pairing: mjf x fem!reader
summary: porn w/o a plot. a little mouthy during a hook-up you didn't know you desperately needed.
content(s): semi hate-fuck, hair pulling, degradation and cursing. no physical description of reader.
word count: 615
a/n: i have no explanation for this. i am once again making my obsessions everyone's problem. not proofread because i had no shame while writing this.
“Acting like you don’t fucking love it…” he mouthed off in your ear, body pining yours to the bed, creaking the frame with each snap of his hips.
Face buried in the duvet, you squirmed under him. Heat burned in your lower belly, electricity crackled through your limbs.
Max groaned when you shifted, rubbing your thighs together, squeezing even tighter around his cock buried deep inside of you. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning across sweaty skin.
“Always so fuckin’ wet and tight for me, that’s right baby, just for me?”
You had to fight off the urge to roll your eyes when he lowered his voice, his tone ruminating between your legs. Because at the end of the day, you were here – on your stomach in his hotel room, letting him pound you endlessly into the mattress – and you as much as you hated it, you were big enough to admit that you were just as susceptible to his charm as you always had been. It didn’t mean that you couldn’t give him hell for it, though.
“Fuck off,” you spat before his hand smacked sharply down onto your ass. The sting hit before the sound echoed off the walls.
He peeled back off of you, the cool air of the room replacing his body heat. Almost on instinct, he grabbed your hair, winding it around his fist to pull. Your back arched as a gasp lurched from your throat. Pain prickled through your scalp as he yanked back and bottomed himself out inside of you, stretching you open as his thrusts paused.
“Yeah? Fuck off? Come on baby, look at yourself – back arched, fuckin’ drooling with my cock in you, taking every god damn inch like you were made for it.”
Your body melted at his words, his sick twisted way of getting you off, and you cursed because it was working. Max dropped his head and looked down to where your bodies met – your arousal dripping across your thighs and at the base of his cock.
Wiggling your hips back, desperate to feel more, Max tsked and pressed forward, pressing you into the mattress with no give, nowhere to go. His other hand at your hip pinned you down.
“I didn’t say you could move baby, what is it? You desperate to cum all over my cock?”
“Yes, yes,” you finally cave with a cry. “Fuck,”
“Oh but you love it when I’m so mean to you, right, baby? Love it when I fuck you just like this? Make you so desperate for me?”
“Yes, yes,”
“There she is,” you could hear the smug grin in his voice.
Dropping your hair, you let out a small sigh and your head falls forward again, chin tucked against the mattress while you whine – he pulls his hips back, the head of his cock notched at your needy entrance before thrusting back in one motion, over and over, slowly, dragging his length over every sweet spot that had your body shaking under him.
“That’s it doll,” he purred before dropping back over you, elbow pressing into the mattress as he wrapped the other arm around your neck. His mouth was hot on your ear and his words rattled around in your mind, unable to think about anything except how fucking good he feels, and how much you hate to admit it.
So you don't say anything at all, instead, you take everything he gives you.
੭꣒ ˖ ❛ bf!langdon who takes the phrase “kiss and makeup” a little too seriously.
c.ws :: mdni , smut , slight degradation , missionary so you can continue arguing , dirty talk.
"stop being so fucking mad at me." frank grumbles out from above, driving the point home by grinding his cock in deeper inside you. your thighs quiver despite yourself where they're hooked around his waist, lewd slapping noises permeating the room just to tease you. “i said sorry an hour ago.”
you keep turning your face, trying to angle it out of reach, or at least force the fury back into your expression. you can’t fight the scrunch of pleasure that crosses your face, however. he can see that too. the grudge held like a stone dam, meant to keep your pride immune and well guarded from the way he's fucking you into the mattress. but it never works.
"m’not-"
"you are." he nips at your shoulder, voice muffled. "you keep clenching up when i talk.” his hips rear back steadily, a wet squelch sounding from where you're joined, then he sinks back in with a grunt of effort. "except down here."
the truth stings worse than the fight itself: frank knows you like the back of his hand. the front and back. he knows exactly how to fuck you until your resentment feels misplaced and petty.
hands that had been pushing against his chest find the silky sheets instead, clutching tight.
"it was a stupid fight," he pushes in again, slowly, allowing you to relish in the thick ridge and veins dragging along your walls while he explains the situation to you.
"and you know it." pride makes you not answer, of course, the only thing you can manage is a soft whine.
"sweetheart," he sighs. "you really gonna let me cum in this pussy while you're busy pretendin' to hate me?" you blink up at him in silent retort. defiance radiating from every inch of your face.
"mmm." the man even has the audacity to pinch the bridge of his nose, like you're the one being unreasonable. like he’s not currently balls deep. "always so fucking stubborn." he reaches between your bodies, thumbing lazily at your clit. "you think i like walking out?"
rage bubbles back up your throat at once, rolling your eyes with the little attitude you had remaining. "you slammed the door — our door — and left."
"you knew damn well i'd come back…” he grunts, not missing a beat to retort. an especially brutal thrust has you seeing stars. "you’re a smart girl, stop acting stupid, yeah?" you try to hitch your hips, to hurry him along but he only holds you down, eyes narrowing.
"go ahead and scream all you want, curse me out, break something if you need to. but don't fall asleep hating me.” he rambles on, shaking his head faintly. “can’t take that shit."
your words come out sharp, bitter once you find your voice. "so what’s your plan, fuck me into forgiveness?”
there's no hesitation in him when a toothy grin splits across his face, "there you go. if we fight in the morning? before work? fine. but if we're sharing a bed like this, we fix it before we close our eyes. understood?" no thought forms twice before your head's nodding stupidly, not an ounce of resistance (or dignity) left in you as he sinks back in.
Prompt: “So I have a few ideas for Adam Page: - You are an ex student who grew up and met him. - During his feud with the dicks, honestly anything with that where reader is like “I know your bigger or something” - And honestly just save a horse ride a cowboy 🤠”
Pairing: Adam Page x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings/Promises: soft wrestling violence, SMUT, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, a little bit of spanking
Word Count: 1705
Note: TBH, I wasn’t able to find out much about the feud you mentioned. So, I hopefully made up enough that this makes sense. Found out that James Dick has a school and ran with it. Enjoy!
“Keep it tight, Y/N!” James Dick slapped his hand onto the canvas in time with how fast you were supposed to run between the ropes. His pace kept quickening, confusing you and making you falter.
Of all days for him to relive his tutor role, why today? You tried not to think about the group of guys in the corner. Their gear was covered in skulls with guns for crossbones. While the team had morphed over the years, their control of the ring was unquestioned. All of them talented. All handsome. But only one ever drew your eye. You snuck a peek.
The Reader is invited to participate with MJF’s family Hanukkah traditions. She enjoys being included. But Max’s mind wanders as he sees her in the candlelight and can’t wait to get her alone at home.
Pairing: Maxwell Jacob Friedman x Reader
Warnings/Promises: Fluff, Smut, oral (male receiving), lipstick kink (is that a thing?), dirty talk, slight degradation, overstimulation, p-in-v, cock-warming, implied further smut
Word Count: 2900 (omg)
Note: Firstly, just: this man. Secondly: this one came out really intense. Please let me know how you guys enjoyed it with comments and reblogs! Keyboard smashes and emojis are great feedback too. Happy holidays and happy reading!
Max couldn’t take his eyes off of you. This was the first year you’d been able to participate with his family’s Hanukkah celebrations at his parent’s house. It was the family tradition to meet all in one place for the first night and the lighting of the first candle. He swore that you glowed brighter than the candles.
All night, you asked questions about the differences in traditions between your family and his, details about recipes for latkes, and sang along with his parents. You spun the dreidel with his younger cousins. Their familiar bickering about wins and losses mirrored how you handled his opponents in and around the ring. But here, you had a patience that made his chest tight.
What got him the most, though, was the candle lighting.
At each of the windows, family members placed their personal menorahs on the sills. Your candelabra sat next to his, flush with the window so as not to overlap the candles. The shamash candles were passed around to collect the flame. As the sun was setting, the candles were lit at each window, warming the room with their light and passing the light into the cold world outside. Inside, the house lights remained on, keeping his family in view with more light than their menorahs. Max sang the blessings softly, watching you over the radiance of the candlelight. He stumbled over the words; ones that he’d been singing since his childhood. He kept watching your mouth as you talked, sang, or laughed during the rest of the evening. How your hands fluttered as you talked. The dress you wore was one he’d seen before. But how it swirled around your knees as you walked had him licking his lips and his hands running through his hair.
It took forever to say goodbye. The candles were snuffed out after half an hour. But it took another forty-five minutes before it was just the two of you and his parents. After final goodbyes and the drive home, you finally noticed how fidgety he seemed. You barely sat your menorahs in the front windows before he was mumbling about needing to do something and hurrying upstairs.
You shook your head. As much as he loved being the center of attention in the ring, you hoped the crowd of family hadn’t been too much. You gave him space. In the meantime, you cleaned the kitchen from your earlier rush to prepare the sweets you took to the lighting. With a sigh, you turned off the kitchen lights and headed up stairs.
But upstairs was dark too.
“Max?”
At first, you didn’t hear a reply. Then you noticed the glow coming from your bedroom.
“I’m back here,” Max finally responded.
When you stepped into the bedroom, you gasped. Every flat surface was covered in candles. Tea-lights, tall candles, even a string of fairy lights surrounded the bed. You kept your hands clasped over your chest. “What’s all this?”
“I… well,” he floundered while running a hand through his curls.
You thought for a moment. “Maxwell. Were you a little… distracted during the candle lighting this evening?”
“Maybe.” He grinned at you and tugged you close. “Okay. Maybe a lot.”
Again, you looked around. You closed your eyes as you asked, “so instead of focusing on the miracle you were thinking about – ”
“The miracle of you coming into my life, yes.” With the way his fingers were trailing up and down your back, he wasn’t reticent in the slightest. You asked if something like this was allowed. “Well… it’d forbidden to fast during Hanukkah. So, if you’re up for it, we are allowed to, ah,” he kissed your forehead and began to let his hands wander.
You rolled your eyes. “I thought you were the one who had to be ‘up for it’ in these kind of situations.” To test your theory, you slid your hand down to the front of his pants. He was, indeed, up for it. “Okay. You’ve got the candles. You’ve got me. What’s your next step?”
He swallowed hard; his gaze homed in on your lips. “Not a clue. All I want to, all I’ve wanted to do all night was kiss you.”
“Then what are you waiting on? Another miracle?” You slid your hands up his chest and behind his neck. You scratched lightly at the bottom edge of his curls. “Come down here, Scarf Boy, and kiss me.”
With a smirk, he did just that. Small, teasing kisses at first. But as you leaned into him and hummed into his mouth, Max kissed you harder and held you tighter. His hands splayed wide around your hips, trying to feel as much of you as possible. He groaned as your hands did the same to his back and biceps. When you were breathless, he broke away.
“How you doin’ down there, sweet cheeks?”
All you could manage was a “mhmm.”
Proud of himself, he helped your legs wrap around his waist. The bed was soon under you, but Max kept you wrapped around him so he could grind into your rolling hips. He glanced down at your skirt riding up. He rocked into you harder until the fabric was bunched up around your waist. He smiled into your kisses. With a chuckle against the curve of your neck, he leaned you up with a hand behind your head. His other hand slipped between your bodies. With a little teasing and a little rubbing, he succeeded in wringing your arousal through to the front of your panties. Your jolts and whines didn’t make him stop. What did freeze him was how glossy your eyes looked. And how your mouth parted perfectly around those tiny gasps that he loved.
Glancing at your boudoir, his mind spun with an idea.
“Hey, Baby, you gonna take good care of me?” He suckled a soft mark on your neck. “Gonna take care of me so I can take real good care of you?”
You followed his glances to your collection of hair and makeup products scattered haphazardly over the low desk. “Always. But – What do you have in mind?”
He pressed a hard kiss to your lips before shifting off the bed. When he came back, he had one of your lipsticks in hand. He summoned you to sit on the edge of the mattress with a curl of his fingers.
You frowned at the tube he chose. It wasn’t one you used often. The lipstick was too dark for regular use, and really only looked good when you were expecting to be flushed. Realization froze you in place as Max lightly gripped your chin. Your lips parted so he could apply the color to your lips. It didn’t take much to image how you looked to him. Cheeks flushed from his kisses. Eyes wide with realizing what he meant to do. Lips parted in an “oh.”
With his thumb, he smeared the thick layer of color across your bottom lip. “Perfect.” He grinned. “Caught up yet?”
To answer, you reached for his belt buckle.
Max toed out of his shoes and helped your hands rid him of his pants. The button-down shirt hung open over his undershirt, though it was tight enough that you could watch his tummy contract. He regripped your chin as you brought his cock into the open. Back and forth, he enjoyed smearing your lipstick. He couldn’t wait to see what you’d look like after he filled your mouth with his length. A small hiss escaped through his teeth as your thumb circled his tip, smearing the precum there.
His head fell back as you began to kiss and down his length. When he managed to look down again, his breath stuttered to see the red lip prints that you’d left behind.
“Come on, Baby. Mark me up.” He spread his hand over the back of your head. As you swallowed him down, bit by bit, his words stuttered out between rushed breaths. “Love seeing your lips around my cock. Been dreamin’ – use your tongue, just like that – dreamin’ about having you like this all day. Been wanting to feel that mouth just like this.” He groaned as you added your hands to your movements, cupping and massaging his balls to make him twitch in your mouth. “We both know you’re too good for me. But then I’ve got you like this and – easy woman – and I think maybe you’re just as much a degenerate as I am.”
You slid off his cock with a pop. “Darling… you talk to much.”
“Make me shut up then.”
After a smirk, you took a deep breath. Max braced himself for what he knew was coming next.
Relaxing your jaw and throat as best you could, you worked your way back down his length until your lips could rest at the base of it with your nose pressed against his abdomen. Max’s eyes rolled. His thighs twitched as he fought the need to begin thrusting in and out of your mouth. Anything he wanted to say stuttered on his tongue, refusing to make any sense while you had him sucked down so well. He stumbled through a few sounds as you hollowed and sucked your cheeks.
“Gonna, gonna burst. Move, woman.”
Lightly grazing your teeth along his underside, you slid off again. He whined, tightening his grip on the back of your head. “What? I thought you wanted me to move?”
He used his thumb to hold open your jaw. “Fine. Stay still and I’ll move.” He glared at the innocent smile you gave him. Already, the color on your lips was smeared nearly past recognition. But he needed to see it obliterated. Max filled your mouth again. The sensitivity of his cock jarred as your tongue worked around him. With a grunt, he did his best to hold back. Thrusting, he took what he wanted.
Your hands slid up and down his thighs. If he slowed down, you picked up the pace. He wanted to see you debauched, and you were willing to give it to him. But you also wanted to see him wrecked.
The tightening of his hand on your head was the only warning you had before he spilled down your throat. As you swallowed, you kept him in place by gripping his hips. He tried to get away, but you took your time coming off him. When you did, you took his length in hand and guided him to lay on top of you on the bed. He grunted against the side of your neck as you gently stroked him.
“Ea-easy.” He batted your hand away. Before you could snark at him, he reached down for your slick. It didn’t take much movement from his fingers before he could triumphantly watch your eyes close with pleasure. And it didn’t take much more to remove your dress and panties. Before you could bother with removing your bra (one of the lacy blue ones that he liked) he rolled you to sit on his hips.
You squinted at him.
Max swung his hands up and back behind his head. “What?”
“What happened to I take care of you so can take really good care of me?”
“We’re getting there.” He shifted his hips under you, his half-hard cock laid out for your view. “Can’t take care of you with this. So, help a guy out.” Max smirked at you.
His face was pretty, you had to admit. Punchable. But pretty.
In Max’s view, you were stunning. The candlelight glimmered across your bared skin, flickering and giving your face different angles of illumination. You were irritated with him, but beautiful. His stomach contracted under your hand while you thumbed across the blurred line of lipstick at the base of his cock. Panting, he kept still as you pushed his undershirt up so you could see his abs. They flexed as you curled your fingers around his length, gently stroking him.
When you began to roll your hips over his stomach, with his cock trapped between you, the both of you had to moan. You with neediness, and Max with overstimulation. The wetness that had grown with sucking him off slicked up his cock and stomach. You slid back and forth, chasing the sensation of his cockhead catching your clit. But then Max reached up and took care of your bud with his thumb. You braced your hands on his chest.
“Look at you,” he breathed. “Ridin’ me like a perfect slut. My slut. If you hang around me too much longer, I’ll ruin you.”
You licked your lips. “You’re already ruined me, Max. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.”
His other hand landed on your waist, guiding you to slide faster. Your slick gushed, giving him plenty to work with to rub up over your clit. He teased you for the mess you were making. How he wasn’t even in you yet, and you looked like you were fucked head over heels.
“You gonna cum, Baby? Just from sliding back and forth on my cock? What would your fans think of you if they knew this was the woman you became when the cameras turned off? My valet, my woman, so cock-drunk she can’t even see straight.” He used his hips to push you higher on your knees. With the extra space, he curled his fingers into your heat. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
Desperately, you nodded. All you needed was for him to keep moving his fingers like that. Just a little longer. But as he dragged them out, you keened. Between you, his cock had hardened again. He guided you back and forth, gasping to feel how wet you were. “Max-“
“Gonna take good care of you. Can you wait for me?” He ground his thumb into your clit, hoping to bring you to the brink. He had a feeling he wouldn’t last long once he had your walls around him.
“No.” Your limbs stiffened and your vision blurred as Max’s work sent you over the edge. You tried to fall forward onto his chest, but he forced you keep sitting on his lap as he laid there.
“Did you just cum?” He laughed, awed. “Poor thing. Just came around nothing. Don’t worry; I can fix that.” Lifting up your hips again, he speared you bit by bit onto his length.
Your thighs quaked on either side of his hips. Full of him and reeling from your release, your body couldn’t decide if it wanted him in or out. Your walls fluttered around his length. Beneath you, Max struggled to hold still as your body decided. Looking at the scrunch of his brow and hearing the raspiness of his breath, you knew he was close. You slid your hand up his chest. His hand caught yours after your thumb flicked over his nipple.
“Hey-“
“What?” You gently rolled your hips, making both of you gasp. “Are you the only one in this house allowed to take charge?”
Cheekily, he risked a grin that disappeared into a moan as you rolled your hips again. “I – I thought I was.”
“Are you sure about that?”
His answer was to grip your hips tight. Hands warm and grasping, their paired strength held you in place for his hips to thrust up. Your hands fell to lay over his. As he made you bounce on his lap, you did your best to keep your seat. Max watched you fall apart through lidded eyes. Heart thundering in his ears, he could still hear your cries and the prayer of his name falling from your lips. He watched your throat and lips. He watched your breasts bounce as he thrust. And he felt your walls clamping tighter and tighter around his length with each spear into your heat.
“Getting’ close, baby?”
You nodded frantically. Eyes screwed shut, you slammed yourself down and wriggled your hips, chasing the sensation of being completely full.
“Come on then,” he breathed, “cum for me. Gonna fill you up so good.”
He reached for your clit, circling it until you saw stars. The flames and glow of the fairy lights blurred into one radiance with Max’s awe-struck face in the center. It was the last thing you saw before you came with a shout. Your eyes clamped shut. As he continued to thrust, you fell forward to brace yourself on his stomach. You clawed at his skin, leaving thin red welts. Max groaned, then whined your name before his body shuddered. His release spilled into you, warming your already-flushed body from the inside out. The cum that spilled out around his length mixed with the mess already spread across his lap.
Dazed, you didn’t realize he hadn’t pulled out until you were laying on your side and he was lifting your leg over his thigh. “Max-“
“Hmm?”
“What – what are you doing?”
“Well, you blew me till I came. I made you cum. Then we each came again. That leaves four more.”
“Four?” You whimpered as he slowly rolled his hips. “What? Did you think we were done?” He kissed the end of your nose before burying his head into the crook of your neck and sucking a mark on your pulse point. “Nuh-uh. Have to get to eight. One for each candle and night of the miracle. Not letting you go. Not yet.”
***
Masterlist
***
Other MJF Fics:
A Tease of the Worst Kind (S, Ficlet)
Finish Me (S, Ficlet)
Power Struggle (Whump)
STFU (S, Summer Song-Fic Playlist)
***
Other Wrestling Holiday Fics:
Snow Kisses (F) - Jack Gallagher
Happy to Help (Male!Reader, AR, F, implied S, M|M) - Ricochet
Warm Me Up (AR, S, Virgin Reader) - Elias Samson
Rain Check (F, A, Book/Coffee Shop AU) - Ceasaro/Claudio Castignoli
pairing: mjf x f!reader
word count: 4k
warnings: 18+ mdni; unprotected sex, quickie, use of 'daddy', very minor choking, degradation, name calling, rough, dirty talk, mentions of slapping, brief physical altercation (not involving reader), that should be all?
Max is angry the moment he walks into the house, that’s evident to you only. Having dated him for years, it’s easy enough to read when his emotions change, especially if he’s angry. It isn’t his fault this time, not really. The airlines cancelled his flight due to inclement weather conditions, leaving him stuck in the city, his plans for the holiday officially cancelled. Despite the end of your romantic relationship a year prior, you have remained good friends, so, naturally, you invited him along to your family’s dinner. Which is why the scowl on his face is all the more annoying for you.
“Max, what the fuck is your problem?” you hiss, unzipping your hoodie and glancing around to make sure no one is in earshot.
“What?” he asks, agitation apparent in his tone.
“You’re mugging right now,” you whisper. “I know you’re pissed about missing your family’s party, but can you at least try to have a good time?” Max appears indignant for a moment, parting his lips to reply, but he stops and takes a deep breath before he answers.
“Whatever,” he sighs, moving away from you, following the sounds of the football game on the living room television.
As the day continues, Max seems to relax for the most part, spending time talking to your family to catch them up on his life over the past year. He speaks like a used car salesman, selling your family members on himself like he needs to convince them he deserves to be there. Out of all of Max’s personalities he chooses to portray, this is your least favorite one. It’s inauthentic, cheap. When his bragging gets the reaction he wants, he builds on his stories, exaggerating beyond believability, but your family continues to devour every word. It’s both refreshing and annoying that they still treat him as a member of the family.
Along with Max’s ego, another unwanted guest is at the party: your cousin, Pete. Every year, he drinks too much, and finds a way to instigate an argument. Today, he’s made his rounds to all of the attendees of the party, antagonizing them as best as he can, only to be dismissed or given the silent treatment. It’s clear from the way they all roll their eyes that they’ve reached their wits end with Pete, and you wonder if he’ll receive an invitation for the next gathering.
After dinner, the party winds down, and the remaining guests find their way into the back patio to start the customary gossip session about the other family members. When you look for a place to sit, you find your options limited: laying in the grass with your younger family members or sitting at the patio table with Pete. You search for Max, finding him leaning against the wall of the house, talking animatedly with your uncle. You’re tempted to join their conversation, but you’re happy to see Max smiling for the first time that day, so you leave him alone.
“Hey, cuz!” Pete exclaims as you take the seat across from him.
“Hey, Petey,” you reply, trying to keep the reluctance out of your tone so he doesn’t see you as an easy target. “How’s it going?”
“My dad said I’m cut off for the night,” he groans, and you try not to laugh before you respond.
“Your dad left like twenty minutes ago,” you say. “Besides, you’re, like, fifty years old, Petey. Can’t you make up your own mind?” Your aunt flicks your ear as she passes the table, wagging her finger at you to discourage your instigation. “But yeah,” you say, rubbing your ear to soothe it. “Maybe you should ease off or you’re gonna be crashing on the couch.”
“I’m surprised you brought Max tonight,” Pete says, stumbling over his words as he ignores you altogether. “Your breakup was messy.”
“No, it wasn’t,” you sigh, immediately catching what his intentions are. “I wouldn’t have invited him if we weren’t friends, shithead.”
“That’s not what Max was saying,” Pete sighs, shaking his head. “He said you two broke up because you cheated on him.”
You have to hand it to Pete: he may gossip like a teenager but he’s determined. You’ve never known him to make up accusations before, though you’re inclined to believe he only does it since the night is drawing to a close without any chaos. Sitting back in your seat, you fold your arms over your chest and smirk at Pete, rolling your eyes.
“Your desperation knows no bounds, Petey,” you say. “Don’t be surprised if you don’t get invited back for the next one.”
Pete responds with a barrage of slurred curse words as he takes his leave from you, wandering around the party in search of another victim. You lock eyes with Max, who stands with his arms folded, back against the brick wall of the house, a stony expression on his face. While you can’t read his emotions completely, you can tell he’s still frustrated, but you’re unsure what the cause is. That is until Pete finds his way into Max’s personal space.
Though you can’t hear the conversation completely, you can tell from Max’s body language that he doesn’t want to talk to Pete. You’re almost certain that Pete is going to get the response he’s looking for from Max, judging from the way your ex clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes. You’re glued to your spot, watching from several feet away, trying to hear what Pete is saying because you’re curious who he’s trying to set Max’s ire on.
Just as you stand from your seat to intervene in the conversation, Pete puts his hand on Max’s arm, nodding his head as he continues to speak. In that second, you can see the switch flip in Max’s head, his eyes immediately lighting up with anger. Before you can reach them, Max punches Pete, his fist connecting with the older man’s jaw hard enough to send him tumbling towards the ground.
“Max!” you call out, hurrying over and putting your hand on his chest to back him away from where Pete lays on the ground groaning quietly.
“I told him to back the fuck up,” Max says. Though you expect him to sound apologetic, his tone is reminiscent of the times he’s in the ring cutting a promo, condescending and exact. “He’s been fucking with everyone all night,” he adds.
“Yeah, that’s what he does, Max,” you say. “You know that.” You glance over your shoulder to see Pete struggling to roll onto his side, still groaning and muttering under his breath. The only person who has made the move to check on him is your uncle, who stands with his hands on his hips, chastising the other man for his actions. “Get in the house,” you tell Max, gesturing to the door as you continue to push him by his chest.
“You don’t tell me what to do,” Max scoffs, his face scrunched in an amused confusion. You ignore his response and shove him towards the door, pushing it open so you both can enter the house. “That pathetic fucking loser is lucky that I didn’t hit him again,” Max seethes, pointing past you as you close the door. “The things he was saying, and then putting his hands on me?” Max stops and puts his hands on his hips, a wry chuckle leaving his lips. “That dipshit would be on his way to the hospital if I wasn’t feeling generous,” Max adds, the condescending tone tipping straight into MJF territory.
That’s when the feeling hits. You haven’t seen Max like this in person in a long time. Pissed off, practically shaking with anger, but also cocky. Listening to him speak, and knowing that he was holding back when he hit Pete, a flush spreads across your skin. Try as you might to hide the change in your demeanor, Max can read you just as well as you can read him, and you know you’re caught when you see the smirk on his face.
“Doesn’t take much with you,” Max laughs. “Never did, really. I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s unconvincing, you both realize that, but it’s a quick, futile effort to keep that last shred of dignity. Max tsks in response, shaking his head.
“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart. You were never good at it.” Max’s smirk is faint now, but the fire is still visible in his gaze. “You were much better at other things, though,” he continues, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s what you want to do in your family’s house? Is that why you invited me tonight?” He uses the disparaging tone he’s perfected, adding the extra sharpness that he saved just for moments like this with you. It amazes you how quickly he’s able to switch gears, but you don’t bother to think about it too much; right now, your thoughts are elsewhere.
You brush past Max, hurrying up the stairs as you hear him following closely behind you. When you duck into the bathroom, Max pushes his way in with you, grabbing you by your waist so he can back you against the door. He keeps you pinned there as he presses a rough kiss to your lips, your head knocking back against the door from the force. A moan escapes your lips as he deepens the kiss, and you grab his hips to try pulling him closer. Much to your disappointment, Max breaks from the kiss and he grabs both of your wrists.
“I never told you that you could touch me,” he chastises, dragging you to the sink. You brace yourself on the counter, your back to Max as he moves to stand behind you. He sets one hand on your shoulder, urging you to bend over enough to press your ass against his crotch. When he pushes his other hand beneath your skirt, fingers coming in contact with your panties, he locks eyes with you through the mirror, his expression returning to anger once again. “Take ‘em off,” he demands, taking a small step away from you. “You know better than that.”
“Sorry,” you breathe, reaching beneath your skirt to drag your panties down your thighs and kicking them away from your feet.
“I should make you throw them all out,” he says. “I bet you’d do it if I told you to; you always do everything I tell you. You’re such a fucking slut.” You nod your head, your eyes watering already as your cheeks heat up even more. “Let’s see,” Max mumbles, shoving his hand between your thighs to drag his fingers through your folds. “Jesus Christ, you filthy little whore. All of this because I was a little mean to you?”
“Yes,” you nod your head, maintaining eye contact with him through the mirror. He retracts his hand, looking at your slickness that covers his fingers, and his expression shifts to something detached and almost annoyed at you. “Please,” you say, without thinking.
“What are you begging me for?” Max scoffs. “You don’t even fucking know what you want. I can tell from your eyes: you just miss my cock, and you’ll take it to you however I give it to you, right?” You nod your head quickly, never breaking eye contact. “Have you fucked anybody else since me?” Max asks, unfastening his belt.
“No,” you reply, shaking your head, arching your back to invite him in. Max drags the zipper down his slacks, flicking the button open so he can slip himself free of his briefs. You angle your head to peer over your shoulder, watching his hand stroking your slickness over his length, and you clench at the sight of him. “Fuck,” you mumble, the flush returning to your body.
“Come here,” Max mutters, hooking his arm around your body so he can grab you by your throat. He pulls your body flush against his, leaning his head against yours to speak into your ear. “You missed it, didn’t you?” Max asks, his fingers tightening on your throat just enough to make you gasp in surprise.
“Yes, so much.”
“Then beg me for it. Act like the pathetic slut I know you can be, babe.”
“I need it, Max,” you hurry, your voice strained. “Please, I have to feel you. I missed your cock so much. I couldn’t fuck anybody else because my pussy belongs to you and no one else will ever be able to compete with you.” Max’s grip tightens on your throat again, pulling you closer when he peers between your bodies to drag his tip through your folds. “Please, please, it’s yours,” you whine. “Fuck me. Please.”
Max eases himself inside of you, letting out a steady breath as he buries himself as deep as he can at this angle. Your only option is to stifle your moan, so as not to be heard by any of your family members who may be nearby. Placing a hand firmly to your shoulder, Max forces you to bend over once again, and you grip the edge of the sink to support your new position.
“Fuck,” Max mutters, pressing his hips forward, grinding against you. “You’ve been keeping this pussy tight for me, haven’t you?” You whine, nodding your head, listening to Max chuckle at the way you clench around him. “Tell me,” Max commands.
“I didn’t even touch myself without you; I couldn’t.” The words flood out of your mouth faster than you can hear them, and you begin to realize just how much you missed him. “It’s all yours, daddy,” you continue. “Take it.”
Max shoves you forward again, adjusting your positions just enough to keep your head away from the faucet. You grip the edge of the counter for support as Max draws his hips back slowly, dragging himself out of you until you can only feel his tip before pushing in hard. Biting your lip to stifle your surprised yelp, you try to tip your head to peer over your shoulder at him, but the action proves difficult in this position.
“Don’t try to look at me with those pathetic eyes,” Max sneers. “If you wanted someone to be sweet to you, then you wouldn’t have invited me.” You nod your head, your eyes squeezing shut as Max begins a slow and steady pace with his hips. “You never liked me to be gentle, did you?” Max mutters. “You need this: cheap and nasty, just like you.” Max adjusts his hands, his fingers digging into your hips with more pressure, helping pull you to meet each of his thrusts.
“You’re gonna leave—”
“What, I’m gonna leave bruises?” Max interrupts. “Your body is mine, so I’m gonna leave my mark on you.” You whimper, clenching tighter around him from his words. “What happened to my slut, hm?” Max asks, slightly breathless as he continues at the same steady pace. “The one that begged me to slap her and choke her. What happened to daddy’s girl?”
“Oh, God,” you whine, as you feel the ache in your hips from the edge of the countertop.
“Maybe you don’t want to be too loud for your family to hear,” Max continues, pressing his hand between your shoulderblades to keep you in place. “I should stop…we wouldn’t want someone to walk in…”
That’s when it hits you: neither of you locked the door. You whimper, struggling under Max’s grip as you try to break free, but he pushes you down harder, a quick thrust of his hips jamming you against the counter’s edge. Your knees buckle and your moan echoes in the sink basin, but Max still doesn’t free you from his hold. Instead, he buries himself all the way inside of you and pauses, angling his head so he can catch your gaze when you glance over your shoulder.
“You just remembered that the door is unlocked, didn’t you?” Max whispers, his tone devious, proud. “Anyone could walk in…find you bouncing back against my dick like this.” Much to your shame, your body reacts to the idea of being caught, and Max feels it. “There she is,” he laughs. “Pussy clenching around my dick just from the thought of someone walking in. Jesus Christ, you’ll probably gush down your fuckin’ legs if it actually happened.”
“Please, Maxwell,” you whine.
“What, are you going to come already?” he scoffs, his hips thrusting again, moving just a little faster now. “I almost forgot how easy it is to get you off. Do you remember the time you came from me teaching you how to wrestle?”
Max’s tone is demeaning, like he was disgusted by what he is saying, but you know that he loved that night just as much as you did. The two of you hadn’t had the opportunity to be intimate in a few weeks, and a sweet, playful training session quickly turned into something much different. It was quick, and you didn’t expect it, but the built up tension mixed with the way Max’s hands felt on your body, the way he felt pressing against you with each move…you didn’t realize that you were clenching your thighs together, and you definitely didn’t realize the way you were grinding against Max when you were on top of him for a pin. You were humiliated at the time but Max calmed your emotions before taking you back to his house for some more privacy.
“You’re so fucking pathetic,” Max breathes, pulling you from your memories and back into the moment, where he now has one hand pressed to the counter beside you so he can have better leverage. “I’ll bet it doesn’t even need to be me,” Max goes on, his hand on your hip now holding on with a bruising grip. “You’ll come like that for anybody, won’t you?”
“No, no,” you reply, quickly, your breath escaping you when he resumes his thrusts, this time much faster. “I need you, Max. It’s only you.”
Max breathes heavily as he thrusts harder, small grunts that he tries to silence just loud enough for you to hear. You reach one hand behind your back, feeling for him, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them hard against the small of your back with both of his hands. When he pushes his weight into your back, your legs tremble beneath you before giving way, leaving your body held in place solely by Max’s grip.
“You don’t get to come,” Max hisses. “Not yet.”
“No, Max, please,” you whine, tears beginning to sting at your eyes.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he grinds out, thrusting harder.
“But–”
“I’m going to come inside of you,” Max cuts you off, the pace of his hips increasing, the force driving you harder against the counter. “When we get to your place tonight, if I think you’ve been a good girl for the rest of the night…”
“Fuck,” you whimper, your eyes slipping closed as you struggle to hold back your climax.
“You can use your toys to get yourself off while I watch you,” he goes on. “That’s your punishment for lying to me.”
“What–?”
“I told you that you’re not good at lying, sweetheart,” Max mutters. “I know you fucked Will.”
You didn’t expect Max to know the truth, but you shouldn’t be surprised. The encounter was months ago, once and never again because that wasn’t your intention when you went to the show that night. It doesn’t seem like the time to argue with Max over the situation, especially not to tell him that you were jealous when you saw him flirting with someone else, and Will was the perfect person to really make Max jealous in response. No, you’d save that for another time when you have a little more privacy.
The possible options of how to handle this moment play in your head quickly: deny it, ignore it, or accept it. Before you have the opportunity to make a decision, Max’s thrusts begin to fall out of time, though he doesn’t relent. He mutters under his breath, something bordering on praise for you, but he keeps his voice low enough that you can’t be sure.
“Jesus Christ,” Max grits. “This is all you’re good for.” You whimper, and clench around him as his thrusts become shorter and more shallow. “Fuck,” he mutters, pushing his weight harder into your wrists. “Don’t you fucking come, do you hear me?”
You open your mouth to speak, but you lose your breath as you struggle to maintain your composure. You’re teetering on the edge of your climax, so close that you’re afraid you’ll pass out when Max finally reaches his own end. He thrusts harder and harder through his orgasm, filling you up until he’s spent. When he finally stills, his length still buried inside of you, his grip on your wrists loosens, and he grabs you by your shoulder to pull you upright again.
“Look at yourself,” he pants in your ear. “Who is the only one that makes you look like this?”
“You are,” you breathe, studying your disheveled appearance in the mirror. “Please don’t leave me like this. I need to–”
“You need to what?” Max scoffs. “You can fucking wait until we get back home. Then you can tell me all about what you and Ospreay did while you play with yourself. I still haven’t decided if I’m going to let you come then either.”
“Maxwell, you said–”
“And you said you didn’t fuck anyone else,” Max interrupts, a smirk on his face. “We’re both liars, I guess.”
When Max finally pulls out, you let out a whimper, the ache left in his wake causing a thrum through your entire body. Only for a split second does Max break from his character when he locks eyes with you in the mirror, an almost indiscernible shift in his expression as he checks in with you. You give an equally discreet nod of your head, before adjusting your appearance to something more presentable.
You both are silent for a few moments as you dress, until Max grabs your panties from the floor, peering at you with a mischievous smirk. He appears to weigh his options for a moment before taking a step towards you and putting the clothing into your hand. In an uncharacteristic move, at least when he’s like this, Max presses a gentle kiss to your lips and peers into your eyes.
“Don’t get used to it,” Max whispers, undoubtedly seeing the confused expression on your face. “This is the nicest I’ll be to you all night. The only reason you’re getting your panties back is so that you don’t leak anything onto your family’s couch. Petey will never let me hear the end of that one.”
Max leaves the room before you are able to respond, allowing you a few more minutes to yourself. Giving yourself a final once-over in the mirror, you exit the bathroom on shaky legs, hoping it’s not too obvious. Descending the stairs, you find Max talking to your uncle again, now much more relaxed than he was before. His eyes find yours for a moment, a devious glint in them that sends your mind racing with excuses that will be able to get you both out of there.
“You okay?” Max asks, when you reach him, concern on his face.
“Yeah, I think I’m ready to call it a night,” you reply, nodding your head.
“It’s only halftime,” Max says, gesturing towards the living room where television still plays. “We can’t leave before it’s over.” It’s another instance where you know Max well enough to read his tone and expression: he’s toying with you, trying to make you sweat as long as he can. Instead of playing into his hand, you let out a sigh and shrug your shoulders.
“I guess we could stay the night here,” you suggest, watching the amusement drop from his face as you call his bluff. “All of the rooms are occupied, though, so you’ll probably end up sleeping on the couch with Petey.”
“Hmm,” Max hums, something igniting behind his eyes. “You’re right.” You both take a moment to say goodbye to your uncle, before he exits the room, leaving you alone with Max again. “You thought that was cute, huh?” Max asks, nodding his head.
“A little.”
“Well,” he sighs. “When we get home, you can show me just how cute you can be.”
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