#maxwell jacob friedman 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 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

[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

[wrestling-all-the-time]

Flufftober 2022: Day 1

Prompt: Wearing each other’s clothes

Fandom: AEW

Pairing: Maxwell Jacob Friedman x Harper Moxley (OFC)

CW/TW: None

Word Count: 390

~

AEW was finally back in New York this week. I didn't mind the once a week travel, but it was nice to be able to get ready at home.

I looked through my closet, trying to decide what to wear for the show tonight. The only thing I had tonight was an in-ring segment with The Pinnacle. Eventually I settled on an all black outfit. I added my Gucci belt to break up the outfit a bit.

Now that the weather had gotten colder I was also able to add the black coat that Skylar had gotten me. When I moved the coat, I noticed the small box that was in the corner of the closet. I opened it to find a dark gray scarf like Max's. There were still some things Skylar had gotten me that I had yet to look at and since I was part of The Pinnacle, she probably thought it was funny.

Either way it went with my outfit so I grabbed it too.

Once Skylar and I got to the arena we went our separate ways.

I was the last of The Pinnacle to get there.

"Hey, guys," I said as I put my bag down.

"Your here late," Dax said.

"There was traffic," I said.

When I took off my coat I noticed Max watching me.

"What?" I asked.

"Where'd you get the scarf?" Max asked.

"Skylar got it for me," I said.

"Can I see it?" Max asked.

I handed it to him and he looked it over.

"Where'd she get it?" Max asked.

"I would assume a store," I said.

"Wrong," Max said.

"What do you mean wrong?" I asked.

"It's mine," Max said. "Look."

He showed me where his initials were embroidered.

"Last time she was over she took it," Max said.

"She must've hid it in my closet," I said.

"That would explain why I didn't find it when I looked for it," Max said.

"Well, you've got it back now," I said. "Sorry about that."

"Here," Max said, handing the scarf back to me. "You keep it."

"Wait, really?" I asked.

"Yeah, I already replaced it," Max said. "Besides, it looks better on you anyway."

"Oh, well, thanks," I said with a smile. "I actually really like it. I can see why you wear yours all the time."

#flufftober2022 #day 1 #aew #maxwell jacob friedman x ofc #maxwell jacob friedman #wrestlingoneshot

[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

[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

[darkorderaf]

Could I request “you are, without a doubt, the most annoying person i’ve ever crossed paths with. and don’t even get me started on the sound of your voice” For MJF? Maybe the reader is trying to comfort him after his promo last night bc she likes him?

Of course! Here’s some angsty and angry but a little soft MJF. I hope it’s alright that I combined it with another prompt! Please enjoy and sorry for the wait. <3

Pairing: MJF x OFC. Prompts: “You are, without a doubt, the most annoying person I’ve ever crossed paths with. And don’t even get me started on the sound of your voice”. + Hiding their face in the other’s neck. Rating: T. Warnings/Content: Minor angst/fluff. Word Count: 737.

Tag List (asked to be added/removed!): @alyhull @boutmachines @chrisdickinson @lghockey @rubyred1980 @sillynilly27 @simoneinside

(I don’t own gif; all credit to codymania!)

Anyone backstage could hear a pin drop with how silent it was. It took everything in her to not whittle her fingernails down to stubs as she watched one of the monitors. Watched the way that MJF’s face held that pinched, pained look for longer than anyone anticipated as he stalked back up the ramp. Away from his childhood hero, cheeks wet.

Everyone gave him a wide berth and she watched as no one made an attempt to talk to him. They eyed him as he went by, speaking behind their hands in low whispers. It was a vulnerable thing that he did and no one knew Maxwell Jacob Friedman to be vulnerable of all things. Prickly, venomous, sometimes even monstrous.

But she got him to laugh, smile even, in a way that didn’t bite once or twice. More times than he would ever admit. And that was the thought she held onto as she took in a breath and followed after him. She opened the door to one of the stairwells and She could hear his ragged, rattled breaths. Like he was trying to control it but it was too much. He sat on the second step, dark sleeves rolled up and his head slightly bowed.

“Maxwell?”

He didn’t look up at her and loosely wound his hands together. Cleared his throat to try to steady his breath but it didn’t work. She paused in the stairwell doorway, considered him for a moment, then stepped forward. He tched under his breath.

“Max? Are you okay?”

He scoffed and he slowly raised his head to look at her. His narrowed eyes fixed on her and his tongue pressed hard against the inside of his cheek.

“Are you okay? Are you serious?”

His voice dripped with that familiar malice and she blinked at him, measured and controlled as she waited him out. He stood up and halfheartedly sneered at her.

“It’s always you, huh? Fucking 'course it is. God, you're...”

His voice was strained, trying to get back that level tone of his but it was clear he was struggling. Max was only inches away from her and he ducked his head to meet her eyes.

“You…You are, without a doubt, the most annoying person I’ve ever crossed paths with,” he said. He worked his jaw and whether he knew it or not, the anger in his voice became tired the longer he talked. “And don’t even get me started on the sound of your voice. Always asking if I’m okay or how I’m fucking feeling. You wanna know if I’m okay? You wanna know how I’m feeling?”

He was almost nose to nose, chest to chest, with her and she felt every heavy, unsteady breath of his as he nearly crowded her back against the wall. One hand against it, just above her head as he looked at her. Max waited. Watched her intently with red-rimmed eyes, soft with tears. Then he couldn’t help but sniffle softly, another drop down his cheek, and she gently smiled at him.

“I do,” she said to him. Smoothed his slightly rumpled shirt with her hand and he let her. Felt him slightly brace under her touch. “So, Max, are you? Okay?”

Max stared at her, the hard edge of his jaw slightly softening and then the sharp stone of him collapsed against her. His head fell to the curve of her shoulder and his hand dropped, made a path down her arm. Fingertips brushed against hers but didn’t stay long and he pressed closer to her. His nose nudged against her skin as he turned into her and his breaths kissed along her neck, featherlight. Carefully, she settled a hand on the back of his head. Gently massaged the skin with slow circles.

“This doesn’t…” he murmured against her neck, a low vibration that made her hum. Quiet tears wet her skin but she didn’t mind it as he all but rested his entire body against hers. Sought out something he didn’t often look for or find. “I still think you’re annoying.”

She huffed a quiet laugh through her nose and she felt the curve of his smile against her neck. Their quiet and unspoken yet strange softness between each other settled unsteady waters. He breathed easier against her and she shut her eyes, welcomed him and told him without words that it was alright.

“Of course you do, Max.”

#mjf fanfiction #mjf fic #mjf imagine #maxwell jacob friedman imagine #aew imagine #aew fic #aew fanfiction #wrestling fic #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfiction

[lancearcherinrippedjeans]

Masterlist

(Updated as of January 2022)

All the fics written by yours truly, some of these are old and bad, but some are newer and improved! <3

Rules of Requesting

Emoji Anon List

A - Angst

F - Fluff

S - Smut

S  - Implied Smut

Eternity

Veronica, Sawyer and Nova were just a couple friends with a dream to make it big. When Tony Khan sees them in person, will their dream come true or will it all come crashing down?

Chapters: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Eternity One-Shots

- If You Seek Amy (Kenny Omega x Veronica Rodriguez)

Kenny drags Veronica away from the bar and her friends, where did he take her? What happens at said place? (Read after chapter 2)

- The First Date (Ricky Starks x Nova Jay)

It's finally the day that Ricky has been waiting for, and the night that Nova didn't want to end.

A Day at a Time

Kelani Williams and Jasmine Scott. Polar opposites, but best friends. Jasmine faces struggles in her relationship, while Kelani struggles being in a relationship at all. But they’ll figure it out, a day at a time.

Chapters: Part 1 | Part 2

One-Shots

“Hangman” Adam Page

Let’s Play Hangman F/S

Adam Page x OFC/Reader

You and your roommate play hangman, but with a twist.

Brendan Vink/Duke Hudson

The Tale of Two Aussies...and a Ride Along...and a Love Triangle A/F

Shane Thorne x Reader/Brendan Vink x Reader

A ride along with Shane Thorne and Brendan Vink, but something seems...off.

Leads to old blog, but it’s one of my favorites, and it’s one of my best works

Cash Wheeler/Dash Wilder

Moving On A/FCash Wheeler x Reader/Kenny Omega x Reader

Y/N gets cheated on, so she tries to move on

Finn Balor

A Little Help F

heel!Finn Balor x Reader

Finn helps you in a match

Kenny Omega

Sick Day F/C

Kenny Omega x Reader

You take care of Kenny while he’s sick, but when you get sick, it’s the other way around.

Moving On A/F

Cash Wheeler x Reader/ Kenny Omega x Reader

Y/N gets cheated on, so she tries to move on

Maxwell Jacob Friedman

The Real You A/F

MJF x Reader

The MJF character starts to get to Maxwell’s head. He doesn’t realize he’s slowly losing the love of his life

Shane Thorne

The Tale of Two Aussies...and a Ride Along...and a Love Triangle A/F

Shane Thorne x Reader/Brendan Vink x Reader

A ride along with Shane Thorne and Brendan Vink, but something seems...off.

Leads to old blog, but it’s one of my favorites, and it’s one of my best works

Wardlow

Kiss the Ring? Or the Bodyguard? F/C

Wardlow x Reader

You’re at ringside with Orange Cassidy against MJF. But to cause a distraction, you do the first thing that comes to mind.

Dating the Bodyguard? F/C

Wardlow x Reader

The tables turn, Wardlow distracts you in a match. The whole night he tries to ask you something but there’s always an interruption.

✞ 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢 ✞

ICBeing The Elite

ICBeing The Elite Masterlist

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #wwe #finn balor #seth rollins #finn balor fanfic #shane thorne #brendan vink #dolph ziggler #masterlist #parker's masterlist

[doedreamss]

howdy miss co-vice mayor ma'am.... i'm here to humbly request.... mayhaps some mjf fic 👀👀👀 i was thinking. and i don't want to write this myself bc i know it'll never be good enough but i love your writing more than i love anything else. but just. Hate Fucking ? with mjf? bc let's be real. that'd be.... PHEW chile. that'd be good. ofc u don't have to!!! feel free to delete this if u want i swear i won't be mad!!!

my dearest and most wonderful dirt, i do hope this shows you how much i truly love you and how serious i was when i told you i did.  also this isn’t exactly hate fucking like I think you had in mind, so hopefully you still like it?  

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * *

SAY THANK YOU

Ship: MJF x Nameless Female OC

Summary: MJF catches a nameless female character backstage after a show and forces her to cave to the fact that she’s sexually attracted to him, even though she hates how egotistically cocky he is.

Rating: Explicit (very descriptive smut)

!!! WARNINGS !!! : Name-calling degradation, pressured to have sex, public sex, unprotected sex, forced orgasm, slapping, facial (the naughty kind)

Length: 2,647 words

“Whythe fuck would I ever want to sleep with you?” She arched a perfectly shaped brow and let her eyes fall down thethick-figured man standing in front of her.  

He stood in front of her withhis wide palms framing his hips, head tilted, and arrogant expression carved sonaturally across his face it seemed it was always meant to wearit. He was smiling, and it was that same smile he always had,faintly touched with boyish arrogance worn on a man large enough to winthe fight when push came to shove.

And there’d been one time,when no one had been in the room but him that she’d stopped in the doorwayand watched his broad, bare back to her.  He’d been holding his phone, mutteringsomething under his breath, voice softer than the hard edge he often worethat dripped with haughtiness.  She’d blinked and stilled, watchinghim, unsure why it felt like she’d stumbled on something private.  Heathad risen gently into her cheeks, but he was still wearing his pants,between dressing into his trunks from his suit.  The carve ofhis muscles beneath his skin, the width of his arms, were enough tomake her mouth dry.  Her weight shifted, pressing the fat of herthighs together as the muscles between her legs clenched with want.

She remembered that the soleof her boots had made a gentle scraping noise.  He’d turned and she’dscurried, ducking behind the half-closed door so he wouldn’t haveseen she was watching him.  He’d blinked at the empty space where she’d beenbut seemed to have decided he must’ve heard something and glanced back at hisphone again.  Her heart had been pounding in her chest, pulsejumping in her throat.  She’d managed not to get caught watching him.

Now, hanging out backstageafter a show, he’d approached her, cornered her in a hallway and asked herwhen she was finally going to get the courage to admit she wanted to spenda night with the salt of the earth.

He laughed as though they hadan audience, but it was just the two of them and the empty equipment caseswaiting for the show props to be broken down and packed back away.   

“Baby, honey, please.”  One of those hands left his hipto touch her shoulder.  A breath through his nose that was more like alaugh.  He squeezed, just teasing how tight his grip could be, and thenreleased.  His fingers gently stroked across her skin and she had toclench her teeth to keep from reacting.  She didn’t want to give himthe satisfaction.

“I’m Maxwell Jacob Friedman,” hesaid, as if he were naming a king.  His other hand lifted toher other shoulder and he held her and pulled her body in a little closer. “And you’re a fucking skank who’s dying to get on the maximum ride.”

“Shut the fuck up!” She snapped, reaching to smack at his thickforearm with the intent to push her away from him.

His fingers tightened theirhold instead so she wouldn’t break it.  Her heart pounded alittle harder.  There was a hard sort of edge against his thinlips as he smiled, jutting his chin upward and staring down his broad noseat her.  He looked at her like he knew for absolute fact any denialof her attraction of him was a lie.  For a minute it made her questionherself, wondering if she’d ever drunkenly confessed to someone thatsometimes, when she watched MJF backstage, her eyes lingered just a littlelonger than normal.

No, she’d never toldanyone.  He was too much of a dick.  She had enoughself-worth to keep herself from ever going down that road.  MJF was themost disrespectful person she’d ever had the misfortune of knowing. 

“Let go of me rightnow.”  She kept her voice level and forced herself to meet his eyes,pulling on her hatred for the corner he was backing her into rather thanhow her body reacted to him.  She wanted to sound serious.

“Or what?”  Heasked and pinched his brows together, so prominent worry lines creased hisforehead and those sad eyes looked even more so. His lips pursedmockingly in a pout. He leaned in, the tips of their noses gently brushing. His next words were a hot whisper on her lips, to which his eyes hadfallen to, watching them instead of her.  “Why don’t you do what your bodyis beggingyou to do, be a good girl, and get yourself that kiss you’ve beendaydreamingabout for so long?”

She hated him more than she’dhated anyone else in her entire fucking life.

With one quick motion sheshoved his hand off her shoulder, leaned back and smacked the flat of herpalm as hard as she could against his stubbled cheek.  The smackresounded around them, bouncing off the cement walls of the hallway. Her hand stung.  There was a red mark on his skin.

His eyes flashed dangerouslyback to her.  They were dark.  He reached up to gently touch whereshe’d slapped him.

The seconds that passedbetween them felt like they drug on for hours.

She threw her body at his,knowing she’d only knock into him, but not knock them over.  Herarms came around his neck and she pushed herself on the tips of her toes,rubbing her body up his and smearing her lips against his.  He pressedback immediately hard, no pause of shock or surprise, and drove her intothe wall with enough force to knock the air out of her lungs.  Hedidn’t letup, mouth still holding her lips and tongue pressing and wrapping around hers.

He pulled her arms away fromhis shoulders and down between their bodies. With one hand he could hold herwrists, and he pinned them, squeezing just tight enough to make them ache. She jerked them upward, trying to free them from his hold, but heonly held tighter.  She pulled her mouth off his and the back of herhead pressed on the hard cement wall he’d flattened her on.

“I fucking hate you,Maxwell.”  Every breath off her tongue tasted like him.  “You’re sucha piece of shit.”

“How wet are you rightnow?” He whispered back with a breathy laugh.

“You’re disgusting!”

The hand not trapping herwrists reached, fingers greedily pushing at the fat between her thighs. Sheopened her legs for him, and he grinned.  Her stomach rolled and thentightened.  He reached up beneath her skirt, slipped under theelastic of her panties and between her lips with precision.

“Judging by how drenched youare, I’d say you don’t find me disgusting at all,” he whispered, thumbcircling her clit and inspiring a rush of electricity down between herlegs.  “How much do you moan my name at night when you’re lonely in bed,fucking yourself and wishing it was me?”

“Shut the fuck-” she groundout through clenched teeth and he flicked his thumb hard back and forthover her clit, making her moan and her thighs shake before she could stopherself “-Up!”

He pressed his lips againsther jaw, down her neck.  His teeth pinched her skin hard.  Two of histhick fingers sank up inside her, and his thumb kept teasing thatsensitive little button.  She moaned to feel the way his fingers pressed andstretched at her insides, mimicking how his cock would fill her.  Shamewashed hot over her body.  They were out in the open, backstage at a show. Someone was bound to come by any minute and find MJF pinning heragainst a wall, fingering her into delirium.

Before she could cum, hisfingers slipped back out and he stopped touching her clit.  He left heraching and needy.  Holding his fingers up beside their faces, he pulledthe two apart that’d so rudely filled her.  Her wet was sticky and bridgedbetween them.  He smiled when their eyes moved from it, to eachother’s gazes.

“Go on,” he beckoned,mockingly sweet, “tell me what you want.”

She clenched her jaw,squirming under that all-too-knowing look.

“Tell me,” he said, with alittle more force in his voice, pulling her wrists down a little andgiving them a squeeze.

“Fuck me.”

The triumph of his grinturned her on and made her hate him even more.  He released herwrists and tugged up her skirt.

“Not here!” She hissed, eyes widening in a panic as she glanced down either endof the hallway.

But his thighs were pressinghers into the wall and he’d bunched her skirt up between their hips,pinning it there with their bodies.  Both his hands were undoing thebutton on his slacks and reaching beneath the elastic of his underwear topull his thick, hard, leaking cock free.

“Maxwell, anyone can see us!”

His knee smacked hers,impatiently moving her legs apart.  Though her words said shewas going to deny him, her legs spread wider with the haste he demanded. She wasn’t pushing him away – her hands had gone to his bare biceps,holding the thick, firm muscle underneath.  He drove his hips up, and hisgirthy cock spread between her wet lips, the fat head flicking herswollen, already layed with clit.  She bit back her moan,trying not to let the sound spread down the halls.  He dippedhis hips and drove them up again, this time pushing himself up inside her,and not stopping until she couldn’t take any more.

“No,” she tried to say, butshe moaned and whined when he pulled out and shoved up again, shifting thefat of her ass against the cement wall.  “You’re a fucking – nngghh – dick, Maxwell.” Her fingers dug into his arms.  “I hate you.”

“Oh yeah?”  Heasked in a hot breath against her ear.  “Seems to me – aughh mmmff – you can’t deny howbadly you want me.”

He leaned so his hand couldsqueeze between their bodies, thumb beginning to flick her clit as hiscock pumped raw in and out of her pussy.  

“You’re going to cum, aren’tyou, you stupid slut?” He asked, mocking the pleasure he was inspiring andrubbing her clit a little harder, syncing the shove of his cock up insideher with it.

“Fuck you,” she spat.

Maxwell took his fingers fromher clit and gave it a hard, quick slap.  She half screamed, halfgroaned behind clenched teeth, tingles shooting down between herlegs.  Another slap.  Her eyes rolled.  He startedflicking her raised, surely red clit again, and shoved his cock hard up insideher.

Despite wanting to hold offso she could laugh at him and call him a failure for not making her cum,she couldn’t deny the precision with which he touched her, or how good hiscock felt spreading her muscles around it.  She hated it.  Shehated him.  She hated knowing from now on, every time he caught herlooking at him, they’d have this memory to play back in their head. The day her body betrayed her while he fucked her up against thewall backstage, like some pathetic slut.  She hated every time she walkeda spot backstage like this one was, she’d remember when she let MJF push her upand fuck her against the wall.

Her breathing was coming inneedier, sharper gasps.  Her moans were spilling one into the other. She was shaking.

“Cum,” he demanded, and her thighs wanted to clap together, butcouldn’t, spread around him as they were.  They squeezed either side ofhis hip instead.  She jerked forward, forehead pressed against hisbare chest, and came.  The muscles of her cunt squeezed and pulled athis raw cock shoved up inside her.   Her lips were stuck wide open and shemoaned long and low, quivering and twitching around him.

He chuckled and gingerlypushed her back by her shoulder to flatten her against the wall again. His fingers caught her chin and he brought her eyes to his. They were dizzy with satisfaction, a fog of pleasure laid over them.  Hishand was still between her legs, but he spared her sensitive, twitchingparts from his touch.  She blinked, trying to clear her vision and refocuson the face of the man who’d forced her to orgasm on his cock.

“Say thank you,” he demanded,arching that brow again.

“What?” She blinked.  

“Say thank you.”  Hesighed as if he were disappointed that he needed to repeat himself.

“Fuck you,” she said, thoughher voice was weak.

The hand that’d been betweenher legs reached up and slapped her across the face.  Lightly. More lightly than when she’d smacked him, though still firm enough tosting.  To shock.  Some of her wet cum that’d been on hisfingers as he played with her stuck against her cheek.

“Try again.”  He said,voice dangerously low, and shifted his hips to push more of his cockinside her.  She whined, uncomfortably tight and forced to take more ofhim than her cunt had room for.

The hand that’d slapped herrested around her neck.  He tilted his head and arched a brow and histhumb stroked down her skin.

“Thank you.” Her voice was small.  Shame curled in her gut.

Maxwell’s mouth spread into asmile and he took his hand off her throat and pulled his still hard,throbbing cock from her cunt.

“On your knees,” he demanded,and placed a palm on her shoulder, shoving her down whether she wanted togo or not.  His fingers wrapped around his cock, which was stillimpressive, even held by a hand as large as his.  It was wet with her cum,and his hand slid up and down, pumping in a mimic of the way he’d beenfucking her a minute ago.  He was trying to hurry, to cum fast incase someone came down the hallway. He groaned and grunted above her.

His other hand shot to theback of her head, fingers curling tight in her hair and holding her still,right under the head of his leaking cock.  The back of her skull throbbedwith how hard he held her there.  It wasn’t necessary, but just a flex ofhis power.  He could have her however and wherever he wanted.

“MMmngggfuuuck,” hemoaned, and the muscles of his thighs seemed carved of stone right before heerupted in ribbon after ribbon of hot cum, cloaking her face without care. His ass squeezed as he emptied his balls on her, then dropped themeat of his cock against her skin and smeared it a little bitmore over her face.  Satisfied, panting, he stepped back, pulled hisfingers from her hair and gently pushed her face away before quickly shovinghis messy cock back into his underwear andzipping his pants up.

She pressed her palm on thewall, trying to get herself up, blinking through cum stuck on her lashesand smeared into her hair.

“I think this is theprettiest I’ve ever seen you,” he said, though his voice was a little bitmore winded, and he couldn’t catch his breath enough to laugh.

“You’re such a fucking dick,”she spat, wiping his cum from her eyes and looking around for something toclean up with before someone sawher.

“Let’s do this again soonsweetheart,” he replied, and reached to slap her ass as she turned, havingseen a towel laying nearby and wanting to grab it.  She jumped at thesting of contact and spun around to smack him, but he was already walkingaway, only throwing a quick wink and another grin at her before he turneda corner and disappeared.

#dirrrtydeeds #mjf #say thank you is the title of the fic btw lmao #also bless u about loving my writing????? #i hope you still love it after this lmao #also gif credit to me because YES i made a gif specifically for this fic req

[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

[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 (?) but is it, childhood friends to lovers, depiction of toxic relationships, intimacy and commitment problems, childhood traumas, jealousy, possessiveness, physical and verbal abuse (in the third scene things gets a bit heavy), bullying, hints of anti-semitism, everyone is a walking red flag, angst, fluff, smut.

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Chapter 3.

Six Years Ago.

“Time’s up, kitten,”

Stella chose to ignore him.

She stayed perfectly still, curled up under his arm, pressed by his side. Her arms wrapped around his waist; face nuzzled in his chest. They both knew better and still, they both didn’t let go. Even when he was the one who tried reminding her they had responsibilities waiting for them, he was easily tempted to forget the world.

Max pressed a soft kiss on her forehead before leaning his chin on her head, squeezing her even tighter.

“I don’t want to go,” she started, feeling tears gathering again and pressing behind her eyes.

“I know.” He lulled, cradling her slowly. “Me either.”

Stella didn’t hint to move even an inch.

She had graduated from college just before the Summer. And now, she was about to hop on a plane to California. Stella had been admitted to Stanford, enrolling in their four years of law course. And she perfectly knew that was her path. Her future wouldn’t have had any better chances than that. Stanford law was the endgame.

But she also knew everything would have been different now.

It was selfish. Maybe even stupid. But thinking of being on the other side of the country, at times even the other side of the world, compared to Max, made her chest ache.

She knew it wasn’t a goodbye. But it sure felt like one.

“Promise me,” she sniffled, looking up at him, not even trying to hide her tears, “You promise me we won’t lose touch, okay?”

“Oh, baby,” seeing he was just as moved as she was made her crumble.

“Promise me, Friedman.” She needed to hear it. “We’ll keep in touch every day. And we’ll visit each other no matter what.”

Max cupped his big hands around her face and made sure she looked straight into his dark eyes. “You know I will.”

She sighed, releasing some of her sadness and finding solace in that closeness. Stella wrapped her hands around his wrists, trying to hold onto him, and pressed her cheek into his surprisingly soft, warm palm.

“I can’t be without you. So, don’t think that California is far enough, fuck, anywhere wouldn’t be far enough.” He continued.

Stella melted into a smile.

It was so easy for her to just dive and drown in his gaze. There was a type of warmth and affection he didn’t allow anyone else to receive. It was only hers, and it was intoxicating. Max was like the worst drug to her. She had accepted to be only friends, forever starved of her desires, forever blind to her real feelings, only to keep receiving her dose.

“Right, I should probably go.” She sighed sadly.

“Yeah, you should.”

And yet, she didn’t hint at moving away from him. If possible, she moved closer.

Stella left her hold on his wrists only to raise her hands to his neck. The brush of her fingertips on his skin was soft, it was as if she was pulling him into a hug, although her move was way greedier than that. Something that would have granted her high now, and that would have revealed itself to be tragically toxic later. She knew it. Stella was well aware. And chose to pretend there was nothing abnormal in their behaviour.

Max didn’t oppose her. He was selfish too. The most selfish of them all, in truth. But Stella would have never held that against him. He knew exactly what she was looking for and was ready to deliver the only way he knew how.

He propped her face up, pressing a thumb under her chin and met her lips in a soft kiss.

Everything had disappeared around them. It was easy for her to forget she was standing by the gate of her flight and the queue to embark was running out. The attendants had been called to boarding already twice. And yet, that was all so unimportant now.

Their kiss was only a brush of the lips. Nothing more. Nothing less. Stella was naïve enough to think that until there was no tongue, then she could pretend them kissing on the lips was a normal occurrence between friends.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened. Max and she had kissed before, just like that. Softly and quietly, they collectively had decided to keep pretending it didn’t also mean their hearts were touching.

It started off like a joke, in a bar. Their friends had challenged them to prove they were only friends and kiss. They were all drunk and better decisions could have been made, that night, but better judgment had escaped them. So, they kissed. And then Stella had to pretend in front of everyone that it felt like kissing her brother.

It didn’t take long before Max and her found each other alone and decided to try again. It wasn’t like kissing her brother. Not in the slightest. That second time, she had to fight against herself not to let her dormant desire awake. And she knew Max was of the same idea. If he had thought it to be as disgusting as kissing his sister, then why keep kissing her?

It became a habit of theirs. Not for the day-to-day, but some occasions may require a kiss on the lips every now and then. But it always stayed vanilla between them. She had never pushed herself any further than holding onto him, maybe daring to push just her fingertips through his curly hair, but never more than that. And Max had never hinted to wishing to go any further than that either.

So, that was it. A kiss. Honest and mostly sad.

Stella pulled back, releasing a soft sigh, but Max didn’t let her go, not yet. He kept her close and pressed his forehead on hers.

“I love you,” he whispered softly.

She let his words sink in, doing her best to not let him rip her apart. And failing. “I love you too.” Oh, if only he had known. “Goodbye, Maxwell.”

Present Day.

Driving back to Manhattan was taking the best part of an hour, but Stella didn’t mind it at all. Being stuck in a sea of traffic and lights, with the Big Apple's beautiful skyline on the horizon wasn’t at all bad. Part of her was almost dreaming of getting stuck in a traffic jam only to be home late and have an excuse to cancel her plans with Greg.

She could have lied and cancelled her plans regardless, but where was the fun in that? Where was her integrity? There were still things they needed to resolve, like his hectic behaviour of that afternoon and how she expected an apology for all the words he had said and the names he had called her.

But also, there was a dark side of her, that just craved the chaos and the pain.

It was something Stella didn’t like to face all that often. It liked her to find herself in miserable situations. There was a broken side of her that had found a way to cope with the way things always went in her life. If her anger and hate could be directed to a specific, tangible cause, she had no reason to focus on the real reasons why she was so unhappy, unfulfilled and always disappointed.

It was a coping mechanism like any other. A version of self-destruction.

And now the thing she had chosen to hate and the miserable situation she had decided to bask in was Greg. He gave her all the ammo she needed to fire at her disheartened without her having to face reality.

“That poor man. Stella, you are driving him insane.” Anissa chuckled from the other side of the line.

After what she had to go through that afternoon and knowing what was expected of her that evening, Stella needed nothing more but a good chat with her best friend. Anissa and she had met at Stanford some years ago and had been friends ever since. They didn’t always see eye to eye on many things, and yet, they had never argued for longer than a couple of days.

“Me!? Don’t blame me! He’s the one acting crazy! He knew I was with my sister this afternoon and still proceeded to send me hundreds of angry messages!”

“Sorry, I phrased that wrong. He is totally abusive and you should drop him.”

“Thank you very much. I don’t even know if I want to see him tonight.”

“And the fact that you must watch Max on tv, and Greg loses his shit when that happens has nothing to do with this last statement, yes?”

“Nothing at all.”

Anissa giggled. “I do not get why you keep dating him. You don’t even like him and you two definitely aren’t a match. He’s too… What’s the word?”

“Stiff? Grey? Bland?”

“Precisely! Plus, he’s a psycho.”

“Yeah,” Stella sighed, knowing she was right. The best decision for herself was to break up with Greg. Especially since she didn’t feel anything for the guy.

“Then why? Does he fuck you so well that is impossible to let him go!?”

“God, no.” Stella let go without even thinking about the truth of her words. More than that, her defeated tone meant it all.

They had sex only once. Recently. She had thought that maybe her emotions would have defrosted if she had let passion creep through. But she should have known better. She should have listened to her body. And yet, she didn’t and ended up feeling stone cold, looking at the ceiling over his shoulder, just waiting for him to finish. She didn’t even try to make it pleasant for him. She didn’t waste any energy faking. She wanted Greg to know she wasn’t with him at that moment.

She had decided that the lack of desire and pleasure she felt was his fault and wanted to hurt him.

God, only thinking about it made her shrink. She had been cruel and she was aware.

That too was something Stella hadn’t told anyone, not even Max. Too ashamed to reveal her true colours.

“Poor girl, I think you need some good dick. That would solve many of your current problems,”

“Anissa!”

“What? It’s true! When was the last time you got fucked good?”

The fact that Stella had to think about it confirmed Anissa's words.

“We are no charity cases, girl. We are empowered, strong women. You need to get with a guy that knows how to fuck you properly.”

Stella blushed violently, hiding behind a nervous laughter. “Anissa stop,” but she wasn’t done with the wisdom. “I am serious, girl. If you found yourself some good dick and a guy that actually feeds into your desperate need for adventure, then you might be able to forget all the shit between you and Max.”

“Don’t bring Max into this, please.”

“No? Don’t pretend even for a second we both don’t know exactly what I am talking about. You can’t spend the rest of your life withering away, never getting what you want.”

“I don’t want Max. Not in that way. He’s my friend.”

“And I am the Queen of England.”

“Shall I start referring to you as your Highness, then?”

“Bitch, don’t even start with me. Have you answered even one of Greg's texts this afternoon?”

“I did just before getting in the car so I could tell him to calm the fuck down and that I would have seen him later. I was busy I told you!”

“But you had time to have a snuggly chat with Max and to send him live updates about your sister’s dress choices and to flirt about fucking bride dresses, uh?”

“We weren’t flirting.”

“Who the fuck dares to ask you which dress you would have picked if not to see you in it.”

“It’s not like that, he was joking.”

“Joking my ass. This is my problem with the guy, right? You two are a couple except for some reason you aren’t admitting to it and keep bringing other people into this toxic situationship you got going on. And then you both get fucking surprised when your partners get upset!?”

“Ok, except we are not a couple, Anissa.” Stella was really trying not to get angry and protective about her business, but she was failing.

The truth was she knew exactly what Anissa was talking about. But she didn’t want to hear it. And she didn’t want to argue with, yet again, another person.

“No? What about the copy of the key you got to his place? And let’s all remember he gave it to you during a fancy date? Speaking of dates, are you going to tell me that’s not what you do when you take each other out all the time? Or what about the fact that he got a drawer full of his own clothes in your bedroom? And don’t even get me started on the way you behave around each other.”

“And what would that be, let’s hear it.” Stella tapped her fingers on the wheel, “please don’t stop there, Anissa. You are very opinionated, I wanna hear it.”

“Ok, you want to be like that? Fine. It’s unbearable to watch you around each other and I don’t even date you, guess what the person you date would think seeing you all up against another man!”

“I-”

“Don’t you even try to contradict me because I swear to God Stella I will hang up.” Stella had to bite her tongue and her silence was perceived by Anissa as a free-to-go pass. And she took it. “You two are so physical and you know that.”

“Ok. Say we are. So, what?” 

Anissa grumbled. “You kiss each other on the lips for fuck’s sake! How stupid can you fucking be!?”

“We don’t kiss like that.”

“What? No tongue so it makes it any better? Please, girl. Wake up.”

“Ok.” Stella felt backed into a corner and didn’t know what to do or to say.

There was nothing to say, Anissa was right about it all. She knew how her relationship with Max looked, but she was too used to brushing it all off as normality. It was a toxic habit that became a comfort. To just diminish what she had with Max was easier than facing it.

The last thing she wanted to admit, even to herself, was how her heart ached every time she remembered how they almost had something, but it was never enough.

“Can we get back to how Greg called me a whore in the first place!? Why aren’t we grilling him?”

“Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll get to him in a minute.” Anissa chuckled aggressively, “But I am trying to make you see my point here.”

“And what is your point?” Stella sighed. She rested her arm on the side door edge, letting her forehead fall into her hand. She was exhausted.

“Maxwell is using you and your fascination with him to feed his own massive ego. And you are just totally submissive to it. That is what drives me insane.”

“Have you ever thought about the fact that I might be the one using Max?” Stella lashed out. “Maybe I like being treated like he treats me. And maybe I like the way he makes me feel. And we are friends. It’s always been this way.”

“I do not doubt about that. Please, Stella, don’t take my words the wrong way. It cannot go on like this forever. It’s already been what? Fifteen years?”

“Seventeen.”

“Seventeen,” Anissa chuckled again, “exactly what I am saying! Wake up, the man you want isn’t Greg. Or the guy that came before him. Or any of them. The guy you want is Max.”

“Damn it, Anissa, I can’t do this right now.” Her breath was shaking as she was trying to fight against the tears that burned through her eyes.

Stella felt her heart rolling out of her torn-open chest.

It was true. It was all true. No man would have made her feel complete because she had already found the one. And she could never have him. Maxwell wasn’t the type to ever get there. So, they were to be stuck forever in that situationship.

She knew him well enough to know intimately the kind of problems he was tangled in, and she would have never done anything to jeopardize his wellbeing. Daring to try and change their friendship would have been catastrophic for them, she knew it. And she would have ripped one of her arms off before even thinking to risk losing him.

“Girl, I am sorry. I just can’t see you keep doing this to yourself-”

“I said I can’t do this. Bye Anissa.” As she hung up the phone call, panic started to grow inside of her as anxiety swirled free through her nerves, across her chest and under her skin, making her hands shake.

She thought the decision to break the conversation with Anissa would be the best way to escape the realisation of all of her implications, but she quickly realised her mistake the moment she was left alone inside her car.

The silence surrounding her was pressing and loud.

She started crying, doing her best to keep it as quiet and still as she could. However the more she tried to control her emotions, the more these would fight back, burning wildly through her chest and stomach.

One moment she lied to herself thinking everything would have been fine, and the next she just couldn’t do it anymore. Stella hit the wheel repeatedly, letting out the desperation she had been trying to hide from everyone for years.

When tiredness took over her, washing over her wilder painful emotions, Stella was left feeling empty and cold. She let go of the wheel and dropped heavily on the back of the seat, releasing a small sigh. Then, she did what she knew how to do best, wiping her tears off.

Just now getting back to reality, Stella found herself even more grateful for the slow pace of the traffic she was stuck in. If it had been any other way, she could have risked crashing, losing her mind like that and all.

Another sigh left her chest, making her feel emptier and lonelier than before. Floating above her own emotions and not letting herself feel any of it.

Wiping away another tear escaping her eye, Stella tapped on the radio screen of her car, accessing her phone contacts list. She desperately needed to find a way to cope and escape what was happening. It was so ironic that said way would incidentally be the very reason why she was in that position in the first place.

Selecting Max’s number and starting the call made her nerves calm. She felt like an addict getting through the toxic bliss of a dose after the worst part of her withdrawal symptoms. The familiar noise of the line ringing made her feel stable enough to take a deep breath and relax.

“Babe?” His voice alone made her feel like she was wrapped up in a tight, warm hug.

“Max?” God, her voice sounded shaky. She should have cleared her throat and gathered herself, before calling him.

“Are you ok?” His concern brushed over her skin, making her heart flutter. Everything had already started to feel better. Only now Stella had the certainty she could make it.

“I-” It sounded like he was in a crowded place. “Sorry, I should have texted.”

“Nonsense,” the loud chattering surrounding him suddenly became muffled and distant, “I’m here. What happened? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I am ok.”

“Are you crying?”

“N-no.” She tried to hide away as if she stood right in front of him, wiping her face once more to the best of her abilities. And then, as she caught herself doing it, she felt ridiculous.

“Tell me what can I do, kitten? What’s happening?”

She sighed. “I just wanted to hear your voice.” And I am dying to hear you say how much you love me. She wouldn’t say that. Only thinking about it made her feel guilty and wrong and desperate. Stella cleared her throat. “So? Tell me something.”

“Uh- sorry, you caught me off guard.” Max paused, “I can’t think, I need to know you are ok.”

“Define ok. If that implies that I must have had a pleasant Saturday afternoon and now I must be heading home to spend a lovely evening relaxing to top the beautiful week I just had, then that’s not it. Far from it.” Stella rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I was happy to be stuck in traffic.” She hoped Max would say something, but he didn’t, he was waiting for her to express whatever was on her mind. “Do you know what it means to be happy to be stuck in traffic for twenty minutes in order to have an excuse to be late tonight and possibly cancel my date?”

“Why don’t you just cancel then?”

“I can’t just cancel on Greg this late. He’ll lose his mind.”

“You can. Fuck him. It’s clear you don’t want to see him. Am I wrong?”

“Ok, so, why even bother dating a guy I don’t want to see?”

“You tell me.”

“Max- I’m drowning here, I- I am serious. I can’t do it.”

He sighed on the other side of the line. “Damn it, baby, I wish I was there.”

“I wish that too.”

“Why don’t you take the evening to yourself? Fuck them all. Go to my place and spend the weekend.”

A smile popped on her lips as she drifted away into the idea of hiding away in Maxwell’s apartment.

She could already picture herself taking a long bath in his massive bathtub. Or cooking a nice meal and dancing to some blasting music. Or just lazing on the sofa with his cat.

It wasn’t something new. She often did it in all honesty. There was a reason if she had the key to his place and he wasn’t bothered at all about her coming and going as she pleased. And she just knew she would have enjoyed the quietness of his home. There wasn’t a place that made her feel safer, ever. Even when they had been kids she often found refuge in his family home. But she suspected that feeling she now craved didn’t come from a place, but from the person that lived in it.

“I should be back by tomorrow night and then I can take you out to dinner and we can try and turn your weekend around.” He continued, trying to persuade her.

“I don’t want to be alone, Maxwell.” She confessed with a sad, soft huff.

“You won’t be. Piper is there, she can look after you. And I am pretty sure she could use the company; she doesn’t like her carer all that much.”

“She doesn’t like anyone that’s not you, babe.”

“Ah, but she likes you. Great judge of character that cat, let me tell you.”

Stella tapped her fingers on the wheel nervously as her eyes drifted into the sea of cars in front of her. The traffic had sped up now and she started to feel the pressure of what was expected of her as soon as she got home.

“That’s not what I mean, though. I’d of course love to spend some time with Piper, but I want to see you.” 

“Then come here. Come to me, kitten.”

“Where? To Philly, are you insane?”

“No. Deadly serious. I can have you on a helicopter in a couple of hours and that should get you here just in time.”

“You are insane.” She still giggled, “How do you know all of that?”

“I am always prepared.”

“Maxwell Jacob Friedman, what am I gonna do with you? I can’t just run away from my problems.”

“Why?”

“Because! That’s irresponsible. They’ll still be there when I come back.”

“Yeah, but you’d still be able to get a break from that shitshow. Think about it, you can get here, enjoy the show, then we can go out with the guys and then tomorrow you can leisure in my fancy hotel. SPA, room service, no-limit shopping, whatever you wish it’s yours. I don’t know what made you tick this way but whatever it is I need to make sure you are ok.”

“If only-” she whispered distractedly, more to herself than to him. She needed much less than a trip to Philadelphia and the promise of living at no expense for a day and being treated like a princess. She knew Max would do it. She wasn’t new to the ways he liked to spoil her, but none of those things would have satisfied what she craved, nor they would have brought peace to her heart.  

She was still so mad at Anissa for what she had said. And more. She was mad because Anissa was truly and fundamentally right.

What she had going on with Maxwell wasn’t normal between just friends. And yet, that’s what they were.

“And what if I tell you I wanted to see you? Then would you come?” His tone was soft and tempting. He could be a devil without even trying sometimes.

Just knowing that was his genuine desire made her choke on her breath. Adrenaline started to flow through her veins, fluttering her heart and igniting her nerves. He wanted to see her, and she was ready to drop everything to run to him.

“Maxwell,”

“I mean it.”

“Ok, say I do that. I get home, pack quickly and fly over. Then what?”

“I told you what we’d do if you get here. I got you baby; I’ll take care of you, and you can spend at least a day without shit happening.”

“And we’d play couple.” Her tone was harsher than she wished it to be.

The second she spoke her heart jumped into her throat and regret washed over her. Maybe she should have thought about saying something like that. Maybe she should have counted to ten before speaking. It escaped her tongue, ignited by her tumultuous emotions and desires and now it was out there, floating between them.

But she also knew it was the truth. It was like Anissa had said. They went on dates, they made each other presents, and they had a spare key to each other home. They kissed on the lips. Not for a second, she had ever doubted Maxwell’s intentions. She knew she meant to him more than any other woman he ever had just as much as she knew what tied them was real. And yet it also wasn’t.

A heavy curtain of silence fell between them.

“What are you saying, Stella?” His tone was now deadly serious. As cold and detached as she knew Maxwell could be. He had never been like that with her directly. Until now.

“You know what I am talking about,” a sour smile popped on her lips as she distractedly kept driving, “It’s our game, is it not? We play boyfriend and girlfriend for a bit, but we never go all the way.”

“Stella,” he choked, but she cruelly ignored it.

“And then we just keep living our usual life,” she continued, “pretending this thing between us it’s fine.” A chuckle left her chest, making her second guessing being totally sane at that particular moment. “We aren’t friends.”

“I-”

“Friends don’t behave like we do.” She wasn’t done. “We are the toxic ones, have you ever considered it? We are the ones that are hurting other people because of this thing.”

“I cannot have this conversation with you right now. I need to go.”

“Fine. Go. Get back to me when you are ready to talk about it. So, I am assuming this is a goodbye.”

“Stella,”

“What? Am I wrong!?”

He released a heavy sigh. “Go to my place.” He was angry now. And somehow, knowing she rattled him made her both feel guilty and excited. “Spend the night. At least I’ll know you are safe there.”

Something dark took over her. The idea that her words had power over him was getting to her head, like the rush of adrenaline, making her dizzy. She wanted him angry. She wanted him to lose it. Maybe that was the way to get a reaction out of him.

Consequences? She didn’t want to know the meaning of it. Not then. Not when she was so drunk on the courage and clarity she never had before.

“Why would I do that? I am not your girlfriend, am I?”

“For fuck’s sake.” His frustration made her heart flutter, “No, you are not my girlfriend, and? I still want to make sure you are ok.”

“I am not okay, Maxwell. Nothing about this conversation is okay. Nothing about us is OK! You know what will happen if I go to your place tonight?”

He huffed tiredly, “what?”

“I’ll get there, and I’ll be surrounded by your things, in your space, and I’ll play pretend.” He mumbled something but she ignored him. “I could walk around naked. But more likely I’ll wear something of yours just to smell you on me. And I will miss you more than ever because I’d know how out of place I am. And then I’ll snuggle in that massive empty bed, and I’ll pretend you’d be there.”

He hissed on the other side of the line, but again, Stella ignored him. “And that’s how you like me, uh? That’s what you like. You want me in your space. You like me around. Just never entirely.”

He chuckled dangerously. “Stella, I swear to God, I’m losing it right now,” and then she heard a thud like he had hit something.

A shiver crossed her spine to the idea he was losing control. She was high on that feeling, it made her feel like she could achieve anything. She could lift the entire world if she wanted. And it may have been only an illusion, but she felt like she had him in the palm of her hand.

“Yeah? And what will you do about it? You are in Philadelphia. And I am here.”

“Stop being difficult. Jesus, what got into you!?”

“Nothing. I am just saying out loud something I should have said years ago. I am done playing pretend, Maxwell.”

“Fine, you want to be like that? Be like that."

"Fine."

"Goddammit, Stella,"

As her high started to wear off, Stella started to realise there was nothing but pain gnawing at her bones.

"I'm sorry," her tone was shaking, "but I mean it. Come and get me, otherwise, I think we should be done."

"Don't do this," he pleaded, "please,"

Max's words ripped a gasp out of her chest.

"Too late." Stella looked right in front of her. She was squeezing the wheel so tight the knuckles went white. "I love you. And it's not enough anymore."

"I need to go." He still hesitated, staying a moment longer on the line before hanging up.

When silence surrounded her once more, Stella felt like she was choking on her own breath. Her chest was compressed shut. Heartbroken.

She tried to wrap her head around what just happened and nothing made sense. Yet, it felt like there was nothing else that could have happened.

For the first time in her life, she had been honest. With herself. With Max. She loved him. And whatever that was giving her wasn’t enough. She needed more and what she truly needed she knew Max would never be ready to give. And the world was spinning so fast around her and didn’t hint to stop.

She had lost control completely. And, incidentally, she had never felt so free.

A smile grew on her lips as tears started falling across her reddened cheeks again. She welcomed the pain with solace, like an old friend. It was consuming and at the same time, it was tranquil.

But she wasn’t done. The emotional starvation that spiralled through her quickly became a hunger for more truths. She needed more chaos. Suddenly, Stella felt the desperate need to see her entire world crumble and go up in flames. And maybe she was acting erratic, spiralling towards complete madness, but she didn’t care.

She hadn’t cared for consequences all that time; she wouldn’t have started then.

Taking advantage of another stop through the traffic, Stella picked her phone up from the charging station and opened Greg’s chat, ignoring the sequence of texts he had sent in the past half an hour.

“I am sorry to do this through a text. I wish I was a better person. I won’t make it tonight. And this isn’t working. You deserve better. Best of luck out there.”

Sent.

Stella wondered if she was supposed to trust her decision-making a moment too late. Everything had been set in motion now. It was late for regrets.

She dropped her phone on the passenger seat and then quickly tapped on the car screen, hitting redial.

Stella tapped her fingers impatiently on the wheel as the line rang and realised she was holding her breath in only when the call got finally picked up on the other side.

“I want you to know that I was considering ignoring you.”

“I am sorry,” Stella blurted out, “I shouldn’t have reacted that way, shutting you out.”

“Girl,” Anissa sighed, “no, you shouldn’t have, but I understand. I shouldn’t have insisted-”

“You were right.” Stella cut through Anissa’s words before she could make even more of a fool out of herself. She had been clowning for seventeen years, after all, it was about time to be done with it. “Max is not just a friend to me. I am sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“No, I am. I’ve been horrible to so many people because of it. I’ve hurt people,”

“You hurt yourself more than anyone, Stella. What’s done is done, let the past go.” Anissa grumbled softly, “Fine, you have been shitty with a few of your exes but, in all honesty, they were the stupid ones if they didn’t see it coming.”

“I need you to be real now, not to be my loyal best friend.”

“I am always both, girl. Listen, what are you going to do now?”

“Nothing. I’ve already done it. I think me and Max are done.”

“What!?”

A wall of pain hit her. She felt it on her skin and into her flesh, like swimming through fine glass. It was tangible and suffocating, making it hard to breathe.

But Stella held a brave face, drying her tears with a quick brush of her fingertips.

“I- I told him how I feel. What I want. And, I do not think he is ready. I don’t think he ever will. So, yeah. This is it. And I just broke up with Greg too.”

Anissa cheered from the other side of the phone, “On fire! Girl, what got into you!?”

“Question of the day,” Stella shook her head and then sighed, “Anyway, now it’s your turn to get toasted. How’s LA?”

Stella kept her eyes pointed in front of her, not that she was paying attention to the traffic, but it was better than risking looking at the screen of her radio and seeing the pop-ups of all the messages coming from Greg.

“Usual. Sunny. Why? Feel like visiting?”

Stella chuckled, “You know what? Doesn’t sound too bad. I might, after my sister’s wedding.”

Right. The wedding. She didn’t even want to think about it. Not now. Not when it would have been her kiss of death.

Anissa burst into laughter. “Bitch you sure will need a holiday. What’s your plan now?”

“Gonna get home and have a long shower. Maybe cry? Then I’ll order myself some takeout and then, I plan to pass out on the sofa eating ice cream.”

“Sounds fucking amazing if you ask me.”

“You know me. Keeping up living the dream.”

Stella wrapped her wet hair into a towel and then, she gave a good look at herself in the mirror.

God, she looked so tired.

She had tried to cancel the traces of misery off her skin with her serums, oils and creams, but it didn’t seem to do the trick. Not to her eyes anyways. Not when she could so clearly see the traces of pain and guilt smudging her expression. Not when she knew the extent of the violent sobs that took over her as soon as she stepped into her house and felt completely naked and alone.

Maybe she should have avoided mirrors for the next few days. Only to give herself some time to recover. Just until Monday. Then, with the start of a new week, there was also the hope of her being able to look at herself. Maybe.

Walking around barefoot, Stella didn’t much care for how cold the wooden floor of her small apartment was. She wasn't really there after all, she was floating, trying to ignore the despair gnawing at her insides. She was only wearing the top half of a pyjama and was ready to settle in on the sofa, which looked perfectly welcoming with its nest of pillows and blankets.

Her TV was tuned on TBS.

She may have known it would have been better not to tempt her pain. Just thinking about watching Max live on screen made her so painfully aware of the empty space carved into her chest. Just like his silence.

Max hadn’t reached out. However, she had taken the decision to actively ignore it because just thinking about it made her spiral into the void of fearing he would never reach out ever again. And how could she ever deal with that level of mourning?

And yet she couldn’t keep away. It was her guilty pleasure.

No one needed to know. No one needed to see how small and desperate she could become only to feel connected to him, even if in such a fleeting way. Even if that made her pathetic.

Though, despite it all, there was peace settling into her, now.

That was at least until her door was shaken by three firm knocks.

Stella flinched and froze, looking over at the thin wooden panel.

Her heart started to beat faster and faster. As adrenaline buzzed through her nerves, she felt her skin warming up for the first time in hours. Her eyes were suddenly brightened and even a smile grew on her lips.

It couldn’t be.

But what if it was?

What if-

She threw herself at the door, opening it up with all the outburst of expectations to find, on the other side, a Max that had dropped everything just to get to her. In her head, she was already picturing how sweet it would have been to be finally swooped into his arms with no remorse, no pain, and no more fear.

Though reality was quickly slapping her in the face.

“Greg?” Her smile died out.

“Expecting someone else?” He wondered dryly.

He looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot. He wore a creased shirt that seemed to be missing a tie. Maybe even a suit jacket. His breath reeked of booze. He held himself up on the door frame, just as if he feared he would stumble if he stood up straight. But worse, was the look he had. Crazed and unstable. Somewhat dangerous.

A cold shiver crossed her back. All of a sudden, Stella didn’t feel safe. It was an unexplained feeling that gathered behind her neck. Everything inside of her shouted to run.

She acted without thinking clearly. Stella checked the corridor around Greg before looking back up at him. Before she could say anything, or even try to pretend to be welcoming to maybe put him at ease, she instinctively hid herself behind the door.

What a mistake.

Greg acted immediately and pushed the door open. “Oh, c’mon, don’t tell me I’m not welcomed all of a sudden, uh!?”

“I-”

Before she could even try to say anything, he was inside her house. Greg gave her a harsh push hurling her in the middle of the room, far enough for him to have access to the door and lock it.

Stella's fear grew. She felt her blood pound into her ears. She didn’t even try to fight him but took advantage of the time he took to fiddle with the lock to move across the room and around the small kitchen table.

“Let’s talk about this,” She tried to appease him, as she looked around, desperately trying to find anything that could be used against him. Though the moment he turned towards her, Stella raised her hands into a peaceful gesture, now her entire attention was on him. “How can I help you?” She continued, deciding that maybe she needed to act casual.

“How can you help me?” Greg chuckled. “Maybe picking up your fucking phone!?” He shouted startling her. “You always run like a fucking bitch to pick it up for him but the moment it’s me, your actual boyfriend, you don’t even bother.”

Stella had to bite her tongue not to correct him in any way. It wasn’t the time to remind him they had never gone official.

“I’m sorry,” she was trying her best not to succumb to her need to run. She had a feeling if she did, it would have prompted him to catch her. And she didn’t want him to put his hands on her. “You are right; I should have picked it up.”

“Am I right?” Greg chuckled again, pinching at the root of his nose. “Of course, I am fucking right! You dumped me through a shitty text and then didn’t even have the decency to pay me the respect or even the care of an explanation!”

He was out of his mind. And she hated that she had to make herself small in order not to get a violent reaction out of him. But she knew the situation would have only gotten worse if she had said what she truly thought.

“I am sorry,” she started, deciding to be brave - or maybe stupid – Stella left her safe spot behind the table and moved closer to him. She knew it only had the appearance of being safe, if Greg had snapped, he could have easily flung it out of the way. Keeping her hands well risen not to appear threatening, Stella approached him. She only needed to calm him down to give her enough of a chance to get out of there. “You are right, I have wronged you. I wish I could justify it with having a bad day, but it still wasn’t fair on you.” Greg didn’t react, which prompted her to place a shaky hand on his chest. Since he still didn’t move, she cupped the other around his jaw, looking straight into his eyes. “I had wronged you so much.”

It was still dangerous. And he still looked completely out of it. She wasn’t safe there, but at least her plan seemed to work.

Greg crumbled in her hold and shrank on her, pressing his face into her shoulder and she did the only thing she could think was right. Taking advantage of his distraction once more, she looked around the room.

He blocked her way to the door, plus it was locked and taking the time to open it would have ruined her chances. She already knew her best way out, if she didn't manage to get him out of her apartment of his own accord, was the fire escape running on the side of the building by her bedroom window.

At least that gave her an out. She would have thought about the rest later.

She still needed to put on clothes. Some sort of pants at least. New York was crazy, but it didn't mean she was willing to get out in the streets in underwear.

Her bag. She needed her bag. That she knew was on the counter behind her.

Her phone? God, where did she put her phone?

She started to panic, looking around. Her heart was beating so quickly that she started feeling light-headed. Trying to keep Greg calm and oblivious, cradling him slowly, was nerve-wracking. He could have switched at any minute. And if he did, she was right under his grasp. If he did, she would have had to fight her way out of there.

The TV in the background chattered. She wasn’t paying too much attention; she was too concentrated on Greg's every tiny movement to listen to Tony Schiavone and Jim Ross talking along one of the matches.

The second the fleeting thought she had it and could make it was the moment Stella regretted every choice she had taken that day.

It happened in a second. One moment Greg appeared harmless as he bent into his insecurities, letting her hold him. And the next, he violently snapped, leaving her no way out.

Greg grabbed her arms and gave her a strong squeeze. Firmly holding her, he pushed her harshly through the kitchen, willingly railing her through the table and against the counter. Stella lost her breath. She had barely time to assess the hit, as a shot of pain exploded through her back and right leg. It seemed unimportant to think about the bruises she would have probably shown in a few hours, and yet, part of her brain escaped there, already at the after.

“You fucking whore,” Greg snarled in her face, “tell me the truth. You are fucking him, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Stella pleaded, trying to push him off her without success. She kicked and wiggled, but he was unmovable. His entire body weight pressed on her.

“No?” He hesitated a moment, only to get back in her face. “Liar!” He shouted.

A split second later, Greg punched her right in the face. She didn’t have any time to react, nor to see it coming and at least try to defend herself. Her head cocked back, hitting the hardwood of the cabinets and hot pain gushed through her skull, making her squeal. Her vision went black. At first, she got disoriented. Her thoughts suddenly light. Her fear was unimportant. Then she felt her blood pumping into her head and she started to fear to be bleeding.

Trying her best to recover her focus, Stella barely had a second to gather herself. Greg wasn’t done. “If I can’t have you. Nobody can.” By then he was manic. “Not even him.” He pushed her against the cabinets once more, just to hurt her and cruelly smiled at her whimpers. “What do you think he’d do once he found out you had been ruined? He wouldn’t want you anymore if you weren’t so pretty and delicate,” he smiled cruelly and a shiver of pure terror crossed her.

He wanted to seriously hurt her.

Greg clutched at her throat squeezing the breath out of her lungs. This time he didn’t contain himself like he did earlier. His fingers dug into the soft skin of her neck, pressing against her jugular.

Stella needed to react. Fast. She would have fainted in a handful of seconds if she didn’t. And the last thing she wanted was to be unconscious around him.

The fear that froze her caught fire, possibly prompted by the adrenaline that raged through her veins. At first, Stella grabbed Greg’s wrist, digging ferociously her nails into his skin, trying to make him loosen his grip. Then, as soon as she noticed she wouldn’t have much success, she moved to his face.

Stella scratched his cheeks causing him to yell. The moment she realised her main thought at the moment was to gather as much of his DNA under her nails as she could, was the moment she decided it wasn’t the time to play safe anymore. She went full-on fight mode and shoved both her thumbs into his eye sockets, pressing vigorously on his eyes until he let go of her.

She didn’t even care about the extent of his possible injuries.

As Greg was destabilised, crying out loud, she took advantage of his loss of balance and gave him a strong push with both arms and legs. Enough to give her a small opening to bolt towards her bedroom.

Stella jumped through the door, remembering to grab her bag on the way, and then locked the door behind her back, taking only a second to rest on the wooden panel and catch her breath. She needed to get out of there. It was about the only thing she remembered clearly. Everything else was so fuzzy. She still felt her head on fire. Her lower back was hurting. The entire left side of her face was numb.

She needed to call the police. But her phone was lost.

A shot of clarity made her remember she had thrown it distractedly on the sofa, which meant it was impossible for her to reach it now.

And then her second of peace to gather her thoughts was gone. Greg hit the door once. Then again. “Don’t be like that, sweety. What you just did wasn’t nice.”

Stella didn’t let herself freeze again. Even if she just wanted to curl into a ball and cry until she would have disappeared, she fought again. Now against herself.

Greg hit the door again. This time he was pounding it down with his shoulder, trying to cave his way through it. “You got nowhere to go. I will catch you. And then you will pay for how you had humiliated me.”

He was out of his mind. And that door may have had perfectly good hinges, but she suspected he would have found a way in, sooner or later.

Losing time was out of the question.

She so wanted to shout at him all the ways she would have made him regret what he had just done to her. She wanted to scare and hurt him just as much as he dared to try and do to her. But she had to swallow her pride and accept that that battle wasn’t to be won there and then. She needed to be alive and well to win anything.

Stella ran across the room and grabbed the first thing she found to cover herself. She hurried to wear a random pair of joggers she didn’t even see the colour of, and then she threw on an uncoordinated cardigan, just to keep warm. Quickly looking underneath her bed, she pulled out a box containing an old pair of shoes she bought on a whim and never wore because they were too pretty and too expensive. They were heels. It didn’t matter.

Holding them firmly, together with her purse, Stella slid out the window and down the set of steep metal stairs of the fire escape. As soon as she hit the ground, she started running literally for her life.

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

[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

[darkorderaf]

Omg, that mjf imagine had me so smiley. Can I request a part two with kiss prompt 19 (but they actually get caught by the inner circle)?

Hell yeah you can. I’m so glad you liked that one. ;_; Thank you so much for your patience and I hope you enjoy its sequel! I sat on this one a lot because I got nervous lol but I hope you like it!

Part 1 here!

Pairing: MJF x OFC. Prompt: “If we get caught kissing we’re dead but let’s risk it”. Rating: A spicy T. Warnings/Content: Heavy makeouts. Word Count: 1616.

Tag List (send an ask to be added/removed): @alyhull @beingthelite @simoneinside @sillynilly27

(I don’t own gif; credit to archbishop-of-maxlow!)

Max walked her the rest of the way to the hotel. Through the lobby to the elevator. Right up to the Inner Circle’s penthouse suite and through the door. His hand stayed wound with hers and she wasn’t sure whether to let go. He wasn’t either as they stood together in the open doorway. She turned to face him, tilted her head up to look at him. His tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, a furrow in his brow.

“They’re going to wonder where you are,” she said. She swallowed thickly. “You...You should probably go back.”

“Do you want me to?”

He met her eyes, his low tone laced with sincerity and a little shaky with something else. Not once had she ever heard Maxwell Jacob Friedman sound like that.

“Not really,” she said. Her voice was quiet and he stepped closer to her to hear her. She didn’t want him to leave because what if when he walked away, that was it? Was it a game to him? The thoughts racing through her head were difficult to grapple with, the whirlwind of the night leaving her unsteady on her feet. It was easier with him there and fuck, she didn’t know what to think about that. Subconsciously, her hand tightened around his. “No. I don’t.”

He pushed the door shut behind them and didn’t look away from her once. His fingertips lingered against the wood of the door. Her breath caught in her throat but he didn’t press forward into her. He waited for her to move first and she wondered if his stomach fluttered like hers did. Damn this infuriating man, she thought, as she untangled her hand from his and gently laid her hands against the lapels of his suit jacket.

“You like me?”

It felt like a silly question to ask but she needed to know. His eyes fell to her parted lips and traced back up to her eyes. A slow breath left through Max’s nose and he nodded.

She liked him too, a curious and raw feeling that lingered in her fingertips. He could be a complete bastard, she didn’t question that, but he had her heart racing completely. Rather than putting it to words, she pulled him down to kiss her and he made a sound like relief against her mouth when he slotted his against hers.

The thought crossed her mind that if the Inner Circle walked through that door, they would never hear the end of it. She absolutely wouldn’t. But right then, she didn’t care. The way Max held her against him, kissed her like she hadn’t been kissed in a long time, was worth it.

It wasn’t hard for them to pick back up where they had started in that alleyway. His hands latched onto her hips again and didn’t dare to go any further. She let go of his lapel to grab his hand and guide it to her ass. He huffed against her, a smirk on his face. That nervous, unsure energy of theirs melted in the heat of the moment and she molded herself against him. He guided her away from the door and lifted her up. Even though his grip on her was tight and his mouth insistent against hers, he took extreme care of her as they walked through the suite. He found the kitchen and lifted her up onto the counter, her arms around his neck.

Max’s hands kneaded the muscle of her thighs, her ass. His fingertips skimmed along where the hem of her dress hit mid-thigh. He never dared to slip under. With every move he made, he surprised her. In a good way. He pulled away from her and mouthed against her neck, his tongue a wet heat against her pulse. She sighed and shut her eyes, her fingers in his hair. His hands settled back on her hips, his grip softer. He breathed against her wet skin. There was a smile in his tone.

“Does this mean you like me too?”

She couldn’t help but snort.

“I think so, Friedman.”

He gently nipped at her skin and she hissed. Tightened her grip on his hair. Did he just whine?

“Yes, Max, it does.”

He found her lips again with his and kissed her with a renewed, frantic passion. She met his energy, her calves pulling him against her as much as she could with her on the counter. She undid the first button of his shirt. His fingers slid higher up on her thigh and he looked at her, a question in his eyes that he couldn’t put to words with how hard he was panting. His fingers hit the weight of her phone in her dress pocket and she froze.

“Max,” she said as she dropped her hands and fumbled with her pocket. “Hold on. Let me, shit, let me text Sammy and let him know, so they don’t--”

The door to the suite shut and echoed. Her phone clattered to the floor. Max’s eyes froze on hers and she closed hers with a wince.

“Let Sammy know what?”

Fuck. She couldn’t think and that precious five seconds lost was all Sammy and Ortiz needed to find them in the kitchen. Max’s hands on her waist, his broad torso keeping her a secret for the time being. Ortiz covered Sammy’s eyes and the younger man yelled in protest, his arms flailing. Ortiz spoke first.

“Woah, what the fuck!? What the fuck, Max, you can’t just bring people in here. Where is she? Did you just leave her somewhere, you asshole?”

The warmth in Max’s eyes that was there when he looked at her drained away and cold took its place. The look he got when he was facing someone across the ring. His jaw tightened and she slowly peered from around his shoulder. Locked eyes with Sammy and Ortiz. Sammy blinked at her, eyes comically large. She gave him a tight smile.

Ortiz’s voice went up in pitch like a scandalized mother.

“Is--Is this what you didn’t want to tell us?!”

“I need bleach,” Sammy gasped out. “I need to bleach my fuckin’ eyeballs, dude. Where’s the Everclear? The fuck even...”

Sammy threw his hands to his sides and exited as dramatically as he could. Ortiz lingered, a look of pain on his face. Max leered at the wall behind her before he pulled away to fix the other man with a look that might have destroyed a small planet. She smoothed her dress down.

“We didn’t hear from you so…” Ortiz started. “So, yeah. I’m just going to go back to the bar and drink like I never saw this.”

“That sounds like a good plan, buddy,” Max said, his voice tight. His fists curled at his sides. “Take Guevara with you, huh?”

The suite door crashed open again and she blanched at the sound of a riotous Jericho and Santana. She even heard the low rumble of a laugh she knew to be Wardlow’s.

“Hey, where’s the bubb--What’s going on? Why’s it so quiet?”

Jericho’s words slurred as he blinked at her on the counter and she took that moment to make a hasty exit. Max smothered the nasty look on his face and laughed loudly to draw their attention away from her. Ortiz shot her a wide-eyed look as she grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and vanished down the hallway. Although Max talked and laughed with Jericho, clinked glasses with the boys like he planned to, his eyes kept going towards the door he knew was hers. When they checked out in the morning, he didn’t want that to be where they left it.

He limited how much he drank and kept an eye on when the others tapped out. After he assured Wardlow that he was fine, the big man wandered off and found somewhere to call it a night. Max slipped off his suit jacket and left it on one of the love seats as he approached her door. Guevara was out in the fountain, Jericho was with...Elvis apparently, and the others were snoring elsewhere. Good enough. He knocked quietly against her door and she opened it slowly. While they were acting like idiots, she had showered and slipped on her pajamas. She looked so warm, so comfortable, that he went to her immediately and she pulled him into her.

Whatever they were, whatever it all meant, she didn’t want the weekend to be the last time she saw him. Really saw him. And he saw her. Really saw her. What she wanted to be, what she could be. They kissed slowly, committed the feeling to memory, and she led him back to her bed. He sat back on it heavily and tilted his head up to look at her.

The fear she had when the Inner Circle caught them had left her in the couple hours since they had seen each other and she looked like someone renewed. She didn’t care that Sammy and Ortiz had caught them. Some part of her wanted them to. Max seemed to read that in her expression as she looked down at him, his hands braced by his sides to keep him upright. His chest heaved as, slowly, she set her knees on either side of his hips. His hands settled against her thighs as they looked at each other, the air between them heavy. His breath spread fire along her neck as he nudged his nose against it.

“You’re fucking beautiful.”

Like her, Max sure as shit hoped it wasn’t true what they said about Vegas. He, of all the awful things to feel, hoped she did too.

#mjf fanfiction #mjf imagine #mjf fic #maxwell jacob friedman imagine #aew imagine #aew fanfiction #aew fic #wrestling imagine #wrestling fic

[darkorderaf]

Prompts 72 and 59 seem like they were made for mjf😭

I completely agree! Apologies for the wait on this. After getting back from my trip, I immediately moved into a new apartment! So it has been a very busy time that's finally starting to wind down. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: MJF x OFC Rating: G. Prompt(s): “How do I even put up with you?” “You’re competitive and so am I, and it’s going to lead to a fight.” Warnings/Content: None! Word Count: 575

(gif is not mine; credit to hotyeehawman)

It had started out with small things. Little things like who could drink their water the fastest or who could jump the farthest. It was during this where she found out that Maxwell Jacob Friedman wasn’t above tearing his suits in order to win nor was she above ruining a pair of her favorite pants just to go the extra distance.

As much of an outright prick and asshole he could be most anywhere else, Maxwell was all laughs and juvenile insults with her. He shot her a smug look as he looked her in the eyes, both of them at eye level. The competition of the hour was who could hold a squat the longest and with the ring unoccupied for the next few hours, that was their chosen battleground. He had suggested it and she couldn’t say no. She scowled back and swiped her arm across her perspiring forehead before extending her arms in front of her again. Maxwell playfully swatted at her fingers.

“Did your knees just pop, grandma? I hope you put batteries in your Life Alert because your ass is going to need it.”

She flipped him off and settled deeper. It burned and her legs shook but damn it, she couldn’t let him win this. She made a point to look like she was just getting comfortable. His face took on that cute, petulant pout and her stomach fluttered. She smiled back and he waved it off with a puff of air before he spoke.

“How do I even put up with you?”

Her smile went crooked into a smirk as she looked over his shoulder. She couldn’t see his eyes but she was sure that there was a devil’s gleam to them as Joey Janela crept down the entrance ramp. Right on time. Maxwell didn’t broadcast it but when he got scared, he could get a little...jumpy. Very few people knew that important detail and she was one of them. Just when she felt herself start to buckle, Joey let out the loudest mix of a hyena laugh and a scream. The look on Max’s face was priceless as the top of his head nearly hit the ceiling of the arena. His ass hit the mat and his eyes burned down the ramp as Joey fled in a streak of neon.

“You son of a bitch! JANELA!”

On shaky legs, she stood and laughed until her stomach hurt. Max’s face and neck flushed red as he frowned at her. She extended a hand to him, a shit-eating and contest-winning grin on her face.

“You need help, grandpa?”

He grabbed her hand but stood up on his own. Max pulled her in close and smirked down at her, his chest rising and falling fast from adrenaline.

“You cheated. You really just used Janela to cheat,” he said matter-of-factly. His hand tightened around hers and his voice lowered a touch. “You’re competitive and so am I, and I tell you what, it’s going to lead to a fight.”

She squared her shoulders back and looked up at him. He was cute when he got serious about the small things but she wouldn’t tell him that. She would never live it down. She squeezed his hand back then let it go to put some distance between them. She made a show of spreading her arms out and gesturing to the ring.

“Whenever you want to ring that bell, Maxwell, I’m game.”

#mjf imagine #mjf fic #maxwell jacob friedman imagine #aew fic #aew imagine #wrestling imagine #wrestling fic #aew fanfiction