kids for the majority of the time. In spite of everything, he couldn't uproot his sons and daughter's lives more than they already were.

"Help yourself to a drink," he called after Nick, who was already entering the kitchen. He headed after him, stopping in the doorway. "Damn, Jess…"

"What?" His cousin glanced up while placing the new coffeemaker on the counter. "I told you that I'd take care of the kitchen."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you meant you'd have it ready so soon." Unlike the rest of the apartment, it was nearly spotless. A stack of small appliance boxes was next to the stove. The tiny island counter was cluttered with groceries that hadn't been put away. She had insisted on getting what he would need. He smiled slightly when he saw two packages of golden Oreos. She knew him too well.

It was late when he waved goodbye to Jess, Nick, and their kids. Still awed but pleased they had stuck around to help him get mostly everything put away, he closed and locked the door with a heavy sigh.

"Daddy?"

Turning at the sound of Anney's voice, he felt his breath catch at the sight of her frown. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Where my room?" She looked up at him with utter seriousness, her favorite blanket tucked under one arm. The gravity of her expression was ruined by the fact she was wearing only underwear and her hair was still damp from her bath.

"You're sharin' with me, remember?" Scooping her up, he carried her into his bedroom. "See? Great big bed with plenty of room for you. You even get to pick which side you want."

"I want my room," she said, even as she jumped from his arms and onto the bed. "With my toys and my bed."

"I know you do," he sighed. "But this is just for a little while, alright? We're getting' a bigger place soon. And I'll let you pick your bedroom first."

"No Mommy?" she asked sadly.

"No, baby, she won't live there."

Her frown deepened. "Why?"

AJ sighed again. He should have known the questions would start again. Getting her pajamas from the foot of the bed, he motioned for her to move closer so he could help her put them on. "Mommy and Daddy can't live together anymore," he explained for possibly the hundredth time since he and Wendy had told the kids they were separating. "Mommy's goin' to stay at home, and Daddy's getting' a new house as soon as possible. You and your brothers will go back and forth. Remember?"

She nodded solemnly, pushing her hands through the sleeves of the bright blue top emblazoned with her current favorite cartoon character. "Cuz of Chad?"

"No, not because of him," he promised, mood souring at the mention of Chad.

Chad. A man who'd never had to actually work a day in his life and had more money than any man could ever know what to do with. AJ supposed he was attractive. He knew he was a likeable man. Hell, he'd mentored the guy ten years ago when he was about to get married. Now he was divorced, childless, and AJ hadn't realized until it was too late how close he and Wendy had become.

"Daddy?"

He drew in a deep breath, pushing the thoughts of Chad away as he exhaled. "Anney?"

"I love you." She was smiling. She obviously didn't want him frowning.

"I love you too." Bringing her close for a hug, he laughed at her next words.

"Love you more."

"Love you most."

Two pillow fights, three stories, and one long cuddle later, she was asleep. AJ watched her for a few moments to make sure she was completely out before slipping away.

The boys were watching a movie in their room. They'd used blankets and pillows to make themselves a fort, and he could tell when he peeked in on them that they would all be asleep before the movie ended. Albey was already drooping.

He went into the living room. His initial plan was to settle in and play video games, but found he lacked the energy necessary to hook up the system. Remote in hand he settled on the couch, mindlessly flipping from channel to channel. Even with the TV on the apartment was too quiet. The couch wasn't exactly comfortable. He switched off the TV, sighing into the resulting silence. Out of desperation he reached for his phone, which had been mockingly silent on the coffee table since dinner.

There was some pizza left…

Moments later he was standing at the counter, eating a slice of cold pizza and scrolling through Twitter. His thumb paused at the sight of Kim's name. Reaching for another slice of pizza, he frowned while reading her words.

Some nights you just need sad songs…

His frown deepened as he focused on the attached photo – a screenshot showing what she was listening to. He didn't immediately recognize it. Before he could stop himself he was looking up the lyrics, then he was giving it a listen. The tune was pure melancholy, the words haunting.

He let it play in the background as he composed a text to her. It was none of his business. But she was, first and foremost, a friend.

You okay sweetie?

No, that sounded too worried. He tossed the pizza down, wiped his fingers on his shorts, and started over.

Why do you need sad songs tonight?

He hit send before he could overthink the text, then set his phone on the counter and sighed. Just as he reached for the pizza his phone vibrated. Reading the message, he smiled.

Because I'm a chick and that's what chicks do. Are you stalking my Twitter?

I just saw it on my feed. Are you listening to sad songs and eating ice cream?

No. I don't have any. For some silly reason I didn't buy myself any junk food.

That's a shame. I thought chicks kept junk food on hand for times like this.

I thought about going out and getting some but I don't think I want it that bad.

I thought chicks always wanted it.

This chick is different.

I know.

There were no bubbles to indicate she was replying and he worried he'd insulted her. The song ended with a gentle note. He grabbed the slice of pizza and took a bite, nearly choking when his phone began to buzz with an incoming call.

Kim.

He swallowed the mouthful of pizza, wincing, then answered. "Hello?"

"I hit call accidentally but didn't want to hang up and have you worrying that something was wrong, so…" Kim sighed. "Sorry."

"It's no trouble, sweetie." He took a sip of his drink and waited one second. "You okay?"

"I suppose. Just a little down. But I'll be fine."

"Don't listen to anymore sad songs, alright?"

"Why?"

"I don't think they're helpin' you right now. You're a bright, beautiful woman. You shouldn't be down."

"It happens."

"I know," he murmured. The question burned on his tongue. His lips moved into the position to start making the words. He held back as long as he could, which wasn't very long at all, and finally asked what was in the forefront of his mind. "What's got you down?"

"Stuff."

"What stuff?"

"Life stuff."

"You're gonna need to be more specific, sweetie."

She groaned. "I broke my favorite coffee cup. I washed my sheets and they ripped when I was getting them out of the washer. Baron and I had a…few words. It's just been a crummy day."

"Can you get another coffee cup just like the one you broke?" he asked carefully. Better to focus on the things that didn't involve Baron. If she wanted to talk about the few words – which had to mean they'd fought – she would.

"Yeah, my dad has dozens of them."

"Then don't worry about it. And you have more sheets, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Were they your favorite? Irreplaceable?"

"No." She gave a brief laugh. "Just regular sheets from Target."

"Then don't worry about them."

"It was just one more thing to add to the crap, you know?" She sighed. "I wasn't even that upset about it until after…"

"After?"

"After Baron stormed out and I went to put them on my bed and remembered they're ripped and…" Her groan filled his ear. "I'm such a fool."

"You're not a fool, Kim," he insisted. She said nothing and he felt something in his chest twist. "Sweetie, talk to me."

"I feel like one. I went almost seven months without him. And as soon as I got on the roster and we were around each other… I fell right back into him. It hasn't been a month yet and already we're fighting about stuff we fought about before."

"What did you fight about today?" he asked. He didn't know the full story of her first relationship with Baron. He wasn't sure he wanted to know it at all. But he knew what he'd seen of them in the past weeks. And, aside from that first night, he had never seen them as anything but a normal couple.

"He was telling me how some people brought up his not watching my match on Sunday. It just escalated. We both said things we probably didn't really mean. At least, I hope we didn't. I threw him out. Well, told him he should go. And now… I don't know. Maybe it's hormones. Or I'm worn out from the road."

Or maybe she really wanted him gone.

"I just want…" She heaved a weary sigh.

"What do you want, sweetie?"

It was a dangerous question. One he had no right to ask. One he probably didn't want the answer to.

"I want to finish a fight and be able to talk it over calmly once the emotions die down. I want to say what I need to say and not have to say it to a retreating back. It's not the arguing or fighting that upsets me as much as the fact that shit never gets resolved."

"I know what you mean."

"Do you and your wife – I'm sorry, you're separated aren't you? And it's none of my business."

"We fought," he said, knowing what she was going to ask. "At first only over big things. And we always tried to solve problems before they got to the fight stage. But over the years… Well, little things were ignored until they became too big to solve. I let stuff get worse because I didn't want to see the big picture. I took the vows I made seriously. I wasn't gonna be another statistic, y'know? And here I am… A statistic."

"You're not a number on a page, AJ."

"I may as well be. By the time I realized how bad it had gotten, it was too far gone to try fixin'. Relationships are hard, sweetie. Doesn't matter if you're just datin' or if you've been married almost twenty years."

"Did you try counseling?" she asked.

"We did." What a waste of time and money that had been. His marriage had crumbled to dust without his knowing. No, he thought, shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink. He'd known. He'd just been too proud to see. And it had been too far gone. The counseling sessions had only made them tenser around each other. When he'd lost his temper over a basket of laundry in the middle of the floor, he had been forced to sit down and tell himself it was time to end things. No amount of counseling or journals or prayer would take them back to where they used to be. "It didn't work. It's not all on her. Not all on me, either. We grew apart and let things get between us. And we had to do what was best for the kids."

"For what it's worth, I think you're doing pretty good for them. They're great kids, and they didn't seem traumatized to me when I spent time with them over the weekend."

"Anney's still confused," he sighed.

"She's not even three, right? I think she'll be okay. She knows both her parents love her. She's got three big brothers to hold her hand. She's stronger and smarter than you think."

"That's for sure."

"I didn't mean to drag all of this up for you. I can't imagine how stressful it already is—"

"No, no, I think I needed that." He had. "You're right, it's stressful. Especially right now with the new place and settling in. But I needed to talk about it with someone."

"You got a new place?"

"An apartment. It's a few miles from the house."

"What's it like?"

"Like?" He chuckled, glancing around the kitchen. "It's tiny as hell. Two bedrooms, a living room with a dining area, two bathrooms I can barely turn around in, and a kitchen smaller than my closet at the house."

"Are you all moved in?"

"Yeah, Jess and her husband helped. And the kids." He finished the last slice of pizza and folded the box so he could shove it into the trashcan. "I moved in today."

"You must be exhausted."

"I am," he admitted.

"Why aren't you in bed?"

"Because I'm talkin' to you." He smiled as he said it, wondering if she had any idea how much better she had made him feel.

"I'm that important, huh?" she mused. There was a faint playfulness in her tone. He could just hear a soft groan and imagined her stretching.

"You have no idea, sweetie." He crossed the apartment to peek in on the boys. There was no glow inside their fort. As he eased the door closed he heard a gentle snore that verified all three were fast asleep. He checked on Anney, saw she'd wriggled around until she was in the center of the bed. He closed the door and moved to the couch again, pulling a throw pillow beneath his head as he stretched out.

"You need sleep, AJ."

"So do you," he returned.

"Mmm, but I'm already in bed. You're not."

"How do you know I'm not in bed?" He tried to ignore the mental image of her in bed. Did she wear pajamas? A baggy t-shirt? Nothing at all? Closing his eyes, which only made the images clearer in his mind, he waited for her answer.

"I just know. You probably had a snack. I could hear you eating and drinking something. What was it? Ice cream?"

His laugh was genuine. "No. Leftover pizza."

"Yum. But now you're probably on the couch, waiting to make sure the kids are sleeping well before you crash."

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I just know," she said again. "You're a dad through and through."

"I'm not that bad."

"You did a headcount when we got to the bar Sunday night. You're that bad."

"I relaxed once everyone got settled."

"I don't think you relaxed until we danced."

"You remember our dance?" he murmured, surprised. "I thought you were three sheets to the wind."

"Bits and pieces. I got pretty plastered," she reminded with a groan. "But I don't know what's actual memory and what my brain made up."

"What do you remember?"

"You."

The gently spoken word sent a bolt of electricity through his body. Inhaling deeply, he released it slowly, licking his suddenly dry lips. "Wha—" He had to clear his throat. "What about me?

"I know we danced. I know that wasn't some drunken illusion. It was hot and crowded and… That's all I know for sure. But there are also little flashes of me basically riding your thigh until I had an orgasm. Which is crazy, right? I couldn't have done that."

She really didn't remember. Well, she did, but thought she didn't. "Sweetie…"

Her gasp was sharp. "I didn't!"

"You did." Because really what else could he say? Lying to her would accomplish nothing. He hoped she wouldn't feel guilty about her actions. It wasn't as though she'd dragged him into the bathroom for a quickie.

"Shit, really?" She made a small, surprised sound. "I've never been able to do that."

"You've never orgasmed?" he blurted.

"No! No, no, I've done that! Just never while humping a thigh. I've gotten close but I always needed a little something more to push me over the edge." Kim groaned. "Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry, AJ. I know I was drunk but I shouldn't have used you—"

"Kim, sweetie, you didn't use me."

"I can't even begin to imagine how awkward that must have been for you," she went on. "Unless you're used to women getting off when they dance with you? But anyway, I'm sorry—"

"Stop," he interrupted with a chuckle. "You didn't use me. It wasn't awkward. It was…"

"Weird? Gross? Whorish?"

"It was a turn-on," he insisted softly. He knew he was treading into that dangerous territory again. And yet, with her, it didn't seem so dangerous. Just talking about what had happened on that crowded dance floor was turning him on again. He would need another shower.

"Really?" Her voice softened.

"Yes, really," he promised.

"AJ, did we do anything else?" She sucked in a breath. "Kiss or anything? Because that's almost happened before."

As though he'd needed the reminder. "No, sweetie, we didn't. After you recovered a little, you helped me out, then we went to the bar for a drink—"

"Helped you out?" she yelped. "What the fuck did I do?"

"You put your hand down my pants." She sounded so horrified. So embarrassed. He couldn't help but smile. "No harm done."

"How could you let me do such a thing?"

"Kim… Sweetie, I'm a man. I had a beautiful woman grindin' on me. I wasn't about to tell you to stop."

"Ugh," she groaned, and he could picture her, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, one hand covering her face. "No, tell me I didn't really do that. Tell me I did not jack you off in public."

"Don't be upset," he requested. "Hell, I was surprised you did it. I wasn't goin' to ask you to, but you kinda just grabbed the bull by the horns…"

"Or horn, as the case may be," she mumbled. A snort of laughter escaped her. "Oh God, what you must think of me now."

"What do you mean?"

"Grinding on you, riding your damn thigh, jacking you off. You must think I'm a total slut."

"I don't think no such thing. I think you're a vivacious, gorgeous young woman who's comfortable enough to push the envelope. You're not a slut, Kim. It was a few amazin' moments between two adults. Not like you had a line of guys waitin' their turn."

"AJ," she sighed. Then, she groaned again. "Shit, if Baron finds out—"

"I sure as hell ain't tellin' him." He swallowed down the ball of sourness that rose in his throat at the mention of the man's name. "I have no intention of gettin' you in trouble with him. Or of messin' up whatever it is you two have."

"Nothing right now," she muttered bitterly. "If I had to jack a guy off in public, I'm glad it was you."

He let out an absurd laugh. "I am too, sweetie."

"I mean it. Thank you for telling me what happened. It doesn't bring anything else back, but at least now I know the little flashes are real, not something I dreamed."

"No problem. And, hey, if you ever want to dance again, be sure and let me know."

"You're terrible," she groaned. "And it's late. I better let you go."

"Get some sleep," he instructed.

"Wait, one more thing!"

Pushing himself upright, he winced briefly as a twinge of pain flared in his lower back. "Yeah?"

"Did you mean all that stuff you said before we danced? About how I needed a spanking and all?"

AJ dragged a hand over his face. "Yep, I did."

"Hmm. Okay. Now I really need to let you go. You need your sleep, too."

Sleep would be almost impossible, considering all the thoughts running through his mind. Thoughts about her. Dangerous territory be damned. "Promise me you won't beat yourself up about what we talked about, alright?"

"I promise." There was a series of rustles, and the faint click of a lamp being turned off. "Tell the kids I said hi. Will they be coming on the road this weekend?"

"No, but I'm getting' them again in a couple weeks." He smiled, pleased that she seemed to enjoy his children so much. He knew they could be a chore, but each time she had interacted with them over the weekend she had truly seemed to want to get to know them better.

"Good." More rustling. She was getting situated in her bed. "Goodnight, AJ."

"Goodnight, sweetie," he murmured. "Hey… Thanks for accidentally callin' me."

"Thanks for answering my questions. Sweet dreams."

They were almost guaranteed to be about her. Which automatically made them sweet. He didn't say that, though, merely echoing the words before ending the call.

#aj styles #aj styles imagine #baron corbin #baron corbin imagine #wwe #wwe imagine #multipart:reckless

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jwgammuto · 5 years

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The Good, The Bad, and the WTF for Monday Night Raw 4/22/19

We’re officially on the road to Money In The Bank, typically one of the more anticipated and entertaining shows on the WWE calendar. Should we be excited? Only one way to find out and that’s with The Good, The Bad, and the WTF: Bray’s Clues Edition.

The Good: We’re going to get AJ Styles vs Seth Rollins at MITB for the Universal Title. Getting there ate up a little too much of this show for my liking but you can’t hate the result. Also a fun fact, MITB is up against the Game of Thrones series finale on May 19th and I suspect this matchup is a direct result of that. Not that everyone watches both or that you can’t watch either at your leisure because of how 2019 TV works but I find this an odd choice regardless. But all that said, this should be MOTY type stuff and no matter what the rest of the card is, this is a great start.

Styles vs Joe vs Mysterio. Great match with an insane ending. Really showcased how great Styles can be without making the other two guys look terrible. Maybe best Styles Clash ever? One against Nakamura is springing to mind but that’s about the only comparison I can come up with.

Miz vs McIntyre vs Whatever the hell Vintage Corbin is. BAD COLE! God he’s the worst. This was another good match, just a hair less entertaining than the previous triple threat. Miz looked great and had a couple of near falls that almost had me convinced he’d pull it off and even though I shouldn’t be I was fairly shocked that Corbin got the win here. McIntyre seemed like the logical choice. Not sure what they’re waiting for with Drew but Corbin continues to get the cheapest heat possible and that’s who he is and it works.

Cesaro vs Cedric Alexander. Two new toys for the red brand and I dig it. Solid match that ended with Alexander looking like he might die from a vicious uppercut. My lone disappointment was a lack of Lumbar Checks because I need them all. Alexander showed off some impressive strength here against arguably the strongest guy on the roster. Can’t be mad at any of this. Fresh and great. Ok that’s not true. New entrance for Cesaro please. Give the guy some originality again now that The Bar is done.

Teaser for the USOs vs The Revival. This is literally the only reason I wanted Jimmy and Jey on Raw. Give it to us immediately. Welcome to the Revival Reformatory!

Lacey Evans continues to shine on the mic and in this feud with Becky 2 Moves. I do still like Lynch but I think the edge is gone a bit and having two belts and being on both shows is starting to expose her a bit. While Becky throwing Alicia Fox around was fun for a spell, the real highlight here comes when Evans slides into the ring delivers two Women’s Rights, the first of which wasn’t sold terribly well but Lynch made up for it the second time. Really made it look like she got her bell rung. I don’t know what to expect from this match at MITB but I’m hopeful. The feud is building nicely thanks to Evans delivering on every level with her character.

Robert Roode and his GLORIOUS lip sweater vs Ricochet. First and foremost, thank god Roode is finally a full blown heel. Long overdue. This guy is a star when he’s allowed to be a dick. He cuts a solid promo about Gable being dead weight and moves right along. This was also a damn good match with some great back and forth that ended with a sick Glorious DDT (thank you Jake). Right guy won here and we get a fresh take on a performer who has been buried too long.

The Bad: The opening segment. What a predictable and overused slog of a template. 1/3 of the men’s roster come out to say three lines and make their claim against Rollins. It’s been done to death and it took up 20% of the show time. Just give me something original. I love most of the competitors here and loved the idea of triple threats to decide who was going to get a shot but this can be done in about 100 different ways and they just used the same old same old. Also Triple H, who historically forgets nothing, seems awfully Buddy Buddy with a guy who was nicknamed the Kingslayer just a couple years ago. He doesn’t have to be Vince. But he doesn’t have to be Teddy Long either. Bleh.

The fourth name change for the War Raiders under the WWE banner. They are now the Viking Raiders, which is only mildly better. Notice how the fans no longer chant WAR!? Thanks a lot, Vince. That was one of the most fun things about these guys. On a bright note, they absolutely destroyed The La Tolteca Experience so that was fun.

Styles vs Corbin in the main event. It certainly wasn’t awful and given how they’ve booked Baron it probably shouldn’t have surprised me if he won. But thankfully he didn’t and that was the predictably right call. This wasn’t anything special though and maybe it should have been given how most of the ring work for the rest of the show was pretty damn good.

Just gonna put this out there. It’s time for Sami Zayn to do something. This mic work is brilliant and all but it’s getting stale. It’s the same act in every city. It’s quickly becoming Evans’ catwalk. Sami is a great performer in the ring. Someone come to the fans’ rescue soon.

The WTF: Naomi vs Billie Kay. This marks the third singles match The IIconics have lost since winning the tag titles. There was no point in putting the titles on them if you’re going to make them a joke who can’t beat anybody. This lesson was clearly marked by how they booked Dash and Dawson after they gave them the titles. I know Royce and Kay aren’t world beaters and are still raw in the ring, but it doesn’t take much effort to write a cheap win. This does very little for Naomi and damages the rep of the women’s tag titles even further. Just bad.

Finally. The Firefly Funhouse. I honestly don’t even know where to begin. This is like if Steve from Blues Clues was on heroin. Oh wait. He was. Well this is worse than that. The internet is strangely divided on this. Wyatt looks slimmer and a bit revamped and this angle is certainly right in his wheelhouse of creepy but I find myself wondering what’s the best case scenario? He’s psychotic Mr Rogers/Pee Wee and it’s hilarious? Is the King of Cartoons coming? A talking plush chair? It’s certainly original it just also very well may go sideways and be utterly and ridiculously bad. The Meth Den of Horrors match is clearly Bray at his worst. I’m not certain this won’t be worse. What if he ends up with another god awful talk show segment, that WWE never gets right anymore? It’ll be him and his puppets interviewing Bobby Lashley. No thank you. This is what we’re getting so we obviously have to give it a chance but the odds of it being in this column permanently are extremely high. Prove me wrong, Mr Wyatt.

This show had very little that was mediocre. There was a stark gap between what worked and what was head scratching. But we did get some hope in a lot of ways so I can’t be mad. The Firefly FunHouse really sucked all the air out of the show for me. Maybe that’s why I didn’t enjoy the main event as much as I wanted to. 3.25 Hogan Belt Whips because MUSTACHE, Styles/Rollins, and the Lady of the WWE nearly made me forget about Pee Wyatt’s den of potential molestation.

#WWE #WWE Raw #pro wrestling #WWE WWEraw ProWrestling Wrestling Raw

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