#maxwell lord fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

perotovar · 4 months

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hey sweeties!! kel and i put a list together of all the submissions we got for our event and split them into two masterlists of fics for you all to read and enjoy! this is my part of the list, so if you don't see yours give @beskarandblasters 's list >here< a look and see if that's where your fic/submission ended up!

we can't thank you enough for submitting and helping us give a voice to the smaller writers of the fandom ♥ oh, and for any multi chapter fics/series, we only read the first chapters to make it fair!

please make sure to read each fic's warnings carefully and happy reading! ♥

@iamskyereads - Compulsion (Ezra x ofc!Beatrice)

i can't even begin to describe how much i love this fic already. it's so smart and the worldbuilding?? incredible!! it feels like a sequel to the film, or like it could easily take place in the same universe. just brilliant. and ezra's voice is so clear here, i could hear him saying every word. and the oc, beatrice, is fascinating already, i can't wait to see where it goes!

@all-the-way-down-here - This Is Why We Fight (Dieter x nb!oc!Bell)

i love the start of this. both dieter and bell have excellent characterization and the conversations being had by every character feel so real and are so important. bell's group of friends all sound like friends i would have, and i would love to hang out with them. i love the direction this is going!

@linzels-blog - Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie x f!reader)

ahh what a delightful little fic! it feels very much like an early 2000s rom com and i mean that in the best way! very cute and i love the vibes. everyone's characterization is great and i can't wait to sink my teeth into the rest of it!

@elvenmother - Context and Perspective (Marcus M x f!reader)

completely obsessed with this concept. i love a good enemies to lovers and this is such an awesome way to do it! i always see marcus m fics featuring someone without superpowers, but to have a character that's just as powerful as him? sign me up!

@kedsandtubesocks - In the Dead of the Night (Din x f!reader)

one of my absolute favorite din fics. the worldbuilding and din's creature form is incredible. i love a horror au that's flipped on its head. i also love the "creature is also the hunter" trope and this does that incredibly well. the atmosphere is off the charts.

@ghostofaboy - Rock Bottom (Frankie x original male characters)

god, i don't even know where to begin with this story. it's so raw and visceral and i can't say enough how much i enjoy it. i love reading something new and especially if it's coming from a male perspective. this is, unfortunately, something i could see frankie getting up to. frankie is such a deeply tragic character and this fic does that justice in a dark, but really intriguing way.

@ishabull - The Way We Were Drawn (Marcus P x f!reader)

ohh this is such a sweet fic. i love the imagery painted and the dynamic between marcus and reader is so sweet!

@secretelephanttattoo - Headshots (Marcus P x f!reader)

this fic is beyond sweet and so dreamy. the ideal scenario for anyone, in my humble opinion. who wouldn't want to take pictures of handsome fbi agents and then fall in love with said agent?

@lesbianhotch - you walk by and i fall to pieces (Frankie x f!reader)

THIS WAS THE CUTEST DAMN THING. i love me a nervous frankie (hello, have you read my fic lmao) and this was by far one of the cutest. i'm obsessed with reader's confidence and i just know those two are gonna be menaces once they're together. throw in some patsy cline and i am a goner. this is going on the reread list for sure.

@insomniamamma - Remain Nameless (Ezra & Cee w/ gn!reader)

ok, this one actually made me cry. i'm not sure if it's my own sleep-deprived ass that caused it but this is probably one of the most beautiful but sad fics i've read in a long time. i mean all of this in the best way because i don't normally get emotional from fics. prospect as a movie makes me emotional, though, so it doesn't surprise me that this did as well. it's such an incredible missing scene that i can, unfortunately, see absolutely happening. have some tissues nearby.

@sweetercalypso - Unlikely Friends (Joel x gn!reader)

this fic is one of my absolute favorite fics for joel. a big reason for that is i have a cat named tilly. and imagining joel reluctantly and grumpily cuddling with my tilly makes me emotional, ok??

@softstarlite - The Casualty of Love (Javi P x f!reader)

very cute! i love the awkward tension around not seeing someone for so long and there being a huge glow up maturity-wise from one of them! seeing someone in a new light is always a strange thing and i love the start to these two and their journey!

@julesonrecord - Shots (Jack x f!reader/oc)

probably one of the best post-movie fics i've ever read for jack. the way jack's trauma and therapy is handled is so fucking brilliant and tonic is one of the best fucking characters, god. eva is written so well and i just. i can't recommend this fic enough. if you like jack, hell even if you don't, give this fic a shot. i promise you'll come out of it liking it.

@coulsons-fullmetal-cellist - The Audition (Dieter x f!reader)

goddd this was so cute! dieter's insecurities don't come up very often and i absolutely love what a match he and reader make. she's so sweet with him and takes such good care of him. and he loves her so much and i love them ok

@max--phillips - A Little Lipstick Never Hurts (Max P x f!reader)

this is one of the best explorations into kink that i've ever read. it's so respectful and hot as fuck. completely obsessed with this take on max as a character and i can't get enough of the dynamic between him, reader, (and eventually dieter). it may not be everyone's cup of tea, but i highly encourage you to give it a try. max gets some well deserved lessons taught, and who doesn't love that?

@coastielaceispunk - The Gift of Lingerie (Max L x f!reader)

god, this was so fucking hot. i'm so here for a mentally healed maxwell in a healthy marriage with a fulfilling sex life lol the little bit of teasing on both their parts was beyond sexy and i loved how equal everything felt. ugh, will be rereading this one for sure.

@lotrefcp - Hidden Away (Javi P x f!reader)

i'm obsessed with a no nonsense reader with just as much attitude/sass as javi does lol i just kept reading going GET HIS ASS. an excellent start to a universe i'm excited to sink my teeth into!

@beefrobeefcal - On the Waterfront (Frankie x f!reader)

oh, this is dark. i love the vibes immediately. i've had a weird fascination with the mafia for most of my life and this has that air about it. a dark, chubby mob boss!frankie is right up my alley for sure. i love that he's still frankie tho. sensible, practical, but with an edge. mind the warnings.

@flightlessangelwings - La Estrella de Mi Vida (Javi G x f!reader)

ahhh so romantic and so tragic!! i swear, it's impossible to make javi unappealing but this fic is just so sweet and manages to make me love him even more (somehow). but i love the added drama and tension from outside forces!! i need to read the rest of it asap!

@littlemisspascal - Rockford & Roan (Tim x f!reader)

my god, i love this?? i'm not usually one for superpowers/soulmate au's but i'm in love with the practicality of this? it feels otherworldly without being too much and it's very grounded. i love the reader and the way tim is written is so believable. i love that we as a fandom have created such a visceral image of this character from only a minute's worth of footage!

@something-tofightfor & @the-blind-assassin-12 - Aphelion (Oberyn x Ellaria & f!reader)

goddd the imagery painted in this one. so heartbreaking. absolutely breathtaking. i'm a slut for vampires and i'm a slut for oberyn/ellaria. this is absolutely something i will be reading the rest of lol

@bluestar22x - The Rockford Files (Tim x f!reader)

ok this is insanely good. one of my favorite books of all time is "red dragon" by thomas harris and i felt like i was reading that again while i read this. the details of the case and the cadence of everything was top notch. obsessed with the psychic element thrown in there and i'm beyond excited to see where tim and psy end up next!

bonus:

@sweetenerobert - Fiction vs Reality (Tommy Miller x m!reader)

ohhhh my god. you give me a bisexual tattoo artist tommy miller with stretched ears and i'm supposed to be normal about it??? UNLIKELY. i am extremely tempted to edit this into reality ngl but my god. this was so fucking hot lmao

144 notes · View notes

prolix-yuy · 11 months

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Sheer

(Moodboard by @missredherring)

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Plus Sized F!Reader

Summary: You owe more to an unlikely savior than you could ever imagine.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: T, discussion of off-screen character death (cancer), negative body image and self-worth talk, light spicy thoughts, angst. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: This story was a real surprise and a treat to pop out of my head one morning, especially with a Pedro boy I haven't written for! Our reader is a plus sized girlie in this story, and we're dealing with some negative body image and self-worth talk on both sides. The reader also discusses the death of a friend, so if that may be triggering to you feel free to scroll along, lovely reader.

This should have been your best first day. The first day at the job that will finally get your head above water. The first time you’ve felt qualified, and that you’d fit in. And the first where you could see the stepping stones to something bigger and better in front of you.

It was your fucking thighs that ruined it all.

You’d wanted to make a good first impression. Bought a whole new outfit just to show how committed you were, down to the thigh-high stockings and matching underwear. That was for you, something under the pencil skirt and blazer that made you feel even more powerful. It had cost a pretty penny too. Your ample bottom and full figure needed good support, and that plus lace was always the highest price at the lingerie boutiques. But you shelled it out, along with their recommended garters and thigh highs “for peak professionalism,” and were feeling yourself as you strutted off the subway. There was practically a soundtrack playing behind you. Maybe “Uptown Girl,” the notes making a smile come to your face and your head bob as you exited the train.

You’re normally more careful, aware of how much more space your body takes up than the other knockout New York girls streaming around you. But confidence had you swinging your hips and stepping confidently…right until you bumped into a woman’s handbag with an aggressive closure, the metal skimming past your calf and over the delicate nylon.

It ran instantly, a testament to how much of a rip-off these undergarments were. You felt it split along the length of your shapely leg as you hurried out of the station and towards the gleaming monolith of your office. Scurrying inside, you slipped into the bathroom unnoticed to assess the damage.

The run had split into a gaping maw down your leg, the smooth fantasy of the nylon revealing the more mottled flesh underneath. You held back tears as you wracked your brain for a solution. You could run to a shop, get a replacement pair. You’re still early to clock in, wanting to arrive punctually to impress your supervisor. That’s it, you’d just pop out to a drugstore for a new pair and no one would be the wiser.

It was a perfect plan. You just needed to move. But you can’t. You’re rooted to the spot.

The mirror mocks you, internal monologue screaming to the forefront from where you battered her back this morning.

Wouldn’t have ripped them if you were smaller.

Why do you need to take up so much space?

Did you think all this would change what you are?

Nastier names you call yourself only in the torture chamber of your mind echo in your ears. Your mascara is dangerously close to running, eyes catching on every flaw in your outfit, every wrinkle, everything that screams don’t look at the parts I hate, every unflattering angle. You reach deep to return to that carefree state you held just fifteen minutes ago but it’s dissipated like steam from a coffee cup.

Grabbing a handful of tissues you storm into a stall and lock it, leaning over to let the tears drip onto the floor without ruining your makeup. The minutes are ticking away, time running out to fix your minor wardrobe malfunction, but the ache in your head and behind your eyes has become the only thing you can focus on now. Your sobs are quiet little sniffles and short gasps, thankful for the privacy.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom slams open, and you shoot up, holding your breath. You’re not alone anymore.

Someone in smart leather shoes smacks across the floor, walking past the stalls and coming to a stop. A zip, then the tinkle of urination. Your expression crumples on itself in confusion.

Then a deep, masculine sigh reaches your ears, and your face quickly burns with embarrassment.

Fuck, did you walk into the men’s room?

You didn’t even check, just burst in to the first door with a toilet on it. There may have been urinals, but you were too preoccupied in the moment to pay them any mind. You clap your hands over your mouth, lightheaded at the fact that you’re listening to a grown man piss and he has no idea you’re in here. This day has turned from amazing to devastating to mortifying so quickly you could throw up.

The man finishes, striding over to the sinks to wash up. You breathe a sigh of relief, ready to make a mad dash out before someone else enters. The water turns off, a few flicks of his hands in the sink, and then…

He starts talking.

“This is your day,” he says, an order that you can imagine him doing in the mirror. “You will succeed in what you do, and you will find satisfaction in that success. You will continue to grow, and be proud of yourself. You will start doing that today.” With every word you cringe inwardly. He’s so earnest-sounding, really enunciating his daily affirmations in a public restroom. His voice is pleasing to listen to at least. If he was a late night radio DJ you would certainly tune in to him to fall asleep.

A moment of silence, a silent hope.

“This is your day…”

Oh for fuck’s sake, embarrassment be damned, you can’t keep listening to this.

“Hi there,” you squeak out, your whole body tense as his monologue cuts off sharply. The pause is at least ten months pregnant before he speaks.

“I-I’m so sorry, I thought I was alone,” he stammers out, two quick steps heading towards the door.

“No, I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t even be here, it’s…” Your words run out of steam when you realize his footsteps have stopped.

“You’re a woman. In the men’s room.”

You can’t help but smirk. He’s a little slow on the uptake. It’s surprisingly sweet.

“It’s been a rough morning.”

Another pause.

“Are you in trouble?”

You peal out a weak laugh.

“Nothing like that, just…” Taking a deep breath, you blow it out. Might as well admit your failures to a stranger. “I ripped my pantyhose on the way here, and it’s my first day and I wanted to make a good impression, and then I got overwhelmed and…” Your breath starts to quicken, and below the Pepto Bismol pink stall you see two shoes slowly approach. They’re well cared for, supple shining leather, but scuffed all along the toe. Tan slacks overtop the laces, a crisp pleat ironed into the length. You even see a glimpse of striped socks underneath, a collection of garish colors that makes you smile.

“Hey, it’s okay,” the voice says soothingly, closer than before. His accent sounds Spanish before he manually flattens it, forcing it back into his throat in favor of an all-American good boy accent. It eases the tension in your shoulders, sitting down on the toilet seat and dabbing at your eyes.

“I know it’s stupid. And I should just go out and get another pair. I just…” you say, but struggle to voice what’s really bothering you to a man who hasn't seen your face. Who probably doesn’t care who you are beyond a bizarre Monday morning anecdote. Most don’t, after all. You can’t remember how many times a man has looked through you because of the roundness of your tummy, or the thickness of your thighs. Or even worse, devoured your curves with roaming eyes but won’t look you in the eye, or call you back.

“It’s not stupid. You wanted to feel ready to take on the day, and something bad happened. We all deal with it,” he says, the gentle register he’s taking on soothing to your frayed nerves. “Do you have a place to go for another pair?” he asks. You bite your lip, shaking your head before realizing he can’t see you.

“First time out here, but I can manage,” you say timidly. The embarrassment of your predicament is climbing back up your throat, the thrumming need to get out and away making your hands shake.

“I know a place, but it’s probably quicker for me to run out for you. Do you want to stay here while I get them?”

You sputter, a thousand excuses why he should not do that roiling in your brain. “You don’t have to,” is the only one you manage to get out, heart hammering. A little chuckle wafts to your ears, and the heat in your cheeks blooms in your tummy as well. He sounds handsome, and that is short-circuiting your brain even more.

“I have gone on an errand or two in my life,” he jokes, feet making their way towards the door. “Lock it behind me so no one else comes in. I’ll do this -” He knocks on the door in a quick but recognizable pattern. “- when I’m back. It should only be a few minutes.”

“You’re that good huh?” You stammer again, your whole body threatening to light on fire in this stall. This man may come back to a pile of ash instead of a woman dying of embarrassment.

“Eh, I could be better,” he says, and the door to the outside opens with a rush of lobby noise. “Be right back.”

A thick slam lets you sneak out to bolt the lock. Returning to the mirror that betrayed you just minutes before, you watch your reflection. Behind the roundness in your face you pick at and criticize, you recognize another emotion. Determination, and fortitude you push yourself to stop downplaying. You can overcome this setback. Nothing is lost. If anything, you might have gained a confidant, someone you could laugh about this comedy of errors with over coffee in the break room.

You’ll be sure to thank him properly when he gets back.

Maxwell Lorenzano hurries out of the office building he’s worked in for six months, down the street and to the Macy’s two blocks away. He knows these roads like the back of his hand, and all of the stores that line them. A good thing to keep in his back pocket when he was pitching new products and charming sales people. Especially good when he knows exactly which door to go through to get to the women’s delicates section.

He strides in with all the glorious purpose of a man on a mission, and people part for him. He likes to think it’s because he cuts an impressive figure, tan suit over a white button-up, brown and yellow striped tie flapping with urgency. But there’s always the nagging worry that it’s because they recognize him. That the scurry away is fear. He’d been confronted in the past, a handful of angry men and women who wanted to take out their frustrations with their fists. But worse is the anxiety, the fear, like he could snap his fingers and magic them out of existence.

The aftermath of that damn stone still hangs heavy around his neck.

“Can I help you?” a petite saleswoman asks when Max comes to a stop in the nylon section. His sudden drop in demeanor from confident to hesitant must have signaled her over. In his eagerness he didn’t even ask his damsel in distress which kind she needed, or her size. He chews his lip in contemplation.

“I’m looking for a pair of nylons for my…” He pauses, no words coming to mind. His unlikely acquaintance? His mystery girl locked in the men’s room? His noble quest? The saleswoman - Karla, her name tag informs him - puts him out of his misery.

“I can help you with that. What kind does she wear? Control top? Thigh highs?”

Max’s mouth dries out. The most he knows of her is the glimpse he got of her feet, sensible black heels, well worn. The sight warmed something in his chest. She must be a hard worker, someone on her feet all day and always up to run an errand for a friend. He bets they ache at the end of a long day. Does she have someone to rub them for her?

“What do…most women wear to an office?” he asks, flitting his eyes over the variety of styles and shades.

“All the professional women I know use thigh highs. Easier in the office than a full set.” Karla directs him to the right section. “What size is she?”

Damn, this is where his lack of foresight fails him. He should have asked, but the intimacy of that question died on his tongue. Why did they size nylons in weight and height, the two most sensitive topics? He’d rather swallow a mouthful of glass than ask. Picking up one of the packets, he flips it to the size chart. There are only four options, which is easier than he expected.

“I can’t remember, better safe than sorry. One of each,” he says, Karla’s well-manicured eyebrows shooting into her hairline.

“And what color?” Karla asks. He noted that at least.

“Sheer black.”

Karla moves to grab a handful of the basic style, the cheapest on the display, before Max stops her.

“These ones,” he amends, tapping the more expensive set. If she’d already torn one pair, another flimsy set wouldn’t do. It had nothing to do with the fact that the lace edging the expensive ones is more delicate, a prettier pattern, and thinking of giving it to you raises goosebumps on the back of his neck.

He doesn’t even know you. It’s just…practical.

Karla rings up his purchases without further question, though maybe a little side-smile. She gives Max a brighter one when he takes the bag.

“You’re a good boyfriend,” she comments, scurrying off before he can respond. His face burns hot as he exits the store, checking his watch. The innocuous word - boyfriend - pings in his mind.

It had been some time since Max had run an errand for anyone. A few empty flings followed his divorce but nothing substantial enough to require a trip to the drugstore, or even a coffee shop. It was one of his favorite things about being a husband. He lived for the little memos on his desk blotter - Mrs. Lord needs you to pick up hairspray and milk - and followed them to the letter and beyond. He prided himself in knowing her favorite scents, what brands she preferred, what she turned her nose up at and what feminine products she needed. Sometimes he’d slip in something extra, a bouquet of flowers, a simple card. She’d groan at the expense, especially in the most dire times, but it always ended with her on her tiptoes kissing him, whispering, “My hero,” in his ear.

He really enjoyed being her hero, even after everything that happened.

It’s still early enough that his bathroom stowaway won’t be late to her first day. He’ll get to swoop in and save the day, be a hero to one person for a short moment. Jogging back into the office, the clash in humidities making his shirt stick to his back, he returns to the bathroom door. Rapping his pattern on it, he waits for the shick of the lock and a few moments more in case she wants to be back in the stall when he enters.

Stepping in and locking the door behind him, the open space is still empty, her shoes in her stall. Her toes are pointed towards each other, legs nervously rubbing.

“I, uh, forgot to ask your size,” Max blurts out, cringing immediately at the first thing that comes to mind. He knows she’s holding her breath, so he speeds through the next part. “Those sizing charts are more invasive than a doctor’s visit, so I just got one of everything, and the shop lady said that thigh highs are what everyone’s wearing but I’m not an expert so I hope it’s…okay.” He trails off before stepping further in and sliding the bag under the stall door. He scolds himself not to look further but he does catch a glance at her shapely calves before straightening back up.

“I can…leave now. Unless you want me to stay until you’re ready to go. What…whatever you want.”

She still hasn’t said anything and it’s heavier than his anxiety on his chest. He’s sure he’s offended her, or completely screwed this one small task up. Leave it to him to take helping a stranger to new, wildly creepy levels. Should he have just gone to reception to ask a woman for help? Is she mortified a man she’s never seen bought her something so intimate?

He waits in agony.

You try to comprehend what this stranger has handed you. In his absence you practiced thanking him for what you assumed would be the wrong size of pantyhose. You planned how you would reassure him that he could leave so you could escape to the women’s room and struggle into whatever he returned with.

But instead, he surprises you with a folded bag tucked discreetly under the bathroom stall.

Four identical pairs of thigh-highs, all matching your outfit, and in every size you could hope for. Pulling out the correct packet, your breath catches in your throat. They’re nicer than you allow yourself to buy, the high-quality nylon silky under your touch. The lace along the edge is finely textured, beautifully designed.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you say, your voice faraway to your own ears, a ball forming in your throat. The man’s feet shuffle against the tile floor.

“I hope you don’t think I’m being a creep. My ex-wife always said I was good at finding exactly what she needed.”

His voice is tight, and it plucks at your heart.

“Not a creep, you’re definitely my hero today,” you manage to say, rolling down the ruined pantyhose. The other follows, tucking your bare toes into your shoes to protect them from the cold floor. The man paces outside while you stretch each new nylon up your legs.

“Definitely not how I thought my day would start,” he says, the smile in his voice making your first real one grace your lips.

“Me neither. I can pay you for these.”

“I could never accept. I’ll return the extras, but please. Consider them a ‘welcome to the office’ gift. Or consolation after the morning you’ve had.”

“Oh, so you work here too? Great, now I’ll have to worry about bumping into you in the other men’s bathrooms.”

“I would gladly approach all bathrooms with caution if I got to run into you in one again.”

A softer pause than before.

“Would you like me to leave?”

Smoothing the lace band around your plush thigh, you let your fingertips trace the edge. Briefly, you imagine fingers other than your own following the same path before hooking underneath to slide them down inch by inch, replaced by soft lips.

“I’d like to thank my savior face to face,” you tease, smoothing your skirt and toeing your shoes back on. You dab some toilet paper under your eyes, pat your hair, and take a deep breath before exiting the bathroom stall.

The stall door slams shut as the man who saved your day turns to face you. His eyes light on your face first, open curiosity melting into a charming smile that is…familiar. In fact, a lot of him is familiar. His wide shoulders, suit jacket stretching against them. The sweep of his blond hair, not as light as it used to be but still caramel with burnt sugar strands. His large hands, no longer sporting a Rolex or an ostentatious pinky ring. And his face, one of the most recognizable in recent years, wearing an expression you’ve never seen. If you weren’t so dumbstruck you’d think it was appreciation. It was the look someone might give before calling you beautiful.

“Max Lorenzano…”

“Max Lord.”

His introduction trips over your recognition, dazed expression sharpening and shattering under those two words. The hope in his eyes dims as he schools his expression into acceptance, honey-golden aura swapped for the cool light of cold winter mornings.

“I’ll go. My apologies,” he says, simple, direct. You’re sure this has happened to him many times, possibly followed by shouts or sneers. Your own words stick in your throat as he claps his hands together and moves to leave. Thankfully your hands are fast enough, wrapping around his arm and pulling him to a stop.

“No, please, wait,” you finally manage, your bodies so close you’re burned by the heat radiating off his jacket. He turns in your grip, which you release to clasp your hands in front of your stomach.

“I didn’t mean…you startled me, I never expected…” you start, rolling your next words around in your mouth. He watches you, half wary, half hopeful. This close you can see how the edges of his lips are slightly chewed, how close his shave is, the sheen of sweat along his neck. He must have ran to get back here so quickly. Your heart thumps weakly against your ribs.

“I never thought I’d ever come face to face with the person who granted my wish,” you say, watching his jaw tighten in anticipation of vitriol.

“When I saw you on TV, and you asked me what my one desire was, I had…so many things come to mind. To be prettier, thinner, beautiful.” You can tell he wants to say something but you barrel on before you lose your nerve. “But I’m not a complete idiot, I’ve seen a few movies about wishes. I know those things can blow up in your face, and I don’t think I could take being hurt about how I looked by some magic rock.”

Max’s hand cups your elbow, thumb rubbing a soothing path.

“So I closed my eyes and I wished exactly this: I want one more day with my best friend at the time in her life when she was happiest.” The next breath you take in shakes. “She died seven years ago. Breast cancer. I miss her every day, and I just wanted one more with her. And I got my wish. And it was the best fucking day. The world outside might have been a mess, but we watched our favorite movies, snuck out to the spots we loved before she got sick, ate our favorite foods and talked all night. And I know it was real because she handed me my own ass and made me come to terms with some shit I did not like about myself. Only she would do that.” You fight against the tears, a sniffle coming out instead, as Max watches you with blossoming wonder.

“And when it was done she hugged me and told me to kick ass and eat cake and break hearts and I’ve been doing my best ever since.” You let out a watery giggle, Max’s smile warming your cheeks. “I never thought I’d be able to thank the person who gave me my best day, but then, here you are, giving me something I needed again. So, wow, thank you. I…thank you.”

Max clears his throat, his own eyes glassy.

“Can I hug you?” he asks, and you push into his arms without further preamble. He holds you with deep breaths, both of your hearts cracking open and healing pressed together. The overwhelming scent of sweat and spicy deodorant and the warmth of his skin is a balm to your frazzled nerves. His cheek rests against your forehead and when you squeeze him a little tighter he returns it.

When you part, your reddened eyes and sniffling noses make you both snort out laughs, moving to the sink to freshen up. You powder your face, surprisingly unselfconscious after all that just happened. Max straightens his tie and sweeps back his hair. It looks soft, barely styled. His shoulders seem lighter.

Both presentable, he lets you into the hallway, hazarding a peek to prevent any scandal. You walk side by side as he asks you where you’re starting work - transcription - and you ask where you’ll be able to find him - the mailroom. He waits for you to sign in with the front desk before leading you to the elevators, not so surreptitiously angling for the empty one before leading you in. He’s meant to be going down a floor, but rides with you up to the sixth.

“I’m glad you made that wish,” he says once the doors shut, the elevator whirring to life under your feet. “And that you didn’t make the other ones. You’re already beautiful.” He says the last three words quietly, like they would spook you if he said them with his whole chest. Your cheeks burn, the smile dimpling them. “And…thank you. For telling me. No one’s ever told me they’ve been happy.”

You ride in silence until just before your floor, turning to look at the man who gave you so much. He’s watching you like a miracle, like he wants to wrap you in his arms again, like he wants to say something very stupid to a person he barely knows. He swallows it instead, but you can’t help yourself. You lift up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek, and savor the way he leans into it.

“My hero,” you whisper, stepping out to let the doors close between you.

Your lips, and your words, linger on him for days. Your impressions lingers on his heart for longer. After a week he tries to forget, to push you to the background in a futile attempt at self-preservation. You don’t know him, and he doesn’t know you. Fate smashed you together but you should part just as quickly, save you both the heartache. He’s still a complicated man, and you deserve better than that.

It works until he gets a piece of mail for you, two weeks later, and possessed by some boldness he’s forgotten he has, he plasters a sticky note on it.

“I hope your first week has been better than your first day.”

He wants to write so much more, but knowing anyone could see it stops his hand.

He doesn’t expect a response, at least not right away. You might still be embarrassed. So when he’s closing up at the end of the day and you come up beside him, the shock on his face breaks you into laughter.

“My week has been nowhere near as good as my first day,” you finally say. “But I did find a good place to eat a few blocks away. Great dinner options.” Max’s heart pulls between stopping and beating uncontrollably in his chest until he finally says, “We better check it out then.”

The laughter is just as easy as the first day, the conversation even better. He refuses to let you leave without trying the milkshakes, and beams when he watches something heavy fall off your shoulders as you look at him.

You tell him more about your life, your friend that brought you both together more than she’d ever imagined. He tells you about the life he lives now, of Alistair and how proud he is of him. Questions and anecdotes and words both loud and soft wrap around you in the wooden booth. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s felt like Maxwell Lorenzano.

When he walks you to your subway stop Max’s hand falls to your lower back and remains. The soft way you look at him makes him think that maybe all his heroics have finally gotten him somewhere after all.

And next time he finds himself in a bathroom with you, it’s very much on purpose.

END

I didn't want to spoil the turn, but yeah that's the face he gives her and it makes me emotional just looking at it.

#max lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #prolix fics

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idolatrybarbie · 3 months

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main masterlist | pmamc masterlist

summary: For PMAMC '24. Blackjack has the best odds of winning in any casino game. All you have to do is beat the dealer. Still, the notion doesn’t comfort Maxwell Lord. He likes to be certain. He likes to win.

rating & word count: explicit - 18+ only, minors & blank blogs get blocked! | 4.9k

content tags: takes place in the 80s, fem!OC with no physical descriptions, gambling (pls don't), alcohol and references to it, descriptions of fake gore and blood, reader smokes, references to domestic violence and abuse, smut - pegging, anal fingering, come eating, praise.

tags & notes: @amanitacowboy | I had to watch several videos on how blackjack works for this. Still don't get it.

The noise of the room bubbles up around him, the sound of slots and smell of money threatening to slosh over like a spilled drink. The colourful trill of fruit machines announcing another loser can’t penetrate Max’s focus like it was designed to. His eyes are glued to the velvet green table, watching the vested woman with a crooked smile deal out another round of cards.

Blackjack has the best odds of winning in any casino game. All you have to do is beat the dealer. Still, the notion doesn’t comfort Maxwell Lord. He likes to be certain. He likes to win.

The dealer lays out a new hand with deft fingers. A three and a queen; six and an ace; the Queen and Jack of Spades; another ace and another three. Cancel, cancel, two high cards, another cancel. He adjusts the count in his head. Minus two.

With the hand played, the woman at the end of the table with wire-framed glasses surrenders. Half of her bet returns to the pot, the other half scooped up by the dealer. The two other men at the table double down. Max bets only a few chips, swiping a hand through the front strands of his sandy brown hair.

The cards sit at minus two against the players, in favour of the dealer. As she doles out a new crop of cards, he keeps counting. A five; a ten; the Queen of Clubs; a four. The round ends at minus three.

He’s keeping track, visualizing the numbers bright and shiny at the forefront of his mind. Max counts the hits and stands as the new deck is laid out, the running count increasing to twelve over the next couple games. He bets five hundred dollars in the next game, immediately receiving an ace and the King of Spades. At this three-to-two table, he’s just won 750 dollars.

The dealer is asking if he wants to continue playing, carrying his winnings over into the next round. Max’s focus has left the table and the small mountain of chips he can call his own. His eyes are drawn to the stage at the back of the long casino hall, smoke polluting the air around the draped black curtains before they pull away.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a proud voice booms over the sound system. “Please put your hands together for…the amazing Killian Loftus!”

A platform parts within the floor of the stage, a man slowly rising from beneath on a silver plate of metal. He sports a finely pressed suit, the tails swaying as he walks a few steps away from his spot, accepting the applause he’s given. As he’s smiling at the crowd gathered near the stage, a woman struts across the shiny floor to stand next to him.

Her tights are sheer black, covering the smooth landscape of her legs and thighs up to her crotch. From there, they disappear under a silky black bunny suit that cuts high at her hips, a fanciful bow tie collar around her neck. In place of rabbit ears sits a small top hat. She waves at the audience, waggling each finger. As this woman scans over the sectioned sea of people, Maxwell swears they make eye contact from across the room.

The dealer at the blackjack table asks him if he’d like to rejoin once more. He glances back only for a moment, shaking his head with a brisk no in her direction. Max haphazardly shuffles his chips into his clear plastic rack, making sure to count every one. When he’s organized himself, he leaves the cushioned leather seat at the gambling table to join the crowd close to the stage. A seat in the back suits him just fine, the parting of heads in front of him leaving a perfect view to the magician and his beautiful assistant.

The great Killian Loftus’ first bout of magic involves slight of hand tricks performed on a murky glass orb. He shuffles it in his palm as onlookers ooh and ahh. When he seemingly extracts another, smaller glass ball from the original one and regards the audience with a look of feigned surprise, Max can’t help himself as he rolls his eyes. Observing the stage, he can see that Loftus’ assistant feels a bit of the same. She sits perched on a black stool staring at her fingernails, forgotten in the act.

It’s another ten minutes of card tricks and optical illusions before Killian announces, “And now…for my greatest trick! I will make my dazzling Bunny here disappear.”

Bunny. Can’t be her real name, but Max likes the sound of it for now. He imagines, for a brief moment, gritting out that name as she bounces on his cock. The thought has him stiffening in his slacks already.

Bunny stands from her stool, walking behind the shadowy black curtain. When she reappears, she’s wheeling a long purple coffin onto the stage. On top of the box is a saw. Bunny hands it to Loftus, who holds it up for the audience to see. At first, Max can’t tell if it’s real or fake. When Killian drags his pointer finger along one of its rigid teeth, he winces, finger coming away bloody. Definitely real.

He sucks at his finger, the blood disappearing as Bunny gets into the gaudy casket. She looks at the people in the crowd once more, the stage lights highlighting a kilowatt smile. Laying back in the box, Bunny disappears as Loftus secures a sparkling lid over top of her. Max knows that by now, his assistant will have slipped through the fake bottom of the box, crouched at the bottom of the curtained cart that the coffin traveled in on.

Loftus asks, “Now, you’re in there for certain Bunny?”

The audience can only hear muffled speech from inside the box.

“How ‘bout you just knock for us, sweetheart?” the magician asks. The pure condescension in his tone makes Max’s blood boil in the slightest. Even if it’s an act, where does a guy like that get off on acting so…lordly.

It’s not his job to save her, Max knows this. He is simply here to watch. And watch he does.

A knock is heard from inside the box, confirming to the audience that Bunny is still with us. That’s when Killian takes the saw, setting it right in the middle of the coffin. He begins to cut into the wood, sweat beading at his retreating hairline between the exertion and the stage lights.

“Folks, you are about to watch me tear this sweet girl apart,” he says. Max doesn’t miss the innuendo, huffing under his breath. “And then! I will put her right back together.”

The saw moves further and further through the coffin, eventually reaching whereabouts Bunny’s body would lay. As Loftus continues to saw, a tearing sound accompanies the grating noise of splitting wood. Killian’s brow pinches in confusion, his hand slowing but not stopping. As he cuts deeper, red liquid trickles down the front side of the cedar box. That trickle grows to a stream, crimson pouring from the coffin as the rip of something softer grows louder.

Members of the crowd begin to stand, cries and shouts for Loftus to stop erupting from their seats.

“If you’ll all just give me a moment here…” he says with a grunt. Finally, he cuts through the last inch of the coffin. When he lays the saw down on the floor of the stage, it smeared in what can only be blood. It slides out of the box easily, pooling by the magician’s spiffy dress shoes. “Everyone calm down,” Killian says. “There’s nothing to worry about. See?”

As he asks the question, he pulls apart the two halves of the coffin. Inside, what looks to be the corpse of Bunny has been split into two parts. Her guts are spilled between the two halves like webbing, slopping onto the floor as Killian Loftus pulls her large intestine taut. A woman in the crowd screams, the rest of them tittering nervously. A man in the front row hurls onto the wine-stained carpet. Max’s own stomach roils at the sight. He covers his mouth and looks away.

That’s when he spots her. The assistant—Bunny, or whatever her real name is. Distinctly not sawed in half, waltzing away in her towering heels; she slips between poker tables, dodging players left and right. Wherever she’s going, she is in a hurry. Max can’t help himself, standing to follow. He gets one last look at the stage. Two security guards have a hold on each of Loftus’ arms, holding him still as a third whips out metal cuffs from his utility belt. For all they know, he’s just committed live murder.

The air outside the casino is cool against Maxwell’s skin. He catches his breath, taking in lungfuls at a time as he glances around the sidewalk bathed in neon lights. The hustle and bustle of foot traffic nudges him back closer to the doors, chips still safe against his ribs. The smell of tobacco invades his nose. Max looks to his left, and there she is. Still in her bunny suit, the mysterious woman pulls a cigarette from her lips to look at him. She flashes him her smile again, blindingly beautiful.

“Out here by yourself, handsome?” she asks, taking another drag.

“I was looking for you,” Max admits.

“Weren’t too amused by my little stunt, huh?”

“I thought it was brilliant.”

“Brilliant?” the woman asks, eyebrows raising with the word. She seems to take a moment to mull that over—mull him over, before she says, “Well thanks.”

“Of course,” Max returns.

Then she says, “You know, you’re pretty brilliant yourself. I saw you at the blackjack table.”

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating,” he smiles.

“Your lips twitch every time the there’s a cancel. A draw,” the magician’s assistant says. “It’s your tell.”

Maxwell didn’t think he had one. He’s surprised it’s taken this long for anyone to notice. If she has, that means she’s been watching him a lot longer than their shared look at the start of the show.

“And what’s yours?” he asks, taking a bold step closer. By now, the cigarette has burned down to the filter. Bunny lets it fall to the cement, crushing it under the toe box of her heel.

“What if I said I don’t have one?” she asks, voice low and sultry. She smells like cigarettes and spearmint.

“Everyone has a tell,” Maxwell says.

Her lips are so close to his now. He can see the microscopic specks of glitter in her gloss as she speaks, barely a whisper.

“I guess you’ll just have to find mine.”

Right when Max moves in for a kiss, she pulls away.

“But first,” Bunny says. “I need a favour.”

“Anything,” he says instantly. A dog on a leash.

She pulls a scrap of paper from her bra, taking a hold of Max’s hand and folding it into his palm. He relishes in its warmth, cock stirring once again as he thinks about what this paper has touched. He wants to hold her, caress every part of her beautiful body.

“You need to get into this room. It’s reserved for Loftus. Under the bed, there’s a briefcase. Bring it to me.”

“Where can I find you?” he asks.

She simply says, “You’ll find me, baby.”

The magician’s assistant walks away with a sway in her hips. Max is mesmerized by her ass in that outfit, watching ‘til she disappears around the corner. He almost goes after her, stopping himself. He schools his desperation into determination. Retrieve a briefcase? Max can surely manage that. He looks at the address scribbled down on the paper. Just south of here, a little ways up Las Vegas Boulevard.

First, he returns to the casino to cash out his chips. 750 dollars richer, he exits the building once again to join the people on the street. Walking down the long strip, he keeps an eye out for the place he’s looking for. The hotels and casinos tower over him and everyone else, overwhelming in their grand stature. Lights of all colours bathe different sections of his vision; everything highlighted, all of it begging for his attention and the opening of his wallet.

Max reaches the address on the piece of paper, staring up at the MGM Grand. Across the street from replica Lady Liberty, this has to be the largest building in mass size that he’s ever seen. The glass structure seems to glow, alternating black and wizard green stripes lining its entirety. He doesn’t take too long to gawk, ducking his head and moving toward the entrance.

Through the abstract front doors, marble flooring slides beneath his feet. The lobby is dotted with hundreds of pot lights. In the middle of everything is a branded flower garden. From this distance, Max can’t tell if the plants are real or fake. All he can focus on is the life-sized golden lion statue sitting among them on a pedestal. A spotlight filters down on the creature from the divoted, sparkling ceiling.

It is purely overwhelming. All of it makes his eyes hurt. Maxwell simultaneously wants it all, and wishes everything would disappear.

The slip of paper has details for the penthouse on the thirtieth floor. Maxwell beelines for the elevator, getting on alone. The doors creep closed in front of him as he scans over the buttons panel. Twenty-nine glowing circles wait for him. Number thirty has a hole next to it, the light behind it dead. Running a thumb over it, he can tell that it’s fit for a key. The elevator doesn’t move, the doors opening again moments later. Max walks back into the lobby, eyes darting around as he forms a plan.

He’s a smart man. Quick-thinking; had to be growing up, having only mere moments to make decisions before his father burst into one of his unpredictable rages. His heart would pound, lungs floating without air in his chest as he got to work with his rational brain. The part of him that pointed out the best hiding spots under the bed or in his mom’s closet, or when was a good time to ditch the house for a few hours entirely.

That same part of his mind starts working again now, taking in his surroundings instead of fighting them, positing the best solution. Max takes a deep breath, reorganizing himself. He can do this. He starts walking to the lobby desk, leaning into a bit of Mick Jagger swagger. When he reaches the counter, he spreads his hands over the edge of it, the ring on his finger catching the light.

“Sweetheart,” Max begins, imitating Killian Loftus’ grating persona. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I can’t seem to find my key.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Can I have your name and room number?” the woman behind the desk asks. Her hair is tightly crimped, blonde ends singed with heat damage. Max gives her a smirk, informing her of the booking under Loftus’ name for the uppermost suite.

“Alright sir,” she says, looking through pages in a guest book. “I’ll just need to see some identification and we will be right on our way.”

Shit. These goddamn hotels are moving towards hokey technology, getting rid of guestbooks and good old metal keys. Maxwell weathered the thin skin of his lip, pivoting his strategy. Reaching into his inner jacket pocket, he pulled out a few bills from his gambling winnings.

“How much to overlook that little requirement?” Max asks.

“Four hundred dollars,” the woman says immediately.

Max blinks at her, turning away for only a moment. All of this for one woman? One woman whom he barely knows, who’s really promised him nothing. But her beautiful face, that tantalizing smile… Fuck.

He turns back to the hotel attendant, skimming through the crisp cotton bills with his thumb to count out four hundred dollars. Max hands it to her over the counter. She discreetly tucks it into the breast pocket of her blazer, padded shoulders straightening up with pride. The attendant then hands Max a key, the metal ring dangling off her finger. He takes it from her, walking away as he unruffles his feathers.

Max returns to the elevator. The doors are about to close when a pale hand jams itself between them. They slip open again, a blonde couple glommed onto each other at the mouth joining him. Maxwell moves over in the compartment, giving them as much space as possible. The ride up feels impossibly long, the sounds of their lips pressing together making it entirely agonizing. They finally get off at the twenty-fifth floor, tumbling down the left side of the hallway to their room.

When he puts the key into the hole next to the thirtieth floor, the button lights up for him. Max presses it, loosening his tie a little as he ascends to the penthouse. The doors open with a slight ding! Setting foot into the luxury suite, he takes his time to look around. The latest and greatest model appliances deck out the kitchenette, the couch as plush as chinchilla fur. He takes his shoes and socks off, digging his toes into the soft shag carpet. Max could get used to this.

He remembers what he truly came here for like a jolt of electricity, scrambling to slide his Farragamo loafers back on, socks in hand. The briefcase. Right. Under the bed, she’d said.

Max quits milling about, looking for the bedroom among so many parlors and rooms. He finally finds it at the very back of the penthouse. He only has a moment to graze a palm over the fine linen sheets before he drops to his knees. Underneath the bed frame lies exactly what he’s looking for: the aforementioned briefcase.

Sliding it out from under the bed, Max stays kneeling on the carpet as he stares at it. He could open it, take a peek inside. Just to look, he tells himself. Anything could be in there. Money, diamonds, jewels…the thought gets him hard again. So does the promise of seeing her. He could give in to greed…or give in to her.

Really, it’s an easy choice to make.

You wait for the mystery man alone at the casino’s bar. If he has any sense, he’ll find you here. Or, you figure, he could take off with the briefcase. He’s probably opened it by now, already seen its tempting contents. You’d say that you are pissed, but you can’t really blame him.

It’s been almost an hour; a lot longer than you’d expect for a simple smash and grab. There wasn’t even the instruction to smash. No need for breaking added to this entering. No, the beautiful card counter with the light brown hair is long gone. Go figure.

“Bartender,” you signal him over, two fingers in the air. When the man shuffles to you with a towel over his shoulder, you say, “I’ll take another martini. Extra dirty this time.”

“You know, they say that dogs look like their owners,” you hear someone speak behind you. Turning slightly, you see the man from earlier—with the luscious locks and fleeting eyes, this time carrying a briefcase. The briefcase. He’s come back to you after all.

“So?” you ask. “Are you calling me a dog?”

“No, no, no,” he rushes out, immediately sitting down beside you. You like that. He’s quick to worry, easy to rile up. He seems to want you happy; to keep you pleased. “I was going to ask if the lady is like her drink.” He waits until the bartender sets the skinny glass in front of you. “Extra dirty.”

“Well, you’ve brought me what I asked for,” you say. “So that all depends on what you want…” You’re only now realizing that you don’t know this man’s name.

“Maxwell,” he offers you a hand. “Maxwell Lord.” You shake it carefully. His palms are a little sweaty. He sets the briefcase down on the bar with his other hand, eyes never leaving you.

“That’s a nice name. Maxwell Lord,” you say, testing it out on your tongue. He smiles as you say it.

“I assume your true name isn’t Bunny,” he says.

“You’ll be lucky enough to find out.” You take a sip of your drink, watching him watch you. “Y’know, I thought that you would stiff me.”

“You? Never,” Maxwell says. “I know it would haunt me for all of my days.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re too beautiful.”

That’s it. You need to see this man naked as soon as possible.

“You’re sweet,” you coo. Downing the rest of your drink in one go, you plop a few bills down on the sticky bar to cover your tab. Taking the briefcase by the handle, you offer him your other hand. “Shall we?”

“Absolutely, yes,” Maxwell nods.

You drag him through the casino, this time to a separate lobby attaching two buildings. Of course there’s a casino, bar, and hotel. One stop shopping for the tax break-wealthy drunkard with too much cash to blow. “Trickle down” your ass.

Your room on the fifth floor isn’t nearly as fancy as Killian’s at the Grand, but it’s cozy with a nice bed. That’s all the two of you need. Max doesn’t even try to take control—another thing you like. He’s a puppet and you’ve gathered his strings, pushing him back so he falls to the springy mattress.

“Okay, honey,” you say, kicking your heels off. You climb into his lap on the bed, settling over a distinct bulge in his pants. “You’re going to tell me what you want. I’ll make sure you feel real good. Okay?”

“Mhm,” Max nods. Your lips slide along his neck, leaving lipstick marks in your wake. “I want you to fuck me,” he whispers.

You pause, drawing yourself back to look in his eyes. He’s dead serious, face lax as he gazes upon you like you’re holding up the world. “You want me to fuck you?” you repeat.

“Please.” The word comes out all breathy, almost a whine drawn from Maxwell’s throat. How can you refuse him?

“Alright, baby.”

You pinch his cheek teasingly, getting off of him in search of your luggage. In the meantime, you tell him to strip. Behind you, Max starts to unbutton his shirt, discarding his baby blue suit jacket. You listen to him get undressed as you pull your suitcase up from underneath the hotel bed.

Unzipping the bag, you dig past your satiny outfits to the hidden compartment beneath your underwear. Finding what you need, you place the toy, harness, and small bottle of lubricant on the bed’s comforter. You can hear Maxwell pause as he shimmies out of his pants. When you see him again, his eyes are transfixed on the spread you have laid out.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask.

He returns to shedding his pants, then his calf-high cotton socks.

When he says, “Nothing. Nothing at all,” you cock your head, blinking at him.

“You can tell me,” you say, getting closer. Your hands brush over his bare shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Looks like a lot,” he says, eyeing the toy again.

“You can take it,” you say. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

He’s right; it is a lot. Eight solid inches of bendy silicone, all for him. You direct him onto the bed again, laying with his spine against the mattress. Max watches as you attach the thick toy to the leather harness with a metal O-ring. Then, you slip it on like a pair of panties, adjusting the buckles at your sides. Once you settle over him, you take his cock in your hand. Slow beginning strokes have Maxwell sighing against you as you kiss him.

“You were so good, Maxwell. Did a great job,” you say, sitting up.

“Y-you think so?” he asks, voice uneven.

“I know so.”

Spit runs past your lips down to where you hold him. It slides over the swollen tip of his length, down between the skin of your fingers. You ease him into slightly faster strokes, watching the way his eyes flutter with every movement. You wish you’d packed a camera for this outing to capture it permanently.

When you pull your hand away, Maxwell groans. Laid flat on the bed, you get a hold on one of his thighs, lifting it to his chest.

“Hand me that bottle, baby.”

Fumbling with the linens for a moment, Max gets a grip on the lube and hands it to you. The cap opens easily, a quick snap that brings Maxwell’s focus to your still-wet hand. He watches as a dollop of the clear gel falls to the middle of your palm. You fold your hand, spreading lubricant across the pads of your middle and pointer fingers.

You lean down towards him, tongue flat as you lick across his lips. Max moves his arms around you, hugging your body close to capture you in a sweet kiss. Tongue moving against yours, you guide your hand to his bottom half.

“You ready, honey?” you ask him.

He nods, kissing you again. You meet his tight rim with light touches, feeling Maxwell contract at the contact. As you ease a finger in slowly, he breaks away from your lips. Nuzzling into the crook of your neck, he practically purrs against your skin. Pushing deeper, his breath catches.

“That’s it, Maxwell. Feels good, doesn’t it?” you ask.

“Yes, it’s—oh god.”

“My clever boy… So good at doing what I tell you to, huh?”

“I want you to be—be happy. Content. So beautiful, I can’t…” Max rambles on.

You shush him gently, stroking the side of his face with your free hand. “Don’t worry honey. I know.”

Adding a second finger earns you a deep moan from the man beneath you. He’s being pulled in all directions, pleasure tearing him apart. His broad shoulders relax further into the bed, golden skin glowing with natural light. He is a truly alluring man. That’s why he caught your eye in the first place: someone so radiant amid the dim atmosphere of a Vegas casino.

Killian was a terrible business partner, cutting you only thirty percent of the money from any given con job you worked together. He was another seedy character in a town chock full of them. Eyeing Maxwell at that blackjack table, you saw an opportunity for something new. Someone new. Spiffy and sparkling, your very own Ken doll fresh from the packaging.

“You think you’re ready, gorgeous?” you ask, tone sweet as sugar.

“Always ready,” Maxwell answers.

His chest heaves with each pull of air into his lungs, anticipation keeping you both on edge. He watches you slather the dildo in a thick coating of lube, sliding it against Max’s balls. Then you notch the toy at the crux of his ass, head pressed against his hole. Inching slowly forward, you can’t choose between focusing on his pretty face or his ass swallowing the length of you.

“How does that feel?”

“Fantastic,” Maxwell sighs.

He takes half at first, speared open on the dildo as he measures his breathing. Max is flushed from his forehead to his cock, perspiration littering his body as precum drips from his swollen tip. You take him in hand again, stroking at soft skin in tandem with your thrusts. Small, stuttering gasps and groans fill the air as Maxwell holds you close, feeling almost every inch.

“You like my cock, honey?” you ask. “You’re so special. So, so special. A sweet boy that that takes my cock all nice…takes what I give him.”

You slow your movements to more languid pulses, barely leaving him as you rock forward.

“Fuck,” Max moans. “Please.”

“Oh, he likes that, huh?” You watch as Max’s hole swallows the rest of your lubed cock easily, hips flush with the backs of his thighs. “Greedy little boy. All eager to get fucked by me. I think you’d do anything for it.”

“Anything,” he agrees.

“Maybe next time, I’ll get you to beg.” Max moans again, holding your hips to press you deeper. “You want to kneel for me, honey? Get down on your knees all pretty for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Maxwell whispers in a chant.

“Think my pretty boy could get off just like that? On his knees, rubbing against the edge of my heel?”

“Please,” he begs you.

Your lips quirk into a smile as you watch him writhe beneath you. One word turns to a string of pleading, though you aren’t quite sure that Maxwell knows what he’s asking for. You speed up your thrusts and your hand. His eyes slip closed as he focuses on every sensation you’re giving him, hedging closer to that high just out of reach.

Leaning down over him, you catch him in a messy kiss. “Come on, baby. You can do it. Come for me.”

Maxwell heeds your words, tensing before his whole body relaxes at once. He paints the insides of his thighs and your belly with a groan, twitching with each aftershock. Dragging a finger through the mess on your skin, you collect some of his spend and push it past his lips, feeding it to him. Max suckles at your finger, tasting himself. He smiles when you take your hand back, dragging at his bottom lip.

You pull out of him slowly, discarding the harness and strap to lay down with him. Maxwell turns to face you, nose pressed to your collarbone. Idly petting his hair has him kissing your skin. Basking in the moment, you let something like bliss wash over you.

“So what do you say?” you ask eventually. “Partners?”

“Partners,” Maxwell agrees.

And that’s that.

#maxwell lord #ww84 #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #max lord x reader #wonder woman 1984 #pmamc 2024 #pedrostories #pedro pascal fanfiction #fic: stiff #except for queue

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flightlessangelwings · 1 year

Text

Is It Too Late to Tell You…

Any Pedro Pascal character x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 500

Warnings- nondescript injury, implied hospital setting, came back different trope, protectiveness, pining, love confessions, a plot twist you will not see coming

Notes- Just a little drabble with an idea that had been rattling around in my head for a bit. And I left it open for you to interpret any Pedro character you want for a bit of extra fun. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

More notes at the end of the fic.

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that as well and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post!

But this time you were scared that it went too far, that you could lose him forever. And everything between the two of you would remain unspoken forever. How you wished things were different. You wished you waited for him, stayed at his side. You wished you had told him how much you cared about him before…

“I’m sorry,” was all you whispered to his unconscious form as you reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair off his brow.

He protected you. He saved you. And you couldn’t even tell him…

A low grumble from deep in his throat made you gasp. You took his hand in yours as you pleaded his name and hovered over his face, watching his brows scrunch slightly. Your heart pounded in your chest as his eyes slowly blinked open.

A relieved sigh escaped your chest as you met his soft, warm gaze for the first time in days. Squeezing his hand, you pressed your foreshadowing against his, “You’re ok…” you breathed.

As you pulled away, he looked up at you with a weak smile. His eyes slowly lit up as he recognized your face and you had never been more happy to see his smile. But when he opened his mouth, you realized something was different about him…

“Bay-bay?” his voice was different, higher, with an accent you had never heard before, “Wha happanad?”

You let out a heavy breath as you looked at him with concern in your features and breathed his name, “You…? What…?”

“Ah mai gaad!” he exclaimed, “Dant cray bay-bay!”

“Your voice!” you couldn’t stop the sob, “What’s wrong?”

“Nathang’s wrong bay-bay,” he looked at you with those big brown eyes, “Ya sa prettay!”

You breathed his name as you cupped his face, tears filling your eyes. He was back, but he was different. Emotions overwhelmed you and you didn’t know what to think.

“Bay-bay?” his voice broke you out of your thoughts, “I gatta tell ya…” he squeezed your hand, “I lav ya bay-bay.”

The sincere look in his eyes as he said the word you’d longed to hear for so long captivated you. Your heart fluttered in your chest. This wasn’t what you had pictured at all, but he was here, he was with you, and he loved you.

Fuck it. “I lav ya ta bay-bay,” you replied as you leaned in and kissed him.

✨April fools!!!✨

Yes this is based on the snl sketch and I wanted to write this for a little April fools drabble for a while and I’m happy I got it done in time 😂😂 Please do rb and share this but don’t spoil the plot twist cause I really want to catch people off guard and make people laugh! I hope you enjoyed this!! 💖

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jpbpxma · 14 days

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hi, this is a new writing blog for pedro pascal & his characters. I have many ideas of my own to post but I'm also accepting requests for scenarios, specific characters of his you'd like to see written or just anything really, even if it's just to talk so shoot me an ask :)<3

(yes the picture is a way to bring your attention to this post)

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muldermuse · 10 months

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Muldermuse Masterlist

Fox Mulder Masterlist

Two Sinners (Gator Tillman x F!Reader) Masterlist

Pedro Pascal Characters X Reader: Headcanons

Maxwell Lord loooooves stocking (this is like 2 sentences im sorry)

Being Maxwell’s personal assistant

Javi Gutierrez nsfw thoughts

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morallyinept · 7 months

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Welcome to my Pedro Pascal Character Writing Masterlist.

©️ All my writing is protected by an officially registered copyright. I do not give you permission to copy, redistribute, translate, plagiarise, post elsewhere or feed my work into AI software.

Enjoy rummaging around here. I hope you find something you'll like! 🖤

Scoville Smut Ratings🌶️

MAIN MASTERLIST | PEDRO BOY RAMBLES | JETT'S DOODLES

Buy me a Ko-fi ☕️ If you like my work and enjoy what I put out there, you have the option of buying me a Ko-fi, if you'd like to. It's never expected, but always greatly appreciated. 🖤

See my specific Pedro Boy character lists below 👇🏻

Ezra Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

Dieter Bravo Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

Marcus Pike Masterlist

Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Dave York Masterlist

Lucien Flores Masterlist

Max Phillips Masterlist

Agent Whiskey Masterlist

Javi Gutierrez Masterlist

Detective Tim Rockford Masterlist

Din Djarin Masterlist

Pero Tovar Masterlist

Fancy a small read? My GIFLETS™️ are 500 words or less, and feature a variety of the Pedro Boys, including smut, fluff & a mix of F! M! & GN! Readers.

Multi Series & Collections Masterlist A mixture of Pedro Boys in story collections.

My Pedro Boy Rambles Masterlist Includes themed cocktails, head canons & fun with the Pedro Boys.

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palioom · 4 months

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first time for everything

summary: max gets pegged, that's all.

pairing: subby!maxwell lord x f!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; established relationship; pegging; teasing and blue balling; anal fingering; dom/sub; lowkey praise kink

a/n: minimally proofread. also i wrote this in july of last year, my god, definitely not one of my favs but I hope you enjoy! // banners by @/saradika-graphics

follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates

She laughed as she took out the colourful box from the closet, bringing it over to the table as he watched.

“Remind me again why you have these things in the first place?” Maxwell asked, feeling a little nervous, shifting in his place on the edge of the bed.

“For fun.”

What had he gotten himself into? Again.

He enjoyed relenting control to her occasionally, excited about seeing her ride him, maybe tie his wrists up, cuff him to the headboard. It got his head spinning in the most delicious ways possible, something he had never even thought of before she came into his life.

But this? He wasn’t quite sure how to feel.

She looked back at him as she took the lid off the box, seeing his concerned expression. Smiling at him reassuringly as she picked out the harness and the toy she wanted to use on him.

This wasn’t entirely new, she had put some fingers up his ass before, after a long round of talking. And they had found out that he liked it, liked her fingers inside of him while she sucked him off.

So she had brought up the possibility of fucking him for once, just here and there, easing him into the idea. But he had never said yes, something she respected.

Until now. After a week of her teasing him, occasionally brushing over his dick while passing him, pressing her ass into him while they slept.

Teasing him every day until he finally broke today, practically begging her to finally fuck him.

“I will if you let me fuck your ass, baby.” She had said and this time, he had actually agreed.

Rock hard and aching, now sitting on the bed still in his suit and waiting for her to get ready.

“You look worried.” She noted, taking a bottle of lube and bringing it over to him before throwing it on the bed. “Sure you wanna do this?”

Her hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head back so he looked up at her, brow a little furrowed, but eyes dark with lust.

He rested his broad hands on her hips, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of her pants.

“I do, my love, I am simply-”

She bent down to kiss him, muffling his whimpers.

So sensitive already.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Undressing him had taken longer than she had meant it to be, calming him down by placing her lips on every inch of skin she revealed with each newly shed piece of clothing. His neck, his broad shoulders, his chest down to his stomach. Arms, hands, thighs, she caressed every inch of him, except for his hard and weeping cock, aching for her touch.

When she began to undress herself, he was practically vibrating, needing her to touch him again, wanting to touch her but he wasn’t allowed to.

“You keep your hands to yourself, Max.” She said, opening her bra after she had already shed her blouse, giggling when his eyes wandered to her breasts. “I know you want to touch so badly, but I know you can be a good boy and wait just a little longer.”

Maxwell just nodded, mouth dry as she pulled down her dark pants, followed by her lacy underwear, a wet patch already visible at the front.

He could stare at her all day, her beautiful body as she stood fully naked in front of him, his dick twitching in anticipation.

Grinning as she reached for the harness, putting it on slowly, so slowly he was sure this was just more teasing. He couldn’t take more of this, having been on edge for a good week now, just needing her.

When she had secured all the straps, she didn’t attach the toy just yet, choosing instead to crawl over to him before pushing him onto his back with her hand on his chest, kneeling in between his open legs.

Her hands smoothed over his thick thighs, his muscles flexing below his skin as they went up and down, all the way to his knee before down to his hips again.

So soft and so warm.

“My love-”

She shushed him, hovering over him. “Patience, Max. I’ll give you what you need, don’t you worry.”

Kissing him, she brushed back his blonde hair, caressing his cheek after, then her hand went down his neck to his chest, resting it there.

“I’ll prepare you like this, yes?” She said, sitting back again and taking the bottle of lube into her hands. Watching how his eyes were focused on her hands, how she squeezed a little onto her fingers. “Then we’ll switch to hands and knees, baby.”

He nodded, trying to stay relaxed, trying to stay composed. But he was so wound up and so nervous, it seemed impossible.

Maxwell flinched a little when her fingers pressed against the tight ring of muscle, slowly easing one in as she watched his reactions.

It felt cool in contrast to how hot he was, like he was burning up from the inside. The smallest noise left him as she pushed it all the way in, smiling at him.

“C’mon, you know this already, baby.” She cooed, waiting for a moment before she began to move, her other hand smoothing over his knee in soothing motions. “Doing so well, Maxy baby.”

He grunted, rolling his eyes. How he hated this name, but she had her fun with it, hearing her giggle.

His hands fisted the sheets as she slowly added a second finger after a few moments, a moan slipping past his lips.

“How’s that feel, Maxwell?” She asked, pumping them in and out slowly, carefully. Kissing the inside of his thigh, she teased him with her teeth, smiling as she kept watching his face.

That furrowed brow, eyes shut and just taking in the feeling.

“Feels good, darling.” He said, words catching on his breath. “More, please.”

She giggled, scissoring her fingers and making him moan louder.

“You’re not quite ready yet, Max. Just a little more.”

Her free hand wandered over his abdomen, close to where he needed her most, but not giving him what he wanted, seeing his dick twitch.

“So impatient, baby.”

He whined, clearly getting worked up now from not being able to touch her, her fingers pressing against that good spot inside of him repeatedly.

“Please, my love.” He said, opening his dark eyes to look at her. “I need more, my darling, please.”

He looked so sweet, flushed red and begging for her.

Hair sticking to his forehead, the vein on his neck visible now like whenever she had him like this.

Slowly she removed her fingers from him, smiling.

“You’re so beautiful when you beg, Max.” She let her palms wander over his thighs again before helping him onto his hands and knees. “Such a good boy for me.”

It was strange to be like this on their bed, not daring to look back as he heard her move around, heard a soft little click as she attached the toy to her harness.

Then her hands were back on him, rubbing over his broad back, up and down his spine before moving further down, grabbing a handful of his ass with a quiet laugh.

“Looking so good for me on all fours, baby.”

He heard the lid of the bottle opening again, then some slick sounds as she spread it on the silicone dick before he felt more on his asshole, wincing at the temperature change again.

She lined herself up with him, the tip just lightly pressed against him, stilling. Her hands wandered to his hips, thumbs tracing small circles into his hip bones.

“You ready?” Her voice was soft as she asked, the usual tone she carried in these situations gone. Not really commanding or mocking, just gentle for once, knowing he needed it.

He nodded, humming in approval, heart beating out of his chest.

“Need to hear you.” She said, bending over to kiss his shoulder. “Speak up, Maxwell.”

“Yes, I’m ready, my love.” He said, voice a little shaky.

Slowly she guided the strap into him, smiling at the noises he made, little moans and whimpers as she stretched him open more, until she was all the way inside, stilling.

It was a strange feeling, he felt incredibly full and wondered if this was how she felt every time he fucked her.

But it wasn’t bad, liking how the toy felt inside of him, how her hands soothingly moved over his back and over her sides, just giving him the time he needed to adjust.

Somehow he knew he wouldn’t last long like this. Too worked up already and she hadn’t even started moving yet.

“I’d love to see you like this more often.” She whispered, holding onto his hips as she gently moved her hips back before pushing back into him. Starting out with shallow movements and making him moan, his arms trembling slightly. “Fuck, you’re being so good for me, Maxy baby.”

It took her a moment before she found a rhythm, slow and gentle at first, then picking up speed.

“Tell me how good my cock feels inside of you, Max.” She said, giving his hip a soft slap, making him flinch and move back into her. “Tell me how good I’m fucking you, pretty boy.”

Maxwell moaned, already too close to the edge, his dick aching for some touch as she pushed into him again and again, her hand wandering over his back, then grabbing his hair. Pulling at it just a little so he had to throw his head back.

“Maxwell.”

He groaned, pushing back against her thrusts.

“You’re fucking me well, darling.” He finally grit out, finding it difficult to find the words with how good she made him feel. “You feel good inside of me.”

Her hips snapped into him harshly, giggling at the throaty moan that spilled from him.

“What feels good inside of you? Let me hear it, baby.”

Her fingers curled into his hair tighter, the sting only adding to the pleasure he felt.

“Your cock, my love.” Maxwell said and for some reason it felt as weird as it felt good to say it. “Your cock feels perfect.”

She giggled, letting go of his hair in favour of grabbing his hips again, thrusting harder now, knowing he was close just based on his sounds.

“Such a good boy for me, Max.” She cooed, bending over him to kiss his spine. “Want me to touch you? Want me to make you come, pretty boy?”

He nodded, needing her slim fingers around his aching cock.

“Please, my love, I’m so close.”

How sweet he sounded, lost in the pleasure.

Her hand found his dick, hard and leaking, stroking him in time with her thrusts. Feeling him pulse and twitch, his sounds going up in pitch, begging her again and again under his breath to let him come.

“Let go, Maxy baby.” She whispered against his shoulder, speeding up her movements. “Cum for me, been such a good boy.”

He came with a deep groan, arms trembling and threatening to give out as he spilled himself into the sheets, covering her fingers as well. His whole body shook, whimpering as she kept stroking him until he begged her to stop, his voice almost sounding pained from how sensitive he felt.

“Done so well, baby.” She said, kissing his shoulder, licking her fingers clean with a small laugh. “You’re always so good for me.”

Sitting back on her knees, she carefully pulled out of him, her hands rubbing over his lower back as she did, relishing in the soft whimpers he let out, letting himself fall into the mattress.

He felt empty, rolling over onto his back as he caught his breath, watching her as she removed the strap and the harness before crawling over him again.

“How are you feeling, baby?” She asked, her hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb rubbing over his cheekbone.

He hummed, his rough palms on her thighs. “Feeling pretty good, thank you, my love.”

She smiled, happy that he felt good, that he had liked it.

“So you think you’ll let me do it again?” Her smile was infectious, making him smile as well as she bent down to kiss him.

He chuckled, nodding.

“I think so, yes.”

She kissed his cheek, moving to stand again.

“I’ll draw you a bath, you deserve to be pampered after I blue balled you for a week.” She laughed as she went over to the bathroom, ignoring the throbbing between her legs for now. There was always more time after the bath to put his mouth to good use.

“You better join me, darling.” He called after her, stil boneless on the bed as he looked after her, watched her hips swing as she went.

“Sure.”

He chuckled.

Whatever he had gotten himself into with her, he more than enjoyed it.

She took more than good care of him, giving him a well deserved break.

And in a way, he could barely wait for the next time that she decided to bring out that sweet toy of hers.

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal #maxwell lord smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #wonder woman #my writing #fics

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 1 month

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Fic Rec Friday Submissions are open!

This week I’m looking for themes!

Summer

Beach

Vacation

Bbq

Forced proximity (in heat? But general forced proximity is good)

Happy for other submissions too but I thought it could be fun to do a theme!

Fandoms:

Pedro Pascal Characters

Oscar Isaac Characters

COD MW Characters

(Definitely not inspired by this beauty!)

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nerdieforpedro · 2 months

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Weekend Update 02/18/2024

Nerdie! What is new this week?

Welp, I passed my math class (yup - mid thirties in a math class 🤨 it was required). Thankfully it's the only one. I've got one more and then I can look forward to the next term. I think my orientee's last week is this week, I have more stickers to stick on people at work and I burned some candles.

We're glad you burned candles? We're not sure what to say to that. Happy for everything else though. Any new fics?

Just two for the week, I've been focused on my classes so I've been putting out less finished work and prepping series that I have planned:

Don't assume on Valentine's Day - Ezra x plus size female reader (Yup, I wrote a Valentine's fic, just barely? It's mentioned but not the focus. Implied smut, some angst, fluff. All in one.)

Wrong Beach and a Speedo - Javier Gutierrez x Abigail (plus size OFC) I finally started my Javi G series! Is it fluffy like his hair? Yes. Will it stay that way? Mostly only because we gotta move the plot along. 80% fluff, 15% smut adjacent (subject to change, could be less) and 5% violence. Like very small. No worries. Unsure about how many parts, maybe 5-7?

We're not sure about those percentages, but they do add up to 100% so we'll see. You can't be mean to Javi G Nerdie! You can't!

Who said I was? What do you take me for?

*reminds Nerdie of Tim, Frankie, Joel, and Javi P and their truama*

👀 I mean, I get it but no worries. Let's talk about what I read this week alright. Jeez...

Salt + Pepper by @soft-girl-musings (Moon Boys and fem reader)

You be my revolver, I've got you in my hands by @winniethewife (Jake Lockley x fem reader)

Happy Tuesday! by @maggiemayhemnj (Joel Miller x fem reader)

Special Day for a special girl by @winniethewife (Blue x fem reader)

Compulsion by @iamskyereads (Ezra x OFC Beatrice)

Misunderstanding by @romanarose (Marc Spector x fem reader)

Captain's Orders by @laurfilijames (Will Miller x fem reader)

Bloom by @violentdelightsandviolentends (Bucky x fem reader)

Helping Hand by @izelascendant (Din Djarin x OFC)

Perks of being a Wallflower by @soft-girl-musings (Jake Lockley x plus size fem reader)

Stiff by @idolatrybarbie (Maxwell Lord x fem reader) part of PMAMC 2024

Same Time Next Week by @magpiepills (Marcus Moreno x fem reader) part of PMAMC 2024

Pop Goes the Javi by @morallyinept (Javier Peña x fem reader) part of the PMAMC 2024

Flying to New Heights by @fettuccin-e (Frankie Morales x fem reader)

Sadly, some of these had been in my drafts folder way too long. I went from 38 this evening to 33... 🫣 To be fair, All of these I have reblogged, I have just been adding more things to read. So many wonderful things to read. 😭 An excellent problem to have.

Anyway, I should have chapter two of my Javi G fic up this week on Wednesday. Not sure what else. I'll try a Drabble. If I can keep it that short. Maybe about Javi P, Frankie or Santiago. I owe them nice things. 😘

Have a great week everyone! 🥰

Love Nerdie! 💜

P.S. One might see there's been any uptick in Oscar Isaac fics, @for-a-longlongtime is to blame for sending me all the Santi gifs she seemed to have. 👀 My eyes didn't complain though. 😂

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daddy-dins-girl · 6 months

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Kindred - Chapter 5

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Maxwell Lord x f!Reader (Nanny)

Word Count: 7.8k

Chapter Summary: You and Max finally go on a date, and get to have an entire night together without the impending threat of a 6 year old sleeping just down the hallway ;)

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Smut. (So much smut). Oral sex. Vaginal fingering. Maxwell's tie from chapter one makes a return to the scene and I'm telling you now it comes with its own warning. Unprotected p in v sex. Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Praise kink, goodboy!maxwell. If I missed anything else, lmk!

Saturday morning you wake up, unfortunately, to cold sheets beside you and an otherwise empty bed. It’s early, you know this because the alarm to get Alistair up hasn’t gone off yet and you idly wonder where Max has gone to. You did go to bed rather early last night because he had been so jet lagged so you’re not surprised he’d been up early, his internal clock probably still not readjusted back to this timezone yet.

You sit up, rubbing your tired eyes and a little smile crosses your lips when you look down and are reminded that you had gone to bed in Max’s dress shirt last night. Almost as if on instinct, you grab the collar and bring it up in front of your nose and take a deep inhale and a dreamy little sigh escapes you when the lingering scent of Max invades your senses. You’ll have to remember for next time how absolutely divine it is to wake up in his clothes that are still smelling of him so you can make sure you do it again.

And given Max’s reaction to seeing you in it last night, you don’t think he’ll be opposed to the idea.

You push out of the bed to get up and go to the bathroom when a little folded piece of paper on the nightstand catches your eye. Opening it up a smile automatically crosses your lips when you recognize Max’s loopy handwriting.

Angel, got up early, thought I’d get a head start on my day to be sure I’m free in time for dinner. I’m looking forward to it and can’t wait. Will pick you up at your place (this is a date, and I’m a gentleman!) at 7:00. See you then, Maxwell xoxo

You have a little giggle at his note. It’s sweet that he wants to treat this as authentic a date as possible. And he rightly assumed you’d want to go to your own home to get ready there. Of course you have basic essentials here, but you really want to go all out on your hair and makeup for tonight and look your best so you’ll need to go home first where you have access to your full arsenal of beauty products.

Your fingers ghost along the end of the note where Max had signed his name with hugs and kisses and you feel like you’re in fourth grade again and just got passed a note from a boy you’re crushing on. You laugh to yourself and shake your head but you refold the note up regardless and take it into the bathroom with you to shove it into the pocket of your discarded Pajama shorts from the night before because you are absolutely going to be keeping this cute little note and tucking it away somewhere safe in your room later.

The rest of the morning is busy. You get Alistair his breakfast and then park him in front of the TV so you can get some things done around the house. You do Alistair’s laundry, strip Max’s bed and remake it with fresh linens (though you’re hoping the two of you are just going to ruin them tonight, you still want everything to start off as perfect as possible) and then as your waiting for the laundry to finish a thought crosses your mind and you grab Alistair and get into your car for a quick trip down to the corner store.

You’re not home very long before Alistair’s mother arrives to pick him up and the two of you exchange hellos and have a quick little chat while Alistair runs down the driveway to get in the car, eager to get his weekend with his mom started.

“Oh, before you go,” you begin as you run quickly over the kitchen and grab the few things you had picked up from the store this morning and put them all in a bag. “I figured you haven’t been home in a couple weeks, you probably wouldn’t have fresh milk and bread and basics and stuff and I’m sure the last thing you want to do now is go grocery shopping” you explain as you hold out the bag to her and she smiles warmly at you and puts a hand over her heart.

“Oh my gosh, that is so thoughtful, thank you so much! You’re right, I didn’t even think about that, my head is just…” she motions wildly with a wave of her hand, “all over the place, you know?”

“I’m very sorry about your mother” you say sincerely. “I’m glad at least that they think they can help her. She’s very lucky to have you to be with her” you offer a kind smile.

“Thank you, yes, we’re staying optimistic” she smiles back. “And thank you for just… everything you do for Alistair, and of course for stepping in the last two weeks, last minute like that. I’m sure Max has expressed how much he appreciates it but I really do as well, so thank you” She smiles again and reaches to place a hand on your arm and offers a small squeeze.

“It’s no problem, I love that Alistair to bits. He’s a really great kid” you say sincerely and Sofia nods in agreement.

Your pleasant chat however is broken up when Alistair hangs his head out the car window and starts yelling for his Mom to hurry up and you both have a little laugh at his impatience (’gets that from his father’, Sofia remarks) but you say your goodbyes and wave from the door to Alistair until you see the car disappear down the street.

The rest of your day seems like it just drags on and on. You decided to head home after Alistair got picked up and do a little tidying around your apartment and then try and distract yourself with first a book and then some TV until it's finally late enough that you can shower and begin to get ready for your date. Now the time seems to pass way too quickly and you’re still putting the finishing touches on your appearance when you hear a knock at your door.

“Shoot” you mutter as you run off to the bedroom to grab your shoes. Thankfully the pair you had your mind set on wearing tonight is right at the front of your closet so you don’t have to waste time ransacking the place and you quickly slip them on before turning to your full length mirror, smoothing down your dress and giving yourself a final once over. Satisfied with the result you take a steadying breath and then head for the door, smiling wide when you open it.

“Sorry, I was just-” the words die on your lips as your gaze immediately zeroes in on the tie he’s chosen to wear this evening. The tie. The infamous navy blue tie with the gold paisley pattern that started it all. Tonight he’s pairing it with a black three-button suit with a light blue shirt and gold cufflinks to match the pattern color in his tie and it takes you a few seconds to realize you’ve stopped speaking and you’re just standing there staring at him with your mouth still half open mid-sentence.

“Angel you look breathtaking” Max compliments, snapping you back to reality. His smile is bright and genuine as he takes another step forward and leans in to brush a kiss to your cheek.

“And you look very handsome, Maxwell. I like the tie” You tease with a wink and you see a bit of a blush rise up his neck.

“I thought you might” he smirks and then begins fiddling nervously with his cufflinks before he smooths his hands down the imaginary wrinkles in his jacket and squares his shoulders again, taking a breath.

“Are you ready, my dear?” He asks and you nod.

The restaurant Max takes you to is beautiful. All low lighting and romantic candlelight and an extensive wine list that is almost all in French which you don’t speak a word of, but thankfully Max seems to know what he’s doing and orders a bottle of something after only a brief glance at the menu.

“Very good choice sir” the waiter agrees with a curt nod and then turns to take his leave.

“Do you think they always say that?” You find yourself asking suddenly, your face scrunched up a little in thought.

“What’s that?” Max asks, not following.

“Complimenting your taste in wine. Like do you think you could order the most dog shit wine on the list and they’re just pre-programmed to tell you that you’ve made an excellent choice?” You say and Max rewards you with a genuine laugh that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. You don’t really go to fancy places like this (mostly because you can’t afford it) but you’ve seen enough of these scenes play out in movies and television to know what they’re like.

“Well I guess next time we’ll order the… what was it? Dog shit wine? And we’ll see what happens…” He jokes and now it’s you that’s laughing, just as your server returns with the very good bottle of wine.

“Are we celebrating anything this evening?” The waiter asks, making polite conversation as he holds his arm out with a napkin draped over it and pours a small sample of the wine for Max to taste.

“A… first date” Max replies after a moment, winking across the table at you and you give him a smile in return, the butterflies returning to your stomach.

“Oh first date, wow. Forgive me, you just seemed so comfortable with each other I thought perhaps a wedding anniversary” The server comments just as Max gives the wine a quick swirl around the glass before taking a small sip.

“Excellent” Max concludes on the wine and the server gives a nod before he fills Max’s glass and then your own and excuses himself, saying he’ll be back shortly.

“To my radiant wife on our wedding anniversary” Max says teasingly, raising his glass to you.

“Easy slugger, let’s just try and get through the first date first and see how it goes, okay?” You joke back before clinking your glass against his and you both take a sip.

Dinner seems to fly by. Maybe it was because you had barely seen each other for a week, but you and Max never seem to run out of things to talk about. You ask him a lot of questions about London because you’re genuinely curious about the city and the architecture and the culture and he’s fairly knowledgeable despite not having spent a lot of time there himself. He asks you about what your travel bucket list would be - London excluded, he already knows it’s one of the places you’d love to see - and the conversation just continues flowing until you’re cleaning the last morsel of creme brulee off of Max’s offered fork while your server drops off your bill at the table.

“Max thank you for dinner, that might have been the best meal I’ve ever had” you tell him as he closes up the leather bound fold after tucking his credit card inside and hands it back.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it Angel” he smiles warmly at you, reaching across the table to hold your fingers with his.

“I mean it Max this is… It’s really nice, that you did this for me. For us” And you mean that. Max didn’t have to take you out or spend money on you but he wants to and you’re more than happy about it. Not that you need him to take you to fancy places or spend money on you, but it's just nice that he wants to put in an effort.

“Look, I know things may be a little… unconventional for us” Max begins with a shrug, his thumb rubbing across your knuckles now of the hand he’s still holding. “But you deserve this. To be treated right. Special. Because you are, very special to me” he finishes and brings your hand up to place a kiss to the back of it.

“Thank you Max” you smile warmly and give his hand a light squeeze.

The drive back to Max’s house is practically torture. Your whole body is thrumming with an excited but slightly nervous energy. It feels like you’ve been waiting for this night, for this moment, for so long when in reality it’s only been a couple of weeks.

And you still can’t believe he wore that damn tie… certainly not helping matters any.

“You um… still want to come back to mine?” Max asks a little nervously from beside and seeing that he’s just as flustered as you are, it actually helps settle your own nerves and you give him a smile, reaching across the console to interlock your fingers with this over the gear shifter. The question almost throws you for a loop before you realize that Alistair is not home which means technically you could just go back to your own place for the entire weekend until Sunday night if you wanted to, because that’s what happens when Alistair is not there to be cared for, you go to your own home. But that was before. Before Mr. Lord was just Max. Before you were his Angel.

“More than anything” you answer him with and the relieved breath that leaves his lips doesn’t escape your notice. It also doesn’t escape your notice how Max’s foot presses a little bit harder down on the gas pedal once you’ve confirmed your destination.

When you get inside the house Max looks a little nervous again, hands smoothing down over the tops of his thighs as he stands near the doorway.

“Do you want some more wine?” He asks but you simply shake your head and give him a coy smile.

“No”

He smiles back, releasing a breath and then takes a step closer to you so you’re mere inches apart. He cradles your face in both his hands and then he’s kissing you. It’s deep and slow and sensual the way he breathes you in and slides his tongue against yours as you swallow each other's moans. He takes a step closer, walking you backwards until your back hits the front door and he’s still on you, never breaking the kiss. One of his large hands leaves your face and smooths down your side to hold at your waist while the other finds purchase on your throat, angling your head just right so his mouth can begin its slow attack on the other side as his lips slide down your jaw to your neck.

“Max,” you breathe out, chest heaving already. Max only answers you with a moan into the hollow of your throat as he kisses and licks at the soft flesh.

“Baby, take me to bed” you whisper into his ear and he plants a couple more quick kisses on you before he pulls back slightly and wordlessly grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs.

You get into the bedroom and immediately notice how candles have littered the room on every surface. Max must’ve set it up when he got home from work, and he quickly starts moving around the space to light each one while you wait patiently, standing next to the bed.

“Someone was presumptuous” you tease. “Thinking you were gonna get lucky on a first date huh?”

Max lights the last candle and then strides over to you and tucks some hair behind your ear before his hand rests on your cheek as he confesses quietly, “Angel I’m already lucky”.

“Sweet boy” you smile before taking his hand from your cheek in both of yours and bringing to your lips to kiss his palm. “Will you…” you trail off, dropping his hand but turn your back to him so you’re facing the bed and gesture with a nod of your head to the zipper at the back of your dress.

Max agrees with a nod but deliberately takes his time with it, because of course he does. Both his hands land on your hips and he pulls you a little closer so he can lean forward and start placing kisses all over the back and sides of your neck and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine.

“Feels good Baby” you murmur as you tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, giving him better access and your arm reaches up behind you to hold around his head so your fingers can push through his hair.

Max hums into your throat, continuing to place hot, wet kisses everywhere he can reach as his hands begin smoothing upwards until he has a handful of each of your breasts in his hands over your dress and he gives a little squeeze and you moan, your hand in his hair gripping a little tighter.

He’s kissing your neck and side of your face and alternating between massaging your breasts and just running his hands all over your stomach and chest and sides for several minutes and it’s like he’s everywhere all at once but you still need more.

You need out of this dress, for starters.

Max thankfully seems to be as in tune with your body as you and knows what you need before you have a chance to voice it and finally you hear the slow drag of the zipper at the back of your dress coming down. A little drawn out whine leaves your lips when Max’s tongue starts following the path down your spine where he’s slowly revealing your smooth flesh to him and the lower the zip goes, so does Max until he’s suddenly down on his knees behind you when the dress finally falls to your feet and he’s helping you step out of it.

“Pretty” you hear him mumble as his hands come up to drag along the edges of the the baby pink lace panties you had picked out at the mall yesterday. It matches the bra you’re wearing as well, only he hasn’t noticed that yet from his position behind you.

“Max,” you whimper as his mouth plants little kisses to the globes of your ass.

“Lean over the bed” he instructs you, gently pushing on your lower back and you follow the pressure of his hand, bending at the waist until your top half is lying down on your stomach on the side of the bed while your feet are still planted on the floor with Max behind you on his knees.

“Max?” You begin to question what exactly he’s doing as he gently pushes your legs a little wider apart but then a gush of air leaves your lungs and you moan out loud when he suddenly pulls your panties to the side and buries his face in your cunt, licking and prodding at you with his tongue.

“Oh my god!”

“Mmmm, you taste so good Angel” he praises as he continues licking through your folds and reaching a little further forward to swirl the tip of his tongue around your clit and your knuckles turn white as they grip the bedspread, hanging on for dear life while Max unravels you whole. Something about him being on his knees for you is doing all kinds of things to you and you turn your head so your cheek is resting on the bed and try desperately to look behind you so you can get a view of what Max is doing but you mostly just see the top of his head and his hands on your ass.

“Baby let me turn over, wanna see” you pant, a little breathless from how close to the edge Max has brought you already. He groans into your throbbing center and places a few more kisses before he dutifully shuffles back a few inches giving you some room. You flip over onto your back, legs still dangling over the edge and push yourself up on your elbows. Max’s pupils are blown out, his hair is a wild mess and his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath and calm himself down but as always, he can’t help himself around you. He’s sitting back on his heels, hands on his thighs seemingly waiting for your permission to begin again and hell if it doesn’t ignite something even further in you.

“You look good like this baby” you mention with a grin, bringing one foot up to rub into his shoulder and his eyes close as he lets out a little whimper. He turns his head and bends it down slightly to place a kiss to the inside of your ankle and then brings a hand up to smooth up and down your calf.

“I like you on your knees for me” you begin, biting on your lower lip when his eyes reopen and stare right into yours, lust blown and wanting. “But I’d like it even better if you were naked” you add and he raises an eyebrow but otherwise says nothing before he starts to undress.

He begins by shoving his jacket down his arms and tossing it aside, then loosens his tie and starts undoing his shirt buttons one by one. His hands go to pull the tie up and over his neck but suddenly you reach a hand out in a gesture to stop.

“Wait!” You say and he freezes, tie half way over his head. “Leave that on” you instruct and you hear him whimper a little ‘fuck’ and does as he’s told, pulling it back down around his neck and then freeing himself of his dress shirt next.

“It’s been driving me crazy all night” you say in explanation. “You were a naughty little thing weren’t you, wearing that tie for me, hmm?”

“Yes Angel, I’m sorry” Max is practically squirming. Hands smoothing over his legs, desperate to be back on you but he sits otherwise still and waits for you to release him.

“Take off everything else” you instruct, lightly shoving at his shoulder with your foot before removing it and he quickly scrambles to his feet and eagerly tugs and pulls at his belt to get it free and then shoves his pants and boxers down the ground and kicks them off until he stands bare before with just the tie still loosely hanging around his neck.

You say nothing, but make a 'come hither' gesture with the crook of your finger and Max takes a step forward so he’s standing between your knees and then he bends forward, close enough that you’re able to grab the end of his tie, wrap it around your hand and pull him close so you can rise up further on your elbows and kiss him. He brings one hand down flat on the bed to hold himself up and the other rests gently on your rib cage, his thumb softly caressing back and forth as you kiss and lick into his mouth. You’re kissing for a few long moments, occasionally tugging on the tie to bring him even closer and then he moans into your mouth when your free hand reaches down and gently strokes his length from where it hangs just mere inches away from your still clothed sex and you can feel how hard and ready he is for you already. He’s practically trembling above you. If he lowered his hips just an inch or two his cock would be against you and he could take what you’ve both been waiting so long for, but you’re not quite done with him yet. The tempting vision of him stripped down and on his knees pleasing you is just too good to pass up.

“Back on the floor, my gorgeous boy” you instruct as you pull back from him slightly. “I wanna cum in this pretty mouth first” you tell him, running a fingertip along his bottom lip and he groans but then pulls it into his mouth and sucks.

“Yes, good boy” you praise him and he grins before resuming his kneeled position on the floor between your legs.

“May I?” Max asks, placing his hands on your hips and holding the elastic edges of your panties.

“Yes baby, take them off”

He wastes no time, peeling them off your legs but then does take just a quick moment to rub the material between the pads of his fingers as a smile spreads across his lips.

“They’re almost too pretty to take off” he comments, mesmerized by the little scrap of lace in his hands, but then his head turns to your glistening sex between spread legs and his eyebrow raises as he drops the panties to the floor, forgotten.

“But not as pretty as you” he adds, shuffling slightly closer on his knees and then grabs your hips with both hands and hauls you further to the edge of the bed so your ass is practically hanging off of it. You don’t have to worry about falling though because suddenly he takes both of your legs and drapes one over each of his shoulders and his hands come down to wrap up under your thighs and hold you down at your hips before he’s diving straight back in and your whole upper body practically jolts upright at the sudden burst of pleasure that rocks you.

“Mmmmmm” he moans into your sex, lapping at you and nuzzling and kissing and sucking and your hips and thighs are already trembling from his efforts.

“Yes, Max. Fuck, so good” you pant, lowered back down onto your elbows again and watching Max as he eats you out like a man starved. “Oh baby you’re so good”

That seems to spurn Max on even further and he buries his face deeper into your wet heat, moaning his appreciation for your praise into your core and sending little vibration shockwaves through you.

“Oh fuck,” your head falls back onto the bed, not able to hold yourself up anymore and your ankles cross over each other behind Max, trying to keep him as close as possible. “More, god please Max, I need more”

Ask and ye shall receive apparently because the next thing you know one of his hands leaves your hips and you’re feeling a completely new and strange sensation at your entrance. His fingertips are prodding you but there’s something else, a barrier between his fingers and your hole and it’s smooth and silky and suddenly you’re jolted back up onto your elbows as you realize he’s using his fucking tie on you.

He brushes it through your folds, smearing your juices over the area where his fingers are behind it before he’s back at your entrance and shoving two fingers inside covered by the tie and you cry out.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck! Ohhhhhh Max, oh my god, yes baby, yes”

Max groans into your cunt, licking into you with renewed enthusiasm as he feels you climbing that peak that he so desperately wants to push you over. His fingers are still working you in and out and his tie is going to be fucking ruined but it’s the last thing on his brain. He has half a mind to frame the damn thing by this point anyway. Build it its own trophy case and display it proudly on his bedroom wall over his bed.

“Baby I’m gonna cum” you whine, trembling under his hold on you as the taught thread in your lower abdomen threatens to snap. “Oh please, please” you beg, needing just a little bit more and he gives just what you need, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers curl into just the right spot and you cry out, lurching forward so you can grab the back of his head and ride his face as wave after wave releases over you until you’re completely drained and you flop back down onto your back, completely boneless and utterly spent.

Max slows down but continues softly licking and kissing and nuzzling into you, moaning his adoration for you into your still throbbing sex. He carefully pulls his fingers and the tie out of you and you let out a little groan at the loss of feeling so full of him. He begins planting kisses to the top of your mound and then insides of your thighs before he finally takes your shaking legs off his shoulders and crawls up and puts his hands under you so he can haul you further up the bed and then he collapses at your side on the bed, his hand coming to rest on your stomach and rubbing small comforting circles on it.

“Was that okay Angel?” He asks so quietly, your sweet Maxwell. Checking in even after giving you an earth shattering orgasm.

“Baby” you sigh, chest still heaving from exertion. Your brain can’t seem to formulate any kind of sentence so instead you roll onto your side to face him, grab a fistful of his tie again and kiss him, hard.

“That was incredible” you say, pulling back after a few long seconds of kissing. “But you can literally never wear this tie in public again or I’ll fucking die from embarrassment. I don’t care if you get it dry cleaned or not, this scrap of silk is never leaving this bedroom” you insist, but your tone is playful and he knows you’re far from upset at how he used it.

Max just smirks at you and then brings your hand up that’s holding his tie and places a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yes I think this one will have to retire” he teases. “It’ll be just for us” he adds with a little wink before he pulls it over his head and tosses it to the floor.

You lay there another minute, still trying to catch your breaths and then Max’s fingertips are tracing the bottom edge of your lacy pink bra and he’s smiling as he pushes himself up on one elbow to look down at you.

“Matching set” he states as he’s just now noticing anything not below your waist, a little smirk forming at his lips. “Somebody was presumptuous for a first date” he teases, tossing your own remarks back at you and you laugh, tossing your head back.

“Come here” you finally say, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you.

The kiss is soft and unhurried as you lazily stroke each other's tongues and explore mouths. One of Max’s hands starts smoothing up your side and then moves to your breast, massaging it under his large palm and you press your chest further into his touch and let out a little moan.

“Max?” You mumble between kisses.

“Hmmm?”

You break the kiss, hold his face with both your hands and look him in the eyes as you say the words that you’ve been wanting to for so long.

“Make love to me?”

Max simply nods his head once and then lowers just slightly to press one last kiss to your closed lips before he pulls back.

Wordlessly you both reposition on the bed so neither of you are at risk of falling off the edge. You settle on your back at the top of the bed by the headboard, head nestled in a sea of pillows and Max crawls over top of you. You push up slightly so you can reach behind yourself and unclasp your bra, pulling the straps down your arms and tossing it aside, wanting to feel completely unburdened when Max lowers his body onto yours.

“So beautiful” he murmurs, so softly you almost don’t even hear it, like he’s just simply overwhelmed by you.

“Sweet boy” you hum, bringing a hand up to brush through his hair.

“By the way I um… I have an I.U.D. just so you know so…” you trail off, you don’t think you need to spell out anymore what you’re telling him and he smiles, bending down to capture your lips again.

“Are you ready Angel?” He asks once he pulls back from the kiss and you nod your head eagerly.

Max pushes himself up to his knees and grabs for one of the discarded pillows on the bed and drags it towards him, tapping your hip with his hand and you lift your hips so he can place it underneath you. He repositions himself in between your legs but before he does anything else he leans down and places warm wet kisses all over your body; to each of your breasts, your sternum, your ribs, abdomen, hips, and one final kiss to your mound before he straightens back up on his knees again and you can’t help it but you’re smiling at him like an absolute fool in love.

His hands come down to rest on each of your outer thighs and he drags them up and then back down until his hands hook under you knees and he pushes your legs up so they’re bent at your knees with your feet flat on the mattress and then finally he grabs his achingly hard dick and guides it notch at your entrance.

“Um Max,” you start before he actually pushes inside you. “It’s been um… a while?” You admit sheepishly, your cheeks coloring slightly. “Will you just, start slow”

Max doesn’t answer right away, just lowers his upper body down so he can kiss you, soft and sweet and full of promise.

“Whatever you need Angel” he whispers against your lips and then presses a kiss to the tip of your nose before he raises back up just slightly, and then he guides himself inside, slowly, inch by inch and letting out a soft groan when he finally gets inside your warmth.

“Are you ok?” He asks, stopping about half way in to check with you. Your bottom lip is between your teeth but you nod your head enthusiastically. There’s a stretch for sure but it’s far from unpleasant. You want more.

“Baby you feel so good inside me, keep going” you encourage and he has to close his eyes and take a breath so he doesn’t slam his hips the rest of the way into you like he wants to when he hears words like that falling from your lips.

“Angel you’re,” he trails off for a moment, sucking a breath through his teeth as he pushes deeper inside. “God you’re so tight, feels so good”

You’re not surprised, it feels like he’s splitting you open (though in the best possible way) and you certainly weren’t lying when you said it’s been a while. You haven’t dated in an embarrassingly long time since your last ex broke your heart and you haven’t been interested in anybody until Max came into your life. But now that he’s here, there’s no one you’d rather be with.

He finally bottoms out and you release a breath you’d been holding as Max stills inside you.

“I’m ok, you can move” you assure him but he shakes his head just slightly and doesn’t move.

“Just um… I just need a second” he says and then proceeds to take a few deep slow breaths and your lips curl up into a sly smile. Maybe it’s been a while for him too and the fact that he needs to concentrate so hard on not cumming immediately does give your ego a bit of a little boost.

“My god Angel you’re so perfect” he groans before he finally pulls almost all the way out and then pushes back in and you moan, hands coming down to grip the sheets beneath you.

“Ok?” He asks and you nod frantically.

“Yes, baby keep going, I’m ok"

And he does. He pulls nearly all the way out again and slides easily back in over and over again at a slow pace until you’re freely moaning and he knows you’re past the initial stretch. He shifts slightly, pulling your legs up further so your feet are off the mattress and he’s pushing them towards you, folding you in on yourself while still pumping his hips in and out and suddenly he’s hitting deeper which each thrust with how he has you held and your hands come up to grip his biceps, fingernails digging into his skin.

“Oh god Baby, you’re so deep in me, feels so good” you’re panting and moaning and doing everything you can to chase his hips with your own.

“Yeahhhh, just like that” Max soothes, his slow thrusts gradually gaining momentum with every whine and whimper that passes your lips, encouraging him. “Fuck you feel incredible”

He pushes your legs further still until he has you practically folded in half and he’s holding himself up above you almost in a push-up stance and begins lowering himself up and down, up and down over and over again sliding in and out of you at a much faster pace now and he’s hitting you so deep it’s like he’s impaling you with his cock with each push and you’re instantly brought to the edge; writhing and moaning and shaking underneath him.

“Yes Max, right there, oh fuck, baby. Oh don’t stop”

He doesn’t. He doubles his efforts, slamming into you over and over as you cry out and dig your nails so hard into his skin that he has to grit his teeth through the pain but he fucks you through it, getting lost in the blissed out expression that comes over you when you finally hit that peak and the second your relase washes over you he has to pull out and squeeze at the base of his cock for a moment; the way your walls just clamped down on him nearly sending him over his own edge.

Your giggling in your fucked out euphoria and it causes a little huff of laughter out of Max too as he strokes his length a few times and then brings it down to push through your folds to cover him in your slick again and your hips jolt at the oversensitivity before you settle once more.

Max lowers himself onto his side, having used up much of his stamina in the last position and rearranges you again so the pillow is no longer under you and just your leg closest to him is now raised as he holds it up and he pushes back inside you before easing in and out slowly again.

“Ohhhhhhh,” you whimper, eyes closing voluntarily at the pleasure the new angle gives you. He continues going slow for now, thankfully (probably for both your sakes) because you’re still overstimulated and he wants to make himself last as long as possible.

He fucks you slowly, his forehead coming down to rest on your shoulder as he pumps his hips in and out, in and out. You feel that slow build again, deep in your abdomen as the minutes tick by and he continues his steady and deep thrusts.

"Angel you feel amazing" he murmurs against your skin. "Feels so good to be inside you"

"Oh Max" you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Baby I love having you inside me, don't stop"

Before too long your little whines and whimpers let him know you’re getting close again so he takes two fingers and and sucks them into his mouth before bringing them down to play with your clit and you lurch forward, pushing up on your elbows as another impending orgasm racks your body. Max pushes harder and faster with each thrust until he feels your walls flutter around him and whispers little words of encouragement into your ear, giving you that final push over the edge.

“Oh my god, yes, yes, yes,” you chant, delirious. It hits you as hard as the last one and you cum with a long drawn out moan as Max slows his thrusts once again.

“Fuck Angel” Max groans and suddenly he’s pulling out of you and on his knees between your legs before he lowers himself down and starts licking and mouthing at your throbbing cunt, apparently needing to give his dick a break so your night doesn’t end before he wants it to.

“Baby, oh my god, I can’t” you’re squirming below him, barely past your last peak when you feel another quickly approaching right on it’s heels. Max doesn’t let up, feeling the way your thighs lock around his head he knows your close again. He spreads your lower lips with his fingers and swirls his tongue around your clit before sucking it into his mouth and you're practically convulsing from underneath him, trying desperately to thrust up into him and chase the pressure of his tongue.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum again”

Max moans into you and then shoves three fingers inside you without warning and curls them and your resolve breaks instantly and you’re flooding his mouth and fingers with your release and he keeps moaning as he happily laps you up with long broad stripes of his tongue up you’re center until your pushing at his shoulders, the stimulation too much.

He relents, thankfully, and removes his mouth and fingers from you and crawls back up your body again until he’s laying on top of you, one arm holding himself just steady enough up so that he’s not crushing you with his weight and he leans down and kisses you soundly. You moan when you taste the evidence of your multiple orgasms on his tongue.

He keeps kissing you like there’s nothing else in the world he’d rather be doing but you know he’s got to be painfully hard by this point and in all honestly this has gone on far longer than you initially expected it to and besides that, you don't think you physically have it in you to give him another orgasm. Being your first time together and all, you certainly weren’t expecting the marathon that Max was putting you through (not that you were complaining, mind you).

“Baby” you murmur between kisses and then your hand travels between your bodies until it reaches his cock and you wrap your hand around it. He moans into your mouth at your touch and you smile into the kiss as you guide him back to your entrance.

“I won’t last” Max admits, shaking his head gently, his forehead coming to rest on yours.

“I know, let go baby”

“Fuck” he curses before pushing inside with one deep thrust and you both moan in unison. He felt beyond amazing before of course, but having him like this with his weight on top of you and kissing you tenderly as he rocks in and out of you is just everything you ever wanted it to be.

He tears his lips away from yours after a minute and sucks a breath in through his teeth as he starts pistoning into you harder and faster, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he gets close to his release.

“Yes Maxwell, cum for me sweet boy, please baby” you encourage him and that seems to do him in. He cums with a loud groan as he pushes into you a few more times, cock pulsing inside of you as he empties himself and then slumps down on top of you, breathing heavily and his heart racing against yours.

“Good boy” you whisper quietly into his hair, bringing your hands up to push through it and Max whimpers into your throat and you feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Stay inside me sweet boy, please, just a little bit. Wanna feel you” you coo and Max nods frantically against your neck. You knew he’d like that. You wrap your legs around his back and gently begin rocking your hips, doing whatever you can to keep him from softening inside you too quickly and soon he’s matching your little thrusts with his own until finally he pushes once more as deep as he can and wraps his arms around you in a tight hug for several long seconds and then he regretfully pulls out and rolls over onto his back, his cock soft and spent between his legs.

“Baby that was incredible” you tell him, snuggling up to his side and leaning down to plant a kiss to his chest.

You were incredible” he corrects and you playfully roll your eyes and swat his chest.

“Fine we’ll call it a draw” you tease before placing another kiss, this time to his shoulder.

“I’ll be right back” Max says, rolling to the edge of the bed and pulling himself up on tired legs with a groan. He wanders into the bathroom and you hear the faucet running for a few seconds before he’s back in the bedroom and sitting down beside you at your waist with a washcloth in his hands.

He brings it down between your legs and cleans you up with the warm towel and you hum your thanks to him, wrapping a hand around his upper arm. Max had to be without a doubt the most attentive lover you’ve ever had and it makes your heart swell as you watch him carefully drag the warm cloth over you and then lean down to plant a single kiss to the middle of your stomach before he rises back up to go dispose of the cloth into the laundry basket. He stops to blow out each of the candles on his way back to you, bathing the room in darkness.

“You’re so sweet to me” you sigh as he crawls into bed beside you, lifting the covers over you both.

“‘Course,” he smirks. “You’re my Angel”

“I’m glad we waited” you hum as you snuggle further into his side. “That was well worth it”

“It was everything Sweetheart, thank you” Max says, leaning his head down to kiss your forehead.

“Not bad for a first date” you giggle and Max laughs, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

You swing one leg over his and try to ignore the tingling in your overused sex as it brushes against his thigh and then drape an arm over his chest so you’re half lying on top of him and he uses the arm that’s underneath you to gently run his fingertips up and down your sides and back, wherever he can reach and his free hand grabs for your leg on his and hikes it a little higher. He smooths his hand up the back of your thigh until he reaches your ass and gently kneads the soft flesh in his hand before releasing and repeating the pattern and you hum into his chest, placing a kiss to it.

You could absolutely fall asleep like this. And within minutes, you do just that.

Taglist @boliv-jenta @suzdin @macabremads @heavennumber2 @prolix-yuy

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord fanfiction #maxwell lord x f!reader #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal characters

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