#cm punk x you

[harmshake]

Featuring: CM Punk x Fem Reader Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut with a hint of messy ex plot, and Punk bein' a sexy, lil shit but he's a good time so you don't complain (much). 🫠

Happy reading and let's ignore that my break lasted barely two weeks! Read my other Punk fics here, if you'd like. ✨

“Just a little.”

His voice was slightly coarse with sleep still settled in it, but the bass of it still vibrated right through you, feeling good. 

Because it was good. A little would be good. It would be enough. Something to ease the lingering ache, the temper that was still hot and tingling with nerves under your skin. The same skin he flitted over with hands soft and calloused in the grooves between his long, tatted fingers and thumb, those hands just as hot as the nerves he worked up, the blood he stirred up beneath it. Teasing son of a bitch. 

“Stop bein’ a brat and open up for me.”

“I have to go t’work soon,” you reminded him amid a suck of your teeth and then a sharp, short breath breezing past your lips. He was quick to inhale the moan with a kiss to shut you up and remind you that work wasn't important right now. Nothing was more important than the next twenty minutes or so. A little would have to be enough. 

Too many days in between the last time and this time left no time at all, really, the early hours of the morning disappearing with the rising sun and impending responsibilities. Your alarm clock on your phone abandoned on his kitchen counter would go off at any moment. Another reminder that your time here, in his bed, was all too brief—even though you'd spent the night. But, unfortunately, infuriatingly, one night with him was never enough. 

“You gonna make me beg? ’Cause I won’t.” 

He was the brat, to be honest. Pesty and snarky and smirking as he knew how to get his way. His hands massaged the mounds of your breasts, working over your waist, down your hip, and kneaded into your thighs beneath his sheets, still fragrant with his and your cologne and perfume and sweat, those strong fingers curling into your flesh with enough grip that it kinda hurt but felt damn good. It felt good when he handled you like that. 

Gripping and prying your thighs apart and pulling your left one onto his lap. Your pussy was still wet and tender from last night, feeling exposed and needy for his fingers that inched closer to it. His fingertips whispered at the entrance of such a wet, tender, and needy little thing. Because he was going to get his way. Even if it was just a little. His lips on yours smirked a bit with another kiss and flick of tongue to taste that pretty moan you rang with for him. Because he knew he didn’t have to beg for shit when you wanted it, too. When he knew you liked this shit.

“I'll be quick. Promise,” he rang, too, a hushed breath that flirted with a moan to feel how easy you opened up for him (even though you tried to fuss at him—pssh, for what?), how soft and hot you were with nerves strung tight from the anticipation of his touch, softening and purring and clenching tight around his lone finger when he pushed in. Just a tiny push to test the waters and he resisted the urge to drown in it. He’d be “quick” but that didn't mean he wouldn't take his time. Punk was a teasing son of a bitch, after all. He took a slow dip, sinking in with each crook of his middle finger to slip along each hotspot, and there was more than one that made you flinch like this, made you moan like that. 

“Mmnh…deeper.”

“Say please.” He kissed your throat with that snarky, adorable smirk on his lips.

“Phil.” You rolled your eyes at him and then squeezed them shut because ooh. Your warning was rendered useless as he used the pad of his fingertip to caress little circles on the hotspot that set your nerves ablaze with a pulse he could feel with his touch…but your lack of obedience made his touch retreat. “Oh my fucking god,” you huffed with exasperation (he wouldn’t beg but you had to?) and need, of course. “Please. Right there…mm, baby.”

“Ah. There’s my sweet girl…done bein’ brat, yeah?”

Another huff but you were too close to fuss this time. “Yess.”

But he still took his sweet ass time, teasing the spot until he just now nestled deep like you asked minutes ago, the soft and calloused grooves of his palm nestled to your swollen, little clit. The dip of his finger turned into a stroke. In and out, still slow, slipping on your spots and his palm nudging with somehow firm and light presses. A dizzying rhythm and you rang with whimpering moans he silently sang back to you, your thigh splayed on his lap trapping his hardening dick so that it could only rub up on it.

Your moans lifted, still quite quiet, however, in the delicate morning hours. Your voice, your body, your brain barely awake but buzzing, hot and tingling, as he woke it up, little strokes and soft pumps into the wet warmth of your pussy until you rang with a single cry, followed by dozens of heavy breaths that would be mistaken as sobbing if anyone but you two were in his apartment. The walls were mercifully thick, perks of a solid build in a good neighborhood—and good neighbors who minded their business even when they saw you tiptoe through Punk’s door yesterday after likely seeing you rush out last week. Some stupid yelling match that neither of you won and that happened too often (the price you pay for good dick from your ex) and one that they (hopefully) couldn't hear. 

Yet (hopefully) they hadn't heard you yelling again but with sobs and moans last night, that makeup conversation short-lived before he lived between your legs, where he belonged, your hands in his hair, where they belonged. Together where you both belonged…for a brief encounter. Because a little was good. A little sex and even a little verbal tussling was refreshing, a little escape from the real world where dull work, long phone calls, gnawing headaches (that sometimes included him when you bothered to answer his calls), and other bullshit that awaited you was always good.

“You feel s’good,” Punk chimed in your ear. His lips grazed the skin there before finding their place below your jaw, making you shudder. Something like a kiss with lips puckered but more like a place to hide his breath that hitched as he rutted his hips, just so, into your thigh. A heated, needy press that smeared a mess on your skin from his drip and drool at the thick head of his dick. A familiar and beautiful sensation, one that made you moan from it as well as his finger and palm pressed in you and to you, vulgar and beautiful sounds from your pussy as it fluttered and dripped and drooled. “Fuck, baby. You needta cum on my cock like this.”

“Wha–mmm, wait…unhh, Phil.” 

The litany of protest got lost in that sweet ringing of moans as he was already on his knees between your thighs, finger slipping out to slip up on your clit and make room for that thick head to give you another heated, needy press. Little by little, until you felt hot and lush and full. Your eyes could barely focus through the blur of such a delicious head rush and his head appeared as some annoyingly handsome shadow in the darkness of his bedroom that the sun unhurriedly illuminated as it revealed itself from behind the clouds beyond his window. It was when he leaned down, tugging your thighs up to rest on his shoulders, that his eyes swam into view perfectly. Green and glimmering and hooded like the mere sight of you under him was a head rush to him, too.

And yet he didn’t succumb to such a heady spell, opting to drag this shit out and drag his hips back as you gasped and drive them forward as you moaned. Over and over. His hand gripped down into your hip as the other gripped the sheets. Tighter and tighter. You felt your legs quiver with last night’s ache blooming anew as he rutted into you. Harder and harder. Like you didn’t need your legs to walk into work in an hour. Like he didn’t promise it would just be a little something, a quick something.

“Liar.” You hissed the word along his neck where you draped your arms before you let your teeth nip at his skin. He hissed back with a moan or laugh or both and you bit him harder because screw him. “I’m goin’ to—mm, god—I’m gonna be late ’cause of you.”

Punk’s nose skimming the length of your jaw let out a sigh, another laugh and moan, hips suddenly pressing in and going still so you felt him too deep, so your breath got caught in your throat, and so you couldn’t do anything but look up at him as he looked down at you with that snarky, charming, mean, warm glimmer in his eyes as the sun finally shone in full. “Wouldn’t be the first time, sweetheart…but bite me like that again and I’ll make your ass miss work altogether.” 

A threat that sounded more like a good time. His hips stirred back to life with thrusts that threatened to send your sobs through the trembling wall behind his headboard and let his neighbors know nooo, you’re not a brat but yesss, papa, you were his sweet girl and fuuuck, you were cumming. 

Only then did Punk allow himself the pleasure of falling under the spell of your pussy dripping and fluttering for him, head hung low and tendrils of silken hair over his bewitched gaze that watched you watching him, studying how the two of you made such an enormous and exquisite mess from such a luscious, stubborn, little action.

Because a little was good. But a lot was better.

. . .

A Little Rendezvous

Thanks for reading! If you liked, I'd appreciate a reblog or reply. 💓

Tagging: @sayyestoheav3n @xbriexx @sassginaswanmills @headoftheetable @joannasteez

@cry1nwhileimcumm1n @coyotegirl-ramblings @kechiwrites @thlayli-ra @theasiaabattoir

@jimingotthajams @femdisa @ayeeitsali @armanibook @sebbys-cinema

@riverina69 @wrestlingbaby @xkittypunkerx @iguessilikewrestlingnow @empressdede (If I forgot to add you, sorry, please let me know!)

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hey🤭🖤💖

can you please write reader being punk protege and drew using reader against him please?💖💖

cm punk x reader (platonic) + drew mcintyre x reader (platonic)

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️just wwe typical violence

happy face

way before punk rejoined wwe, mcintyre was your mentor. he was the one who helped you gain the confidence you had now. he taught you how to act in and out of the ring. he helped you improve your speech skills and if now you were one of the most successful and loved female wrestler in the company was mostly thanks for drew.

you never meant to turn on him. in your mind, he was still the caring and kind mentor that helped you all of these years.

you didn’t even care about cm punk rejoining the company. it was none of your business.

but you and rhea were best friends and rhea and punk were good friends so the more you hung out with her, the more you hung out him punk too. at the time there wasn’t any beef going on between the two of them so drew didn’t really care about the people you used to hang out with.

but after drew costed punk’s wrestlemania, things started to change.

you had your own match at wrestlemania for the wwe women’s world title and you wanted to be ready. so when drew got booked the same night as you he knew he couldn’t help you train. he was too focus on winning his own championship and you completely understood.

when you told rhea you needed someone that would train with you for wrestlemania, punk saw that as an opportunity and he offered to help you. you were reluctant at first, knowing the beef going on with drew but you couldn’t say no to someone who had so many years of experience and hard work in wrestling.

so you agreed and you let him train you. he saw the big potential you had and he was sure you were going to get that title at mania.

you were backstage watching how punk screwed drew’s victory and how damian cashed in on him the same night. you knew drew was going to be devastated but you didn’t have time to think about that, you needed to focus on your own match.

to say that drew was shocked when he saw punk ringside during your match was an understatement. he was hurt, furious and angry. what was punk doing ringside with you? but he was hurt the most when he saw punk celebrating your victory. he saw how you hugged him and how happy you were when you won and somehow he felt like you were betraying him.

drew left the stadium and never answered none of your calls when you tried to talk to him. you imagined he was upset but you couldn’t imagine he was that angry.

months passed and you were thankful that you were drafted in smackdown, you knew you couldn’t have handled working with an angry drew every week.

till this day he never answered your calls, or your texts. not even when you tried to explain to him what was going on. on the other hand, punk understood your frustration. he knew you and drew had an incredible bond and he was sorry for how the scotsman was treating you.

one night, you were asked to do a segment on monday night raw and you knew you couldn’t say no.

but when backstage your eyes met drew, you probably realised that it wasn’t a good idea. he was still pissed and you didn’t have the energy to fight with him, not tonight at least.

“y/n…” he called your name, knowing that you were able to hear him loud and clear.

you slowly turned and faced him “drew…”

“congratulation on the belt” he said before leaving the room.

the air was thick. you knew he was going to cause pure chaos tonight and even if you wanted to avoid that, you knew you couldn’t.

you opened the show and everyone was shocked to see you there. your promo did not disappointed and everyone, your colleagues included, were so happy to see you there at least for one night.

punk was on the ring now and you were happily watching backstage.

before you could do anything, drew moved to open up the door of your changing room and he took you out.

“drew what the hell?” you almost screamed. his hand grabbed your arm and he was dragging you into the arena. he wasn’t hurting you but he wanted to let punk know how much pissed and hurt he was when you sided with him.

“i’m not gonna hurt you” he whisper and you trusted him. you knew he wasn’t going to do anything on you but drew was a very unpredictable man.

punk stopped his speech the moment he saw you being dragged into the arena by drew’s hands.

“let her go drew!” he almost screamed.

“no…no, i’m not letting her go” he screamed back into the mic. you definitely weren’t expecting to be thrown into this mess, maybe that was the reason the producers wanted you in raw in the first place “i’m gonna talk and you’re gonna listen” his hand squeezed you a little, not hurting you but making you jump from the sudden sensation.

“let her go drew! this is about me and you” punk was beyond mad.

“you fucked me up in front of my friends and family at wrestlemania, you did the same during clash at the castle, in front of all my family, in my hometown…but you took from me the only person who cared about me in this business and i can’t forgive you for doing this” he said, faking a laugh into the mic.

“let her go drew” punk repeated himself but it was like drew wasn’t listening to him.

he slowly dragged you into the ring with him. the two of you facing a worried punk “no no no, i don’t think you understand what’s going on here” he chuckled again “i’m gonna take back what’s mine, from the title you screwed me over at mania! from the glory and the respect i deserve! and lastly i’ll take y/n’s back, because i trained her to be the woman she is today, i did all of the hard work and you’re stupid if you think i’ll let you take credit for all of that”

punk and you met with worried eyes. you wanted to talk with drew and explain to him the whole situation but the way he was overreacting was out of control.

“and you’re right” drew laughed “this is about me and you” he said before shoving you to the ground and letting you watch as he started punching cm punk.

you realised that you were just a distraction. he probably never meant what he said about caring about you. he just wanted to use you to hit punk.

“c’mon punk” drew laughed “show the world your happy face” he kept laughing. this version of drew was honestly scaring you and didn’t know what to do to stop him.

you tried to shove him off of punk but he was stronger and more powerful than you so it took him two seconds to push you on the ground.

“why are you defending him y/n?” drew spat back at you.

“this is not the way to handle things!” you put yourself between a tired punk and an angry mcintyre “don’t put me into this mess because you were the one to never reply to me!”

“you were so busy being friendly with the enemy!” he screamed back but before you could even speak back, punk stood up and punched him right into the face, making the big man on his knees.

“i told you to not bring her into this mess! but you never listen!” punk shouted at the scotsman “she’s able to make her own decisions and she’s able to understand what kind of sick man you are!” the two men continued hitting each others and you had to wait for security to stop because you couldn’t do anything.

security came and they were able to separate the two men, dragging drew out of the arena and leaving you and punk inside the ring.

you immediately went to check on him. his face had some deep cuts and his nose was bleeding “oh my goodness…are you okay?” your delicate hands touched his face, looking for some other injuries but he reassured you saying that he was doing fine.

drew watched from afar that interaction between the two of you, promising that he would get revenge on punk for everything he caused him.

[dirtywrestling]

CM Punk - Masterlist

💦 = Smut, 💖= Fluff, 🌩 = Angst, 🚫 = No Warnings

Series:

None

One Shots:

The Very Best -💦

Summary:  After General Manager Aj Lee tries to screw over Punk, Simon comes up with a grew plan to protect Punk and his championship. (Commission, 18+, Smut, Minors DNI)

[urgogodancer]

I NEED THIS MAN SO BAD

Also, I'm like this 🤏🏻 close to writing some JAW DROPPING, FILTHY AND DISGUSTING SHIT ABOUT HIM. Might do it on here or on my Wattpad account, or tbh...on both platforms. Let me know CAUSE I GOT A COUPLE THINGS IN THE WORKS LMFAOOOOO

[onlyangel4]

brains of the operation. wwe texts.

synopsis: everyone thinks your partner is great on the mic, he is but he does get a little help

featuring: cm punk, drew mcintyre, cody rhodes, jimmy uso, la knight and jacob fatu

[joannasteez]

untitled work (three)

this is from a new years prompt i'd written last month. it's a plug and read situation, so choose your guy and imagine away!

ten. it isn’t obligatory. but people do it anyways. drunk and wild and excited. anticipation so warm in the gut it feels like that first take of liquor to the blood. some relationships should be professional. nine. thats what he’d said. the separation of a veil. thin and loose and ill made to keep its place. flowing with wind and uncertainty and the terrible curiosities of “what if�� and “maybe”. eight. it isn’t obligatory. but people do it anyways. ceremonially and sometimes with great spectacle. a little sloppy and half hearted. a lot of tongue, too much tongue, short pecks and lingering pulls that force breath through the nose. seven. some relationships should be professional. thats what he’d said. months and weeks ago. six. drawing himself up and away from something too real to handle. five. a kiss at midnight to ring in the new year is not obligatory. but, its here anyways. four. a little shy, and then a little heavy. lingering and soft, so well that you have to remember to breathe. three. a little something sweet on the tongue as he swipes in to taste you. two. a clean sweep that teases skills longtime thought of. the pop of distant fireworks and the roar of impatient celebration. his thumb at your cheek before his tongue begins again. flicking to taste and measure and celebrate. one. body held up in him whole. the type of embrace that speaks. some relationships should be professional, but I cant leave you alone…

[thatbitch909]

In Your Corner

ok this one is very much a self-indulgence so I feel better after this TERRIBLE SUMMER SLAM Featuring: CM Punk x Gender neutral reader

warnings; none at all just a lot of fluff and fluffy stuff happening here! word count!: 947 

CM Punk sat on the bench in the locker room, staring at the floor. The cheers and boos from the arena still rang faintly through the walls, but all he could hear was the echo of the referee's count and the final bell signaling his loss to Drew McIntyre at SummerSlam. His body ached, not just from the physical toll of the match but from the disappointment that settled in his chest like a heavy stone. He had poured everything into this match, and now he was left with nothing but the sting of defeat.

The door creaked open, and you entered quietly, not wanting to disturb the moment's stillness. You had watched the match from backstage, your heart in your throat with every near-fall and submission. Seeing Punk now, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast made your heartache. You walked over to him and sat down, close but not crowding him, giving him space to feel, whatever he needed.

"Hey," you said softly, breaking the silence.

He looked up at you, his expression weary but touched by your presence. "Hey," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He ran a hand through his damp hair and let out a shaky breath. "That was... that was rough."

You nodded, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his knee. "Yeah, it was," you agreed, your voice gentle and understanding. "But you were amazing out there. You put on a hell of a show."

He gave a small, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Doesn't feel like it. All I can think about is losing. Again."

You squeezed his knee reassuringly. "I know it hurts, and it's okay to feel that way. But I also saw a guy out there who fought with everything he had, who never gave up, even when things got tough. You gave the fans a match they'll never forget."

He looked at you, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "I just... I wanted to win. I wanted to prove that I still have it, that I can still go toe-to-toe with the best."

"You did prove that," you said earnestly. "It takes a lot of guts to step into that ring, especially against someone like Drew. And you showed everyone that you're still one of the toughest, most talented wrestlers out there."

Punk sighed, leaning back against the lockers. "It's just hard, you know? It feels like every time I get close to something big, it slips away."

You nodded, understanding the frustration and pain in his voice. "I know. But that doesn't define who you are or what you've accomplished. You've done so much in your career, and one match doesn't change that. You're still CM Punk, the Best in the World."

He chuckled softly at your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You always know how to make me feel better," he said, his voice warm and affectionate.

You smiled back, glad to see some of the heaviness lift from his expression. "It's because I believe in you. And I know this isn't the end. There may be other matches, and other opportunities. But right now, you need to take care of yourself and not beat yourself up over this."

Punk looked at you, his eyes softening. "You're right," he admitted, reaching out to take your hand in his. "I guess I just need to let it go and move on."

You squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. "And I'll be right here with you, every step of the way," you said, your voice filled with love and support. "Win or lose, I'm in your corner."

He smiled, a genuine smile this time, and leaned in to rest his forehead against yours. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude.

You tilted your head, gently kissing his nose. "Luckily, you don't have to find out," you teased, making him laugh softly. You loved the sound of his laughter, the way it lightened the air around you.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. "Thank you," he said, his voice heartfelt. "For being here, for always supporting me."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Always," you replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. The kiss was sweet and comforting, a promise of your love.

When you pulled away, you saw the soft, contented look on his face, and it made you smile even more. "Now," you said, your tone lightening, "how about we get you cleaned up and find something to eat? You need to refuel after that match."

Punk chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, I could use some food," he agreed, starting to gather his things. As he stood up, he looked at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "And maybe a drink or two."

You grinned, standing up and helping him pack up. "Sounds like a plan," you said, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. The night hadn't gone as planned, but it didn't matter. What mattered was being there for each other, supporting and caring for one another.

As you left the locker room together, Punk slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the comfort of his presence. The future was uncertain, but you knew one thing for sure: as long as you were together, you could face anything.

And in that moment, walking side by side, you knew that the real victory was the love and support you both shared.

thank you to @punkintyre for the beta read!! https://open.spotify.com/track/0ft93Dt7MUQpjqLbVEBN59?si=694e815b0dd445c5

[dynamitekansai]

WWE RAW (DECEMBER 16, 2024)

[harmshake]

CM Punk x Black Fem Reader | 18+, NSFW, smut, drug references (not literally but walk with me) | 747 words

Happy reading! Read my other CM Punk fics here, if you'd like. ✨

"You like this filth. Hmph. Makes you so damn wet."

It wasn't a question, but a fact that he spoke with loud confidence, even though his voice was hushed next to your ear.

His soft lips grazed the skin there, forcing a tremble through your spine that writhed down to your toes. Or maybe that was because of his fingers, two long, warm fingers that nudged and smudged to your clit something tender. It sent the tremble up this time, the withdrawal something fierce from the orgasm that was delayed but so close now, shuddering need crawling up through your throat and out of your mouth, a pitiful sound that made Punk breathe a haughty hum.

"Filthy girl. You're making a fuckin' mess."

The filth he spoke of, that delicious sin, was a coating of his own cum still wet and warm on your pussy lips, slick and slipping together with your nectar that dribbled from your little hole where his touch teased, playing in the mess he made when he'd had you on your knees before him. Taking the heavy, thick curve of his dick like his dirty, good girl. That's what you wished he had called you as you diligently rocked your hips at his command, pouncing back on his length that fit so snug it hit a potent nerve, the one that left you drooling, crying, too sensitive and senseless all at once.

Without that sense, you fucked yourself silly on him, trying to cum when he explicitly told you not to, trying against your will because the high felt too addicting not to chase. Your mind was forsaken in that carnal pursuit...you were too gone in the hunt of it, hot with sweat glimmering on your skin that tingled the higher you climbed to that perfect bliss. Too gone to notice you were milking him and he wasn't stopping you, forsaking his own rule amid firm fingers around your throat and in your mouth. He had to, just this once, for his carnal urge.

The pull of your pussy devouring him as he sank in it, sank his hands onto your thick, warm, brown flesh, that small, succulent space that hemmed your hips, ass, and thighs, one of his favorite parts on you. His fingers cinched tight at the seam of you as he kept you still and pulsed and pumped and pulled out carefully to see himself slowly dripping white and thick from you, running down to your clit, and staining your sheets.

All the while, you moaned. Screamed softly, too. Punk knew he had that power, irresistible. You'd let him use you however he liked.

"Can't believe this is making you cum. You like bein' my cum slut, hm."

And now he mocked you for it. Yanking you back to him to sit between his thighs, your body broken against him like a beautiful disaster but he held you together, a strong, tatted arm wrapped around your waist and inked, sticky fingers dipped into your pussy that throbbed from the focus on the soft pads of his fingertips. Skating over your clit, caressing up the hood with feather taps, gliding inside your and his mess with a devoted push, indulging and seeking his place.

"Phil." You fought to be heard but your voice was so pathetic, tuckered out from how you whined for him throughout the night. You didn't have much to say, anyway. Just wanted to let him know that he was right, fuck, he was right.

He owned you. His cum slut. And it wasn't a question, but a fact.

You clenched around his fingers, squirming as he held them on the spot he had claimed for himself because your pussy was his. He could do what he pleased with it. He could flutter those taps just there to make your chest flutter with destroyed, little cries. Could brush his thumb in circles on your clit as your eyes rolled. He could squeeze your breast with your nipple caught between his agile fingers. He could lick the delicate skin that hid your rapid pulse and skim it with his teeth until your fingers dug into your bed, into him.

He was irresistible. His cum still spilling from you and adding to the ease of his fingers fucking you, fucking it back into you, felt like touching the moon for the first time. The high you were denied finally simmered in your blood, killing you softly with glistening knuckles marked with the letters d-r-u-g.

This filth, this drug, this high? You didn't want to be sober.

. . .

Filth

Thanks for reading! And don't mind me posting some horny bullshit at 2 am. This is perfectly normal behavior...

If you wanna be tagged in my Punk fics, let me know! ❤️

Tagging: @sayyestoheav3nn @xbriexx @sassginaswanmills @headoftheetable @joannasteez

@cry1nwhileimcumm1n @coyotegirl-ramblings @kechiwrites @thlayli-ra @theasiaabattoir

@jimingotthajams @femdisa @ayeeitsali @armanibook @sebbys-cinema

@riverina69 @wrestlingbaby @xkittypunkerx @iguessilikewrestlingnow

[damiansgoodgirll]

I know this is so wrong on many levels, but would you please make something with punk cheating on her wife with reader? It can be smut and angsty at the same time, like they both are feeling really guilty but they can’t stop the sexual tension between them 🥵😭😩❤️🙏

AJ I LOVE YOU I PROMISE

cm punk x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️ +18, smut, angst, toxic phil, mean phil, cheating, daddy issues (?)

nasty attraction

what you and phil were doing was wrong on so many levels. he had a wife waiting for him at home, a wife he loved. he promised her to love and protect her, to be always by her side and yet he every week, after raw, he was always in your bed.

it started as an accident. he felt so guilty after you slept together that he avoided for a month. when he realised that he couldn’t avoid you forever, he talked with you, explained that what happened was just a mistake and that he had no feelings for you, that he was deeply in love with his wife and that he needed time to make amend.

you were hurt. you knew that he didn’t have feelings for you but the harsh way he said it, almost as if it was your fault you had sex, it hurt you.

he promised he would have never happened again but he couldn’t keep it promise much as just a few weeks later he was the one dragging you into his hotel room.

he needed to let go some tension and he thought that you wouldn’t mind. of course you didn’t mind. you were probably too focused on your crush for the old man to think that he was only using you.

that mistake turned into more and more mistakes and you couldn’t deny the immense attraction that you had for him. he was older, hot, more experienced than you, rough and cold, married.

all the red flags were right in front of you but you were too blind to see them.

“one last time…this is our last time…” he whispered while one of his hand was working on your clit as the other kept your wrists clutched to the bed.

everytime, he swore that it was going to be the last time but every week the same routine occurred.

he was happily married. he loved his wife more than he could explain. but there was something that you had that made him crawl under your skin.

you were young, in your twenties. you were inexperienced so that lead him to be able to do everything he wanted with you and your body. he knew you had a crush on him, he wasn’t stupid. and he knew it was wrong to play with your feelings but he couldn’t help it. you were like a stress reliever for him, someone he would be rough and mean, someone he could release all the past tension he had.

“fuck…” you moaned, your voice soft while his calloused hands kept harshly stimulating your clit.

“uh uh…bad girls don’t get to cum…” he loved the game he was playing “turn around…ass up” he ordered. he expected you to obey as you always did but there was some hesitation this time “i gave you an order y/n…don’t make me punish you” this was a common routine. he would tease you, he would turn you around and fuck you and then he would leave.

“i don’t want to…” you confessed, opening your eyes.

“to do what?” he didn’t meant to be so mean with you. sometimes he forgot that you were a person just like him and that you had feelings. especially after the whole situation with drew mcintyre, he was more stressed than ever.

“this…” you didn’t want to sound so weak but something shifted between the two of you. he wasn’t always so mean. sure, he wasn’t a vanilla lover but there times where he would actually take his time with you and make you feel appreciated. none of this quick fuck excuses “the way you’ve been treating me for the past weeks…i don’t deserve this phil…i’m not your whore and even if you don’t see this thing the way i see it, you don’t have to treat me like im nothing…” you didn’t meet his eyes.

guilt flowing through his body.

you were right. he knew you were right. but he knew that if he showed even the slightest bit of emotion and kindness towards you, he knew it would be over for him. he didn’t love you, absolutely. he didn’t have a crush like you had. but he was attracted by you, there was like a magnet around you that kept pulling him towards you.

he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. thinking about how your presence was so intoxicating for him.

“i know…and i’m sorry…” he apologised “i’m so fucking sorry…i shouldn’t have been so rude with you, i just…”

“you just?” you were curious.

“what we do…it’s so wrong, i know i shouldn’t do this, i have an amazing wife waiting for me at home…i love her more than anything but i can’t help being so fucking attracted to you, and i know that if i get affectionate with you everything will change and i don’t want that…” he looked at you while speaking and it seemed true to his words.

“we can stop if you want to…” you hoped he would say no.

“that‘s the fucking problem…i can’t stop, i can’t get enough of you, your body, the way you sounds so sweet everytime you cum on my dick…i can’t stop this” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“one last time?” you asked him, hoping that he would say yes.

“one last time…” and he swore that it was going to be the last time for you and him.

he gently laid you down on the bed and kissed upon your body, as if he wanted to apologize for being so mean with you. and for a second you believed him, you believed that his intentions were pure but you remembered that he was a married man, a man who loved his wife, a man who couldn’t give you the future you wanted and deserved and for that you will always resent him.

when he pushed inside of you, his movements were slow, calm. like he wanted to savour you one last time.

he moaned into your shoulder, trying to control himself. he wanted to own you, to show you who was in charge. he wanted to bend you over like he always did but tonight was different, he wanted to have you one last time.

“shit…phil…” you didn’t mean to sound so weak but he was hitting all of the right spots inside of you and you couldn’t keep your moans low. he knew your body so well, and he knew what pushed you on the edge.

“right there baby?” he smirked, taking a deep look into your face. your eyes were closed, trying to stop tears from falling.

“yes…” and that was all he needed to hear since he started moving a little faster, hitting your sweet spot.

“i wanna feel you coming around my dick…one last time…” there was a little of sadness, maybe resentment.

his lips left some kisses over your neck and collarbone, mixing with the pleasure he was already bringing you. this was a sweet phil, a side that you never saw. and you thought about how lucky was his wife to have him, to having him kiss her goodnight every single night, how lucky she was to have him in her arms and hold him every day. you wanted to be that girl and you knew that someday you would get your chance to be loved, just that it wouldn’t be phil to love you like that.

a tear rolled down your eye, both from sadness and pleasure, he was easily bringing you over the edge “phil…i’m so close…” you moaned as your hands moved to mark his back. you didn’t mean to but if that was your last time together, you needed to have him as close as possible so you brought him closer to you. your chest meeting with tattooed one.

he sped a little more, you could hear the cracks from the bed, wondering if your hotel neighbours were hearing those too.

“come for me baby…” he whispered against your skin. those words making you clench hard around his dick that released inside of you. with a deep growl phil came, spilling inside of you. your legs still shaking a bit from the stimulation.

you both looked at each other, speechless. you hoped he would say something first but nothing came out of his mouth.

“our last time uh?” you tried to laugh, but deep down all you wanted to do was cry.

he chuckled, trying to ease the tension “yeah…our last time…i should probably go back to my bedroom” he whispered.

“you should” you didn’t want to hear more words coming out his mouth. you wanted to be left alone and never see him again.

he quickly stood up and he dressed himself. he took one look at you before leaving the room.

you stayed there, watching the ceiling and let all those tears fall.

“she’s so lucky…” you whispered, knowing that you’ll never have him.

[mamirhodessxox]

Everytime CM PUNK posts its like a fever dream.

[fantasticalleigh]

will be occupied later today so I will unfortunately miss tonight's RAW so I'm posting this ahead of time. this piece concludes the Broken Man series! I hope you enjoyed it and that you checked out the song it's inspired by. You'll be seeing this punkintyre art again because I used it to make a different piece for Bad Blood. The countdown to Saturday begins! ;-;

Part 1 of the Broken Man series

Part 2

Part 3

(not that anyone asked but i've had this scene stuck in my head for weeks now of them during their Hell in a Cell match where at one point at the end they've both climbed it and they're yelling and hitting each other. they're covered in blood and just out of energy but all they have is their hate/love left in their systems to fuel them. drew has punk's arm in his hand, his fingers digging into punk's previously-torn tricep. he shouts at him how much he hates him, that punk's ruined his life. that this has to end now. punk snarls back that drew is his own worst enemy, that he's so insecure inside he'll ruin and blame everyone else in the world before he is ready to admit that to himself.

they're almost at the top of the cage and they're at risk of falling. punk punches drew. drew punches punk. at any moment one of them might fall off the cage. it has to end now. this feud has ripped everything out of them, turned them into the worst versions of themselves. yet they've slowly realized over the match they can't live without the other. they are each other's purpose. drew won't be happy if punk is gone, and punk won't be happy if drew is gone. but neither can bring himself to say what he really feels.

punk grabs a handful of drew's hair and kisses him. drew is ecstatic, torn, exhausted. but he clings to punk and punk clings to him and drew feels his blood slide on his skin and his fingers slip from their grasp to the chain-link wall of the cell and despite his fear of heights he doesn't care that they're falling, falling, falling--until they land. bones break. more blood spills. but they're in each other's arms, and the light is fading from both their eyes; the audience is screaming and the officials and medics are racing to reach them in time and they're staring right at each other and though no explicit confession ever crossed ether's lips, they know.

and that's enough.

[goreinfested]

Okay I caved I haven’t written in years so I might not be any good BUT I’m taking requests ( THEYRE NOW CLOSED ) TO WRITE ABOUT ANY OF THE PPL BELOW: (Sidenote I’d love to start out with headcanons for them bc I’m rusty and unsure if I could do you all justice with a whole fic and can/will write for male/female/non binary readers :3 )

Triple h

HBK

Randy orton

Cody Rhodes

Dominick mysterio

Rey mysterio

Cm punk

Stone cold Steve Austin

The undertaker

drew McIntyre

Eddie Guerrero

Jey uso

Roman reigns

Jeff hardy

Aj Lee

John cena

( IM OPEN TO MANY MORE SUGGESTIONS AND WILL TRY AND DO THE BEST I CAN )

[punksvision]

ok just got around to reading sing this corrosion to me before I honk cho mi mi and I am audibly giggling rn someone euthanize me

[blowflyfag]

[seeingstarks]

mjf masterlist

best + bitter = better - (mjf x afab!reader) - fluff

divinely sinful - (mjf x daddi doom x afab!reader) - smut

no one better than you baby - (mjf x adam cole x afab!reader) - fluff

on the level of the devil - (mjf x brat afab!reader) - smut

the cream on the cake wants to escape - (mjf x cm punk x plus size afab!reader) - smut