#Maxemerica

[theroyalwords]

Maxemerica makeup sex? 😏

Well, this gets to M. Just warning you.

Livid wasn’t an accurate word to describe how America felt.

She was past livid, teetering dangerously into insaneterritory. The fight had gone past reason, past making any sense. A part of herknew that it was way out of proportion, but the anger wouldn’t let her stop.

“Do not tell me this isn’t an option, Maxon. They don’tunderstand. You sure as hell don’t understand!”

“America, we can’t just snap our fingers and make everythingright in a day! We knew there would be fallout from this. We knew there wouldbe kinks to work out.”

“It is not right, and I’m not going to stand there on cameraand smile like everything is okay and lie to the people.”

“We aren’t lying to them!”

“Oh yes, we are. We are lying to them the same way yourfather lied about the Selection, about how the candidates were really chosen.”America quickly took off her earrings, slamming them on her dresser with a lotmore vigor than normal. Maxon stood at the entryway to her bedroom, lookinghaggard. They’d been fighting about this for over an hour now.

“This is different, and youknow it.”                                  

“Not from where I’m standing, it’s not! Here’s another groupof people given false hope with no chance of actually ever achieving theirdreams.”

“What do you suggest we do, America?! The faculty and staffof the college still have to get paid, still have to make a living forthemselves. There have been scholarships put into place, and more will come.”

“That’s not enough! It’s not enough to stop the cycle,Maxon!”

“What do you want me to do, America!?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” She sat down at her vanity, placing her headin her hands. That was the whole point of this, wasn’t it? Knowing somethingwas wrong and not having any clue how to fix it? “I don’t know,” she whisperedagain, her voice sad.

“Neither do I.”

America heard it in his tone. The anger at not knowing whatwas to come, what to do to make things right. The bitterness left over frombeing yelled at for the past hour. Her own anger was still rolling in waves,crashing against her without relent. She started to take out the pins in herhair, uncoiling it from the perfect bun that her maid had done that morning.She grabbed her brush, running it through her hair to soften the tight twisthanging down past her shoulder. In the reflection on the mirror, she watchedMaxon heave a heavy sigh and walk back through the small hallway to his room.

Maxon and America spent all day in meetings discussing thevarious road bumps now that they’ve instituted the first phase of eliminatingthe castes. There were some positives, but the majority of people wanted morefreedom, more rights. America knew there was no easy answer to the problem. Ittook money and time, infrastructure, plans…now that she was on the other sideof things, she saw how complicated things could be. That didn’t mean she had tobe happy about it. There was nothing she wanted more than to give the peoplewhat they wanted, what they deserved. The palace took budget cuts, too. Theywere doing everything they could to ensure that things moved swiftly as possible.Unfortunately, that wasn’t as swift as some wanted.

America put down the brush, close to tears once again. Fiveminutes passed, then ten, each minute rolling past far too slowly. The quietcalmed her, but it was replaced with guilt. This wasn’t Maxon’s fault. Herhusband had done everything he could to make things right today. She wasfrustrated at the negativity, the whole mess of the situation. She’d yelled athim, her own temper rising at his frustration and short responses.

America stood and quickly walked back through the narrowcorridor that connected her room with Maxon’s. He’d left his door open, whichkind of surprised her. If the roles were reversed, she’d probably have slammedit shut and locked it for good measure.

Maxon stood next to his dresser. The tie he wore laiddiscarded on the floor. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off a taut stomachthat did wondrous things to her heart. He was trying in vain to remove acufflink that seemed to be stuck. America watched as he cursed under hisbreath, his lips pursed and neck tense with agitation. She walked over, brushedher fingers over his. Maxon stilled at the contact.

“I’ve got it,” she murmured. There was a string making itcatch, which America was quickly able to free. She removed it and set it on thedresser. Maxon watched her for a moment before turning away from her.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry.”

He turned to face her, his shirt now in his hands. Americacouldn’t even look at him she was so upset with herself. “I know this isn’tyour fault. I know we are doing everything we can. I shouldn’t have snapped atyou, shouldn’t have taken out all my frustration. I’m so sorry.” Her voice wasthink, ragged with the aftermath of all the events today. It was silent for aminute. America could feel her husband watching her. She wiped the tears fromher cheek and turned to head back to her room, to suffer in the misery shedeserved. She didn’t take two steps before his hand grabbed her arm, pullingher into his warm embrace.

“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have let my temper get to me,”Maxon whispered before placing a soft kiss in her hair. “It probably didn’thelp things when I called you a stubborn brat.”

America chuckled weakly. “No, it didn’t. I deserved it,though. Can you forgive me?”

“Already forgiven, my darling. Will you accept my apology aswell?”

America nodded her head and gave him a tight squeeze. “Ofcourse.”

“We’re a team, America. We’re going to not agree sometimes. Butat the end of the day, we just have to remember that we are fighting for thesame thing.” He tilted her head up and placed his hand against her cheek. “Yourpassion is just one of the many reasons I love you. We’ll figure out how to fixthis, together. Ten years from now, if the people haven’t disposed us, tonightis something we will look on and laugh at.”

America laughed. “Hopefully so. I was just gettingaccustomed to being Queen. It sure would be a shame to put all that hard workto waste.”

Maxon chuckled, the sound deep and warming. “I agree. Youare the prettiest postage stamp we’ve had in years.”

America playfully tapped his arm before leaning up to brush herlips against his. She intended for it to be soft, brief, sweet in itssimplicity. The second she pulled away, Maxon stared at her lips with hunger inhis eyes. His fingers swept behind her head, pulling her into another kiss, onehot and desperate.

That kiss transformed all the warring emotions still insideof her, consolidating into simple need. She needed Maxon’s lips on hers to keepher alive, to keep her heart beating. Maxon picked her up, and Americaresponded by wrapped her legs around his waist, her shift dress riding up herthighs dangerously high. He never broke away from the kiss, barely even pausedwhen he sat her back down by the bed. Maxon simply moved from her lips to herneck while he eased the zipper down, taking his sweet, agonizing time with it. Agroan left America, her whole body shuddering when the dress hit the floor andMaxon’s teeth playfully nipped the base of her neck. She needed to feel herhusband’s body on hers. She needed to show Maxon that she loved him, yelling orno yelling, and she always would. America kicked the dress free and pulled awayfrom Maxon just long enough to unbuckle his pants and follow them and his underweardown to the floor. She gazed up from her husband on her knees, a confidentsmirk gracing her lips before she took him in her mouth. A heady, low growlleft Maxon as she ran his tongue along his shaft, sucking and pulling, revelingin the taste of her husband.

“Jesus, Mer,” he warbled as she slowly pulled to the end,swirling her tongue along the tip. She kept up that torment for a few minutes,Maxon’s erratic breaths and moans fueling her to keep going. She didn’t evenpause until Maxon’s fingers latched around her head, guiding her back up to herfeet.

“I wasn’t finished,” she murmured playfully as her husband steppedout of his pants. He pulled her close, all but ripping off her bra as Americapushed her panties over her hips.

“If you’d kept going, I would have been.” He lifted Americaat her waist, enthusiastically throwing her on the bed. A peal of laughter lefther, but was quickly cut off once Maxon’s lips were on hers. He sat up justlong enough to guide himself into her after making sure she was ready. When hiships became flush with hers, everything stopped. There was nothing complicatedor frustrating in the world. The only thing that remained in existence was theway he looked at her, like she was rain at the end of a drought, like he wouldn’tever get enough of her. All the emotions of the day disappeared, banished witheach thrust, with each moan and kiss. Every time he whispered her name or shebegged him to keep going eased the tension. This is what she craved, what theyboth needed, and when they hit their peak together, it was enough to shatterthe world.

Maxon shifted on his back, pulling America against him.America curled into her husband, content beyond belief. Everything felt better,right.

“That was…wow.” Maxon laughed before leaning down to place aquick kiss on America’s lips. Wow didn’t even begin to cover it.

“Maybe we should fight more often,” America teased him.

“Less fighting. More making up,” Maxon countered. She ranher hand down his stomach, earning a stuttered breath from her husband.

“I think I can work with that.”

#maxerica #holls loves anons #mrtflr #the selection series #the selection fic #maxerica fic #smut warning #my writing

[rejectedblogger-blog]

I am not your dear.

America Singer

#the selection #the elite #kiera cass #maxemerica #maxon schreave #america singer #america schreave #the one #selection #selection series

[julliettewarners]

My Dear America,

I’ve never written a love letter, so forgive me if I fail now…. The simple thing would be to say that I love you. But, in truth, it’s so much more than that. I want you, America. I need you. I’ve held back so much from you out of fear. I’m afraid that if I show you everything at once, it will overwhelm you, and you’ll run away. I’m afraid that somewhere in the back of your heart is a love for someone else that will never die. I’m afraid that I will make a mistake again, something so huge that you retreat into that silent world of yours. No scolding from a tutor, no lashing from my father, no isolation in my youth has ever hurt me so much as you separating yourself from me. I keep thinking that it’s there, waiting to come back and strike me. So I’ve held on to all my options, fearing that the moment I wipe them away, you will be standing there with your arms closed, happy to be my friend but unable to be my equal, my queen, my wife. And for you to be my wife is all I want in the world. I love you. I was afraid to admit it for a long time, but I know it now. I would never rejoice in the loss of your father, the sadness you’ve felt since he passed, or the emptiness I’ve experienced since you left. But I’m so grateful that you had to go. I’m not sure how long it would have taken for me to figure this out if I hadn’t had to start trying to imagine a life without you. I know now, with absolute certainty, that is nothing I want. I wish I was as true an artist as you so that I could find a way to tell you what you’ve become to me. America, my love, you are sunlight falling through trees. You are laughter that breaks through sadness. You are the breeze on a too-warm day. You are clarity in the midst of confusion. You are not the world, but you are everything that makes the world good. Without you, my life would still exist, but that’s all it would manage to do. You said that to get things right one of us would have to take a leap of faith. I think I’ve discovered the canyon that must be leaped, and I hope to find you waiting for me on the other side. 

I love you, America. 

Yours forever, Maxon.

#bookedit #the selection #the selection series #maxemerica #maxericaedit #maxon x america #my edit #mine #theselectionedit #tsedit #litedit #lit #*