#maxwell lord imagine

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 8th

Day 8: Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die, Chastity, Sexual Competition

Max Lord x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Magic stones, ancient inscriptions, DUB-CON, compulsion to have sex, wordless consent, public sex, frantic sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of biting

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The TV guy has been hanging around for the last few days. Causing a disruption in the everyday workload as the director had pushed for a personalized tour to the CEO of Black Gold since he was promising a sizable donation to the foundation. If there was one thing that could turn your normally stalwart director into a groveling slut, it was the promise of funds. 

You hear a booming laugh and roll your eyes. Unsure of what the joke was down the hall, but you know it was Barbara that was giving him the tour so it couldn’t be that funny. Nothing against her, but she wasn’t the joking type. You look back down at your large magnifying glass, looking through it at the inscription etched into the stone that has been a source of intrigue to you over the past few days since it had arrived. 

When your name is called, you try not to get annoyed, knowing that your boss would want you to place nice. Looking up and plastering a smile on your face as you watch Barbara and the TV guy, you forget his name, walk in. 

Well, she walks. He seemingly saunters in like he owns the place. Perhaps he thinks that because he’s going to write a check, he is an owner. 

His eyes are quick, clever. Far more clever that you would imagine seeing those cheesy commercials he always has played on the tv during Jeopardy. The smile you could do without. It’s screaming slightly sleazy, put on and false in order to get what he wants. The only question is, what does Max Lord want?

Introductions are made, Barabara bouncing almost nervously as you shake the salesman’s hand. Pulling your hand away quickly and turning towards her so she can tell you what she wants. She never approaches you unless she needs something. You aren’t one of the posh, beautiful scientists she wants so desperately to be close to. 

“Can I ask a favor?” She asks, clapping her hands together and giving you a pleading look. “I have a meeting that I can’t reschedule.” Her eyes flicker over to the suit and then back to you. “Could you please finish up the tour for Mr. Lord?” “Please….” He winces. “Call me Maxwell.” He offers with a sugar sweet smile that he seems to think to be a gift. He’s not bad looking, but he would look better if he took the Sun-in out of his hair and lost the boxy shoulder pads. You were one of the few that hated the way fashion has gone. 

“I have a lot to do here.” You protest but Barbara gives you an even more pleading expression. “But…..I can finish it up.” She nearly claps in relief. “After I finish up my work.” You warn seriously. 

“Yeah….sure….” She’s bobbing her head quickly and looking over Maxwell. “That’s great. Well, I know you’ll have a great time, so I’ll just run along.” 

You ignore the flirting and flustering as Maxwell makes a slight scene at Barbara leaving, kissing her hand and making her giggle like she’s five again. Soon enough, there’s blissful silence back in your lab so you can concentrate. 

“So what are you studying?” The question comes after two blissful minutes of silence. Two minutes that you had obviously hoped would be longer. Your eyes cut up from your magnifying glass to find Maxwell looking at the stone curiously. 

“A rock.” You glibly answer, keeping your tone just as dry as you possibly can. Barely resisting the urge to smirk when his grin slides off his unfairly handsome face. 

Maybe you feel a little guilty, but it’s not enough to make you apologize as you look back down at the inscription with a frown. While your Latin was rusty, you swear this is talking about fertility. Just as you tilt the glass down more, a finger appears in front of your magnifying glass, making it look even larger than normal, showing you the grooves in his skin. “What’s-”

“No!” You cry out, knowing that the stone cannot be touched without gloves. The instructions had been very clear in the crate that the stone was packed in. “Don’t touch it!” 

Your fingers collide, both of you touching the vivid jade stone at the same time. The piece seemingly glows at the contact and both of you gasp as you snatch your hands away, knocking over the magnifying glass. 

The next few moments are nothing short of a blur of pain and confusion. Nearly blacking out until a pair of lips smash against yours in the most inelegant, needy kiss of your life. 

“Ohhhh!” Your eyes fly open, finding Maxwell’s face right in yours and his mouth opens, groaning. 

“I can’t- I need-” He doesn’t stop kissing you, his words are just cut off by the tongue sliding into his mouth. Your tongue. The feeling of him pressing against you awakening something base inside you. 

You don’t know why, but you need him. The word fertility flashing in your mind and you push it away because of the burning of your skin and the throbbing of your cunt. 

He apparently feels the same way. Something hard and pulsing starts to push against your hip as he backs you up against the table you had been working at. Nothing but fervent kisses being exchanged, and his hands start to pull at your clothes. 

You never even think to push him away. It doesn’t even cross your mind. Too busy grabbing handfuls of him and ripping open the obvious faux Gucci belt so you can rip those ridiculously baggy pants off of him. 

His hands are bigger, harder than you ever would have imagined when watching those commercials of his. Wonderful on your skin as he slides them up  your thighs under your skirt. Hot as find the edge of your panties and hooking under them to start dragging them down. 

It’s not like you’ve talked about this, but neither one of you cares. Both of you groaning when your own hand dives into his briefs and wraps around an impressive cock. He hides it well under those bulky suits. 

Both of you need each other in a way that can’t even be described. The pain flaring in your stomach drives you, squeezing and pumping his cock, pulling back the foreskin and smearing the bead of precum around the head while he pants into your mouth. 

Your name, not even spoken by him before, sounds like ambrosia as it drips from his tongue. His own fingers sliding through your folds before he is pushing you up onto the table and spreading your legs to step between. 

Your cry would draw any number of personnel if there had been anyone. It had already been late in the day, and then the meeting had drawn everyone else away, leaving your floor empty with the exception of you and Maxwell. “Max!” Your eyes widen when he pushes inside you, filling you to the hilt with a needy, frantic thrust. 

He groans again, twitching violently inside you and gripping the edge of the table behind you. Pulling his hips back and shuddering when he thrusts forward again and moans at how tight you are. 

Rocking the table with how hard he’s fucking you, you can’t do anyting but hold on and whine for him. Every piercing thrust of his cock pushing the pain away and making your cunt feel amazing. Hitting all the best spots, deep inside you and scratching an itch you didn’t know you had. 

Kisses are littered on your skin, his teeth being used far more that you ever thought possible as a man fucks into you as frantically as Maxwell does. Chasing that same goal with the urgency that is burning underneath your own skin. Both of you pulling and grabbing at each other, clothes bunched between you as you grind your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist. 

“I didn’t- fuck, it’s so good.” Maxwell rambles. “You’re so good. I can’t - it’s so- fuck.” 

You can only moan in agreement, not even coherent enough to speak right now. Your entire focus on the connection of his cock in your pussy. 

Your body is so sensitive that you are shocked by how quickly you cum. Taking you by surprise as your head falls back and your hands hold onto his broad shoulders. Cunt clenching down around him and the heat of your orgasm rushing through your body and seemingly quenching that fire that had been burning since you touched the stone only minutes before. 

“Oh fuck, oh mierda.” He groans, clenching his teeth and shouting when he thrusts once more, pulsing heavily inside you as he paints your womb with his seed in hot spurts. Panting and whining as he rocks his hips to push every drop into your quivering cunt until he’s spent and collapsing against you and both of you drop to the table top. 

Gasping for air, you try to catch your breath as you roll your head to the side and feel Max nuzzle against your neck, his own breath still undstead. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of the stone. “What the fuck was that?” You ask, bewildered and almost giggly as you look at the fertility stone that had compelled both of you to fuck like wild animals in your lab. 

“I don’t know.” He pants. “But I might need a minute if we do it again.” 

Breaking into a giggle, your hand slides up to pet the hair that you had been snorting at earlier. Maybe Max Lord wasn’t soooo bad. “Hell of a tour, huh?” 

“Fuck.” He chuckles, still not moving on top of you and snuggling into you even more when your fingers scratch his scalp. “The best.” 

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x f!reader #maxwell lord smut #maxwell lord imagine #maxwell lord fanfiction #max lord x reader #max lord x you #max lord x f!reader #max lord smut #max lord imagine #max lord fanfiction #max lord ww84

[palioom]

anything you want

summary: needy and desperate for you all day, you promise maxwell to help him with his frustrations. but it's a little different from what he had in mind.

pairing: subby!maxwell lord x f!reader word count: 2.9k warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n ; some swearing, unprotected p in v, handcuffs, sub!maxwell; teasing, some edging, oral (m & f receiving); deepthroating; face sitting; cowgirl; implied cockwarming a/n: this is my first time writing a subby male character, enjoy!

• masterlist •

“My love, please.” He moaned, arms flexing as he pulled against the restraints on his handcuffs. “Don’t you think I have- ah, suffered enough?”

She shook her head slowly, wide grin on her face as she attached her lips to his neck, teasing her teeth along his skin.

“I’m far from done with you, Max.” She purred, feeling him shiver and his hips jerk up. “You’ve been so desperate for me all day, you can wait just a little longer.”

Maxwell swallowed hard, closing his eyes.

Why had he said yes to this?

To have her handcuff him to the headboard, naked and hard as a rock while she teased and teased and teased him endlessly.

He was insane, but God, it felt good.

“I want you to beg for me, baby.” She said, her fingers running down his soft stomach, feeling the hair that started just below his navel. His muscles jumped at her touch, making her smirk against his skin, kissing up to his ear.

The little sounds he made, switching between grunting and whimpering when her hand came too close to his cock, they were intoxicating to her.

“Tell me what you need, Maxwell, and you’ll get it.”

Biting into his earlobe, she felt how he shivered, heard the groan hitching on his breath. Her hand wandered lower, fingertips just inches away from where he needed her most right now.

“My darling-” His words died in his throat when she kissed the underside of his jaw, the rattling of the handcuffs sounding from above her.

“You’re so sensitive.” She giggled, kissing her way up until she found his mouth, her hands cradling his face as she straddled him, careful not to touch his dick just yet.

No, he had to earn that.

And even if he struggled to right now, she knew that he would be very happy about it again later.

“Would you be so kind as to touch me?” He asked between her kisses, shifting underneath her, trying to get something, anything. “Please, my dear.”

She placed a kiss on his beautiful, big nose before kissing down his cheek to his jaw again, her hands on his chest as she inched further down.

“A start.” She said, biting the skin at the crook of his neck, grinning at the choked sound that left him. “But you can do better, baby.”

Again, the sound of metal against metal, the handcuffs above him as he breathed in deeply.

“My dear, please.” He said, voice strained as she travelled down, her hands running over his sides. It was adorable how he tried. “Please, touch me.”

“I am, baby.” She laughed, kissing his stomach, looking up at him. His eyes followed her intently, as she scooted back, careful not to touch his dick. “Or ain’t I?”

“You know what I mean.” He breathed, hips shifting when she kissed his happy trail, staying there as she peppered his abdomen with bites and kisses. “Please.”

“But I don’t.” She replied. 

Smiling up at him still, all innocent.

God, she was beautiful, even when she teased.

Maybe even more beautiful because she teased.

“Tell me exactly what you need, pretty boy.”

She resumed kissing him, below his navel, over to his hip bones, but never further down.

He squirmed at the name, craning his head.

Maxwell could try and sit this out, but he had wanted her all day already. At this point, it was starting to hurt, his leaking cock so close to her mouth as it throbbed, aching for her attention.

“I want your mouth on me, darling.” He spoke, watching as she kissed lower with a grin, his muscles flexing. “I want your tongue around my- around my dick, please, my dear. Please.”

She hummed, placing a kiss against the base of it, the neatly trimmed hair tickling her as it rested lightly against her cheek.

Just looking up at him for a moment, watching his reaction.

“What else do you need?” She asked, flattening her tongue against the underside of his cock, listening to his whimpers, how they became louder when the tip of her tongue ran over the slit, tasting the precum. 

He looked hot, struggling against the restraints like this, muscles in his arms flexing, the vein on his neck popping out as he set his jaw.

The need and desperation in his eyes as he knew she could stop just as quickly as she had started if he made one wrong move.

“I want to be inside of you.” He breathed, voice thin. This really took all of his strength, his dick twitching as she wrapped a hand around the base, just lightly squeezing.

The thought of her mouth around him was almost enough to make him cum, so worked up and sensitive.

She let the nails of her free hand roam over his hip, seeing the goosebumps appear on his skin, kissing the tip of his dick.

“Where?” She teased, pressing kisses along his cock, all the way down until she licked a stripe up again, repeating her earlier motion. “Say it, I wanna hear you.”

“In- Inside your pussy- Fuck.” His voice broke when she took him in her mouth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his hips jerking up.

Still struggling against the restraints, his fingers flexing open and closed. The desperation on his face now clear as daylight.

Brows furrowed together, lips slightly parted. His hair a mess.

She hummed around him, the vibration only making him whimper more. Taking him deeper, hollowing her cheeks as her hand worked on what she couldn’t fit.

“Good job, Max.” She giggled when she let go of him for a moment, her hand splaying over his abdomen to keep his hips from moving. “Now beg me a little more while I suck your cock and I’ll give you all you asked for. Be nice and vocal for me, yeah?”

He cursed under his breath, head thrown back for a moment before he looked at her, saw how she took him into his mouth, how her lips stretched around his dick. 

How she took him deeper, all the way until her nose pressed against his abdomen and her throat tightened around him for a moment.

All before she came up again for air, a small string of spit connecting her lips and his cock.

The moan that left him was music to her ears, as was his begging.

“Baby, please. Do that again, please.” He whimpered, seeing her smirk as she closed her mouth around him again, the hand not on his stomach now moving to his balls. “You’re so gorgeous- Fuck, I need you, dear.”

His balls twitched in her hand as she took him as deep as she could again, staying there as she felt the vein at the underside of his cock throb against her tongue.

Damn, he was close.

It burned in her throat, but seeing him lose composure, his hips bucking up into her mouth, his arms fighting against the handcuffs, all that was enough to make up for it.

“You’re so pretty when you’re struggling, Maxwell.” She said with a wide grin when she came up again, chuckling when his hips jerked up into nothing. 

“Dear, please let me-” He was too close to the edge, looking at her lips, seeing his cock twitch right below them.

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Let you what?” She asked, drawing her hand away from his balls, crawling over his body. 

When she was level with his head, she caressed his cheek, a little pout of mock concern on her face.

“Talk to me, baby, what do you need?” She asked before kissing him deeply, using his moan to slip her tongue into his mouth.

It took a couple of seconds before he caved. “Let me cum in your mouth, please.”

God, he sounded desperate. How adorable.

“You’d love that, hm?” She whispered, moving back again, wrapping her hand around his cock, giving him a few gentle pumps but stopping right before he got too close.

“Yes, please, darling.” He hissed, brows furrowed and his eyes pleading. The way she built him up just to let him fall again was driving him insane.

“You plead so nicely.” 

With that, she was on him again, bobbing her head as she swirled her tongue around him. And it didn’t take long before his orgasm hit him, coming with a strangled moan as she took him deeper, humming when she felt the salty taste fill her mouth.

The sound of the handcuffs was a constant background noise, and she watched his muscles flex against them, how he ground his teeth together, the way his hips squirmed and pushed up into her mouth as he continued pulsing.

Sweat had built up on his forehead and as he calmed down slowly, small pants left him, looking at her as she lifted her mouth off his softening dick, crawling over him again.

Smiling, she pressed a lazy kiss to his lips, his whole being now less tense that he had been able to let go of some of the frustration. Though, she could still feel some leftover tension.

“Feeling better?” She cooed, brushing back some of his blonde hair, cupping his cheek. “You did so well, baby.”

He groaned, knowing just by her voice that this hadn’t been all.

“Better, but-”

She shook her head. “You’re not done, I know you’re still all tense and worked up and as a good girlfriend I have to help you, right?”

Grinning, she sat up, just looking at him for a moment, seeing how the wheels in his head turned.

She wasn’t quite sure if he was excited or scared.

“You said you wanted my pussy, didn’t you, Maxwell?” She purred, hands roaming over his broad shoulders.

He nodded, swallowing hard, gaze jumping down to where she was already dripping wet, hovering over his stomach.

“What if you eat me out until you’re ready again, baby?” The answer was clear to her already, knowing he would never say no. He loved eating her out, and not being able to be in control might just excite him a little more. “You’d love that, right?”

Maxwell nodded again, this time licking his lips, once again forgetting his wrists were cuffed to the bed, just wanting to touch her.

“Scoot down a little more, let me ride your face.”

His eyes widened but he didn’t have to be told twice, moving down as well as the cuffs allowed, then watching her as she positioned herself over his face.

Sinking down, she moaned when she felt his eager tongue against her, his nose bumping against her clit as he lapped at her. 

One hand gripped his hair, holding him in place as her hips rocked back and forth, the other on the headboard to give her something to hold on to.

“Yes, like that, Max.” She breathed, head thrown back, biting her lip.

God, was he fucking talented at this, sucking on her clit when she gave him the chance before using his tongue to fuck into her again. 

Building her up quickly, making her legs shake as she finally looked down at him, tightening the grip on his hair as the rhythm of her hips became more erratic.

“You’re so good, fuck.” She moaned, taking a glance behind her and seeing his dick already hardening again. “And you’re getting so excited from this, aren’t you?”

He hummed into her and the vibrations let her topple over, whimpering but bracing herself on the headboard.

Almost there, just a little more.

“Max- Please.”

Again he took her clit into his mouth and sucked hard, looking up at her as her breath hitched when her orgasm hit her. Moaning loudly, her hips bucked against his face, and he was quick to lap up everything she gave him, groaning against her.

She truly was beautiful like this, biting her lip and her eyes screwed shut in ecstasy as she rode out the waves on him.

Gathering her breath, she moved off of him, seeing his chin glistening and giggling at the sight, Maxwell breathing hard as well as he licked his lips.

“You’re always so good to me.” She breathed, smoothing back his hair again, then letting the knuckle of one finger run down his cheek. “And looks like you’re ready for your reward, hm?”

Even he had to chuckle at that.

Reward.

“Yes, please, darling.” He said, showing he had learned. His dark eyes following her hips as she moved. “Please, I need you.”

She shifted back, wrapping one hand around his hard cock and guiding it against her pussy, flinching a little as the head rubbed against her clit, still overly sensitive.

“You sound so sweet when you beg me.”

She sank down on him with a groan, bracing herself on his chest as she felt him stretch her open, hearing how he moaned at her squeezing him.

“But you sound better when I’m fucking you.”

Slowly she began to roll her hips, moaning when he brushed up against that sensitive spot inside her.

His eyes went back and forth between her breasts as they bounced, just wanting to reach out and touch them, and his dick sliding in and out of her. A strangled moan left him at the sight, his hips pushing up against her.

“Ah-ah, stop squirming, Max.” She said, stopping her hips for a moment even if she deprived herself. “I’m fucking you, baby, not you me.”

An annoyed and frustrated sigh left Maxwell, trying to keep still as she resumed her pace, going a little faster.

“Let me touch you, dear, please give me that.” He begged, his arms beginning to hurt from the strain as he kept moving them. “Dear, please.”

She smiled, breathless laughter leaving her as she sat up more straight, her fingertips barely touching his chest now. Head thrown back.

How sweet he could beg.

“What do you wanna touch, Max?” She asked, squeezing him particularly hard to torture him, relishing in his whimper and moan. “C’mon, tell me.”

“Fuck- I want to touch your breasts, darling.” He rushed his words, feeling so sensitive as she gripped him tight. “They’re so perfect, please.”

She bit her lip, thinking about it for a moment as she sped up her movements on top of him.

“No.” 

The whine that came from him was more than delicious, and she watched as he squirmed in frustration below her, trying to keep his hips still.

A quiet laugh slipped past her lips.

He looked so good, all flushed and desperate below her. This was something to do more often, for sure.

“Darling, please-”

Yes, he was close, just as she was.

Bending down, she captured his lips with hers, her hand wandering down between them, finding her clit.

“Bet you’d love to do that, huh?” She whispered against his lips with a smile. “Rub my clit? Oh, darling.”

Her tongue slipped into his mouth, swallowing his soft noises.

She kept rubbing tight circles into her clit, when she suddenly clamped around him, moaning loudly and breaking the kiss as she shook on top of him. There was the vague feeling of his cock twitching inside her, filling her up as he moaned and whimpered.

Trying to break free from the handcuffs.

She helped him ride out his orgasm, then slowly stopped, staying where she was on top of him, just lazily kissing him.

“You’ve done so well for me, Max.” Her voice was a whisper as she reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the small key before unlocking the handcuffs around his wrists, letting them dangle from the headboard.

Immediately his arms were around her middle, roaming over her back and just feeling her as they kissed.

“How do you feel?” She asked, wanting to make sure this hadn’t been too much for him. “Everything okay?”

She brushed his hair back, expression soft now as she looked at him.

“Everything’s perfect.” He sighed, cradling her cheeks now. “Thank you, love.”

While it had been frustrating, he enjoyed giving control over to her, not even being able to touch her. It was exciting and different.

“Good.” She smiled, kissing his nose softly. “You were really needy, baby.”

He only chuckled, pulling her closer.

“You think you can stay like this a little longer?” He asked quietly, enjoying how she felt around him, her warmth. 

It was different, but comforting.

“Sure, baby.”

She kissed him again before resting her head against his shoulder with a sigh, hearing him groan as she shifted a little to get comfortable.

“Anything you want, Maxwell.”

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #maywell lord smut #maxwell lord imagine #wonder woman 84 #wonder woman #pedro pascal #fic #fan fic #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing

[muldermuse]

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

#my fics #masterlist #Fox Mulder #fox mulder fanfic #Fox #fox mulder fanfiction #fox mulder smut #fox mulder fluff #fox mulder imagine #agent mulder #txf #the x files #The X Files Fanfiction #The X Files Fanfic #the x files fluff #the x files hc #david duchovny #mulder #maxwell lord #maxwell lord imagine #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord smut #maxwell lord fluff #ww84 #Wonder Woman #wonder woman 1984 #tuwomt #Javi Gutierrez #javi gutiérrez x reader

[tropes-and-tales]

Hiiiii! I would like to request <<person b trying to cook person a's fav dish>> with Max Lord please. I can see that flashback scene in WW84 with his business Blacc Gold Cooperative, trying to make everything perfect. Get well soon! Thanks so much!!

A rare Max Lord ask in the inbox!

Maxwell Lord knows he’s worthless.

He hides those feelings underneath a glib façade, a blustering bravado.  He talks a good game.  He schmoozes with the best of them.  And yet, when he goes to sleep each night, he knows that he’s nobody special.  He’s nobody of substance; he’s just an empty shell in a slick suit.

And if he was nobody before the Dreamstone, before Black Gold went bankrupt, then what is he now?  

He’s less than nobody now.

He lives in a shitty apartment in Baltimore, and he works a shitty job in a grey cubicle.  He sees his son every other weekend.  His nice cars, his private plane, his fancy suits and giant mansion?  All gone.  

Despite it all, he found you:  his neighbor in his shitty apartment complex, a sweet, gorgeous woman who teaches at the nearby university.  You know who he is, what he’s done…and you still seem to like him.  You haven’t broken up with him yet.

Which is why he’s struggling right now.  It’s your birthday, and the old Max would have taken you on a shopping trip in New York, or flown you to Paris, or taken you out to the most exclusive restaurant on the eastern seaboard.  New Max doesn’t have that option, so he tries his best and plans an entire evening in.

The plan?  Cook your favorite meal.  Use your favorite flowers as a centerpiece.  Open a bottle of your favorite wine.  Then watch your favorite movie on VHS before taking you to bed.  It’s all supposed to be a surprise, but when you walk through the door that evening, the plan is in shambles.

Your favorite meal is a charred mess smoking in the sink.  Your favorite flowers—wildflowers he picked along the river—are limp and already shedding pedals.  He punched through the cork in your wine and ruined it.  And Blockbuster was out of their only copy of “All About Eve.”

When you walk through the door that evening, you find Max sitting on the floor of your kitchen, his head in his hands.

He waits for you to break up with him.  He waits for the words—stupid, worthless—to fall from your mouth the way they’ve fallen from everyone else’s mouths.  He waits for cruel laughter at his pitiful attempt to make your birthday special despite having no money, no talent.  It’s just like those pathetic early days with Black Gold, how hopeful and naïve he’d been, how stupid—

“This seat taken?” you ask quietly, and you don’t wait for him to respond before you sink down onto the linoleum beside him.  

“Rough day?” you ask, and your voice is still quiet, but you’re right beside him.  A beat later and he feels it—your hand brushing his hair away from his face, then a gentle press of your lips to his temple.  Then you settle your head against his shoulder and just…sit.  You just sit with him, neither of you speaking for a long moment.

“Just wanted to make it special for you,” he finally says, and his voice is rough with emotion.  Frustration. Sadness.  Everything bubbling up at once, everything he’s pushed down…it’s all threatening to come out now.

“Who says it isn’t special?”

He scoffs, gestures helplessly around you.  

“You know, my last boyfriend never even thought to make me dinner for my birthday.  So, if I say it’s the thought that counts…that’s the truth,” you tell him.

“The thought means nothing,” he snaps.  “It’s action, results…thoughts are worthless.”

This should make you break up with him too:  him getting snippy and edging against an argument.  But you don’t rise to the bait.  You settle your head against his shoulder again, and you tell him a story about your childhood, how your mother had been in the hospital for your eighth birthday, how your father was away for work.  How it seemed that no one remembered your special day until a girl in your neighborhood—older than you, far cooler than you—saw you crying on your front porch.

“She was a high schooler,” you explain softly.  “Literally the coolest girl in the neighborhood.  She dressed like Stevie Nicks and had a voice like Blondie.  I was just a little dork that no one noticed, but she did.  She was driving past in her beat-to-shit Beetle and saw me sitting alone and crying, and you know what she did?”

“What?”

“She asked me what was wrong, and when I told her, she drove away.”

Max scoffs again.  That sounds right to him.  The world is a cruel place.

“And then ten minutes later, she came back,” you continue.  “She went to Dairy Queen and got me a banana split.  Remember those giant banana splits they used to make?  She bought one and sat on my porch and we ate it together.  She didn’t have a candle, so she held up her lighter and made me blow it out.”

“That’s really sweet,” he tells you, begrudgingly.

You shift your head from his shoulder and you reach out, grip his chin lightly.  You turn his face and make him look at you.

“It’s the thought that counts, Max,” you say, and your voice is more stern now.  “Being seen?  Being remembered?  That means more than any gift or whatever is smoldering right now in the sink.” 

“It’s a soufflé.  Or was.”  As bad as he feels, he can’t help but smile at you.

You roll your eyes.  “Why on earth would you try to bake me a soufflé?  You can barely boil water.”

“I thought—” he starts, and then he catches himself, realizes what he’s saying.  You catch it too, and you grin back at him.

“See?  You thought of me.  You see me.  That’s all I need from you.”

He wants to say that you deserve so much more—diamonds and designer dresses and expensive purses and luxurious trips to exotic locales—but you don’t let him reply.  You lean forward and kiss him, and the feeling of your mouth on his does what it always does:  it pushes the anxious thoughts away, makes the self-doubt melt under the ardor with which you kiss him.

“Now c’mon,” you say once you break away from him.  You stand up and offer your hand, and you help him stand too.  “There’s a Dairy Queen three blocks from here.  You’re buying me a banana split, and you’re gonna eat the pineapple bits because I hate pineapple.”

#ask game #max lord #maxwell lord #maxwell lord imagine #maxwell lord x reader #wonder woman 1984 #tropes and tales

[dyns33]

Flufftober 24 - Wonder woman 1984

Maxwell Lord x Reader

Everyone was convinced that Maxwell Lord loved Halloween.

After all, Halloween was the most American holiday, one of the most capitalist, which was very much like his job.

Some people who were pretending to be what they were not, who were going through the streets one by one, knocking on all the doors asking for goods to prevent something bad from happening.

Of course, Maxwell didn't like his job that much. He was not always proud to lie, but he did his best to satisfy his customers, his employees and his investors.

Every year he made the joke of showing up at work in exactly the same outfit as usual, stating that he was dressed up as a corrupt salesman who had a gold watch, two houses and a yacht.

He had none of that. He was barely able to pay his bills at the end of the month. But nobody knew that.

Except Y/N.

Even if he had done his best to hide his disastrous financial situation from her when they had met, wanting to impress and seduce her, the young woman was not stupid. It hadn't taken her long to notice that he always wore the same clothes, that he missed certain meals and that he panicked as soon as she asked him if she could come to his place.

           "Max, you know I don't give a damn about your salary."

           "You say that, and you're lovely, and I'm sure you really don't think it's important, but in a few months when I can't buy you flowers on every date or take you to the restaurant, or..."

           "Max." she repeated, taking his face in her hands. "I don't need flowers or restaurants. I don't like you for your money."

           "... It's true that I'm not bad. I'm even good. But I could be better !"

           "Yes, you could be less materialistic." he said, kissing him on the nose.

It was remembering that exchange that Y/N decorated Maxwell's office, expecting him to arrive with pockets full of candy. Even though she kept telling him that he shouldn't waste his money on trivial things, he insisted on giving lots of things to people he met. In return, he was sure to receive their love and admiration.

He really didn't seem to believe this was possible if he was just being himself. It couldn't be enough for people to like him, for Y/N to like him, or for Alistair to like him.

This was the other reason why Maxwell loved Halloween. It was the perfect time to spend time with his son, making him laugh, his eyes sparkling with happiness. Those of the father too, who had remained a big child on the inside, despite his need to be seen as a successful businessman by his peers.

It was a real surprise to see him arrive like every day, displaying his forced smile which barely hid his discomfort, greeting her with a quick kiss before sitting down behind his desk.

           "Oh, you put up the Halloween decorations. I forgot it was soon, it's beautiful sweetie."

           "You can't have forgotten, you love this party."

           "Ah, yes, it's true, it's a great party, I really like this party."

Y/N gave him a long look, but he didn't turn to her, avoiding her eyes and continuing to pretend to work, giggling nervously, using way too many happy expressions to sound sincere.

           "Max. What's going on ?"

           "... I don't have enough money to throw a Halloween party this year."

           "It's not a problem."

           "I... I'm not going to have Alistair this year." he added, biting his lip to keep from crying.

           "What ?! But I thought you were okay with him going to his mom's house for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and you had him for Halloween and New Years."

           "It was what was planned, but in the end his mom changed her mind. She says she's never gone candy hunting with him, so it's her turn, and I'll have Christmas. This isn't so bad, it's good, Christmas, I'm going to save up to buy him all the presents he wants."

           "He just wants to spend time with you."

           "Of course. In two months. He will have grown a lot, it may not be a good idea to buy him a bike, it will be too small for him when he comes."

           "Max."

           "Video games, maybe ? Kids like it, I think. Comics. A horse ! Some..."

           "Max."

           "... I miss him." he muttered, starting to sob. "I would like to see him more often. And... Halloween was our thing."

Y/N immediately hugged him, knowing that wouldn't be enough to comfort him. Maxwell may not have been the perfect father, but he loved his son more than anything. He knew he couldn't see him all the time, he also had to be with his mother a bit, and he couldn't suggest that they do things together, because they were bound to end up arguing, in front of the boy, which was not a good idea.

If he liked Halloween a little, it was only because he could see his son, and that wasn't possible this year.

           "I can remove the decorations if you want."

           "No, no. I don't want to prevent the others from having fun. We can even dress up and go out if you want. Or stay at home watching bad horror movies. We... We do this with Alistair, normally, after the candy hunt."

To not sadden him further, Y/N replied that they had time to think about it, before going to get him a coffee.

As soon as his back was turned, she gradually removed the decorations, to prevent him from getting depressed every time he saw them, while getting ready for the big night.

When it came, being very quiet, Maxwell agreed to put on a ridiculous turtle disguise, while Y/N was dressed as a silly rabbit, and to remain quietly in the chocolate dining room in front of Coraline, after the children had finished ringing their doorbell.

           "It's not a bad movie." he commented as he quickly ate the chocolates. "Alistair likes it."

           "I know." Y/N said mischievously, putting the dvd on stop after looking at the time. "I have a surprise for you."

Then there was a noise in the hall, someone running and a little lion jumping on the couch between them.

           "Daddy !"

           "Alistair ?!"

As he hugged his son, surprised to see him, Y/N quickly went to collect the kid's things and thank his mother, who had agreed to drop him off after the candy hunt. Even though she didn't love Max anymore, she admitted that he wasn't a bad parent, so they could both have a Halloween party with him. She had had the first part, he could watch a movie with him, and reassure him all night if he was scared.

           "Oh, honey, thank you, thank you, thank you !" Maxwell repeated when she came back into the living room.

           "You are the best, Y/N !"

This made her laugh, as they both hugged her before watching the movie. Alistair asserted that he would never go into the world of buttons, with the other parents, because his dad and his second mum were already great. His mum wasn't bad either.

Max tried not to cry with joy.

However, he still didn't understand the message and decided that his son should really have as many toys as possible for Christmas, despite all the patience and gentleness of Y/N to make him understand that it was absolutely not necessary.

#wonder woman 1984 #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord fanfiction #maxwell lord imagine #flufftober 2022

[jpbpxma]

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)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal drabble #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña #joel miller #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal writing #pedro pascal angst #dave york #marcus pike #javi gutierrez #dieter bravo #lucien flores #oberyn martell #the mandalorian #din djarin #shane dio morrissey #narcos smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut #maxwell lord #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal headcanon #requests

[pascalsbby]

a long museum, walk-around-and-fall-even-deeper typa day

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal edit #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #imagine #oneshot #joel miller #tlou #javier gutierrez #javier peña #maxwell lord

[boliv-jenta]

When you are bored and honry with a mild Canva addiction.

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character imagines #din djarin #maxwell lord #javi gutierrez #smutty imagines #lazy sunday

[penciltopbear]

Hey max enjoyers what's his best outfit. I know one of you has a folder somewhere of screenshots of all of his outfits don't lie to me

#dont ask why i need it. mind your business #literally i always immediately think of the brown suit he wore when beetle stabbed him but hes got to have a better outfit than that #do NOT say the black tshirt #maxwell lord #i literally almost forgot to tag this with his name. imagine #if i dont get any responses i will go through all of jli myself im not above that. however i dont want to

[absurdthirst]

The Election {Max Lord x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: People being assholes, comments about physical appearance, politicians, public sex, protected sex, public scandal

Comments: Meeting Senator Max Lord in the diner where you work one night leads to a very unusual arrangement. Sex behind the building. Changing both of your lives in a very real way. 

A/N: Thot based off this filthy gif but is no way representative of the reader. 

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers​

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You sigh, wiping down the table after the teenagers had effectively thrown every single fry on the floor and squirted ketchup all over the table. You had told them to stop but they just laughed at you before they left. They didn’t leave a tip. You toss the dirty rag into the bowl in the kitchen, leaning against the counter just beside the window that looks out into the diner. “You’ll never guess who just sat down in your section.” Sally says, appearing through the swinging door, and you frown, turning your head to look into your section. 

“Who’s that?” You frown. 

“Senator Maxwell Lord. He’s running for re-election.” Sally declares and you scoff, adjusting your apron. 

“I don’t follow politics.” 

Sally sighs, “you should. He really is dreamy. Single dad too. It’s hot. A powerful man.” 

You snort, “sounds like you should go serve him.” 

Sally shakes her head, “no. Hopefully he tips well. You need it more than me. Go.” She orders and you push on the door to make your way over to your section, approaching the Senator sitting at the table.

Max sighs and looks down at the menu, the selection here a lot better than the greasy spoons he has been visiting while he’s been on the campaign trail. Bypassing the burgers because he didn’t want to have anyone, mainly the man sitting opposite him, commenting about the cholesterol or how unhealthy he was eating. The California grilled chicken sandwich looks good but he damn sure is going to get the fries. “Now we have a campaign stop tomorrow morning and we need to make sure that you make an appearance at the children’s hospital. Kiss a few sick kids, make a donation that is in full view of the cameras.” 

Max rolls his eyes at his campaign manager, shaking his head at how callous he sounds, visiting sick kids for political visibility. “No.” He tells him. “I will donate privately and you can photograph me going into the hospital but if the parents don’t want their kids photos taken, that’s it.” He warns the overeager man. “No persuading them. Those kids are sick and shouldn’t be exploited for votes.” 

You walk over, brushing down your apron, and you pull your notepad out, grabbing the pen from behind your ear. “Good afternoon.” You tell the two men your name before asking what they want to drink. “Diet Coke.” Both men say and you nod, “no problem. I’ll be right back with those and then I’ll take your order.” The dark eyes of the senator focus on you and you find it a little hard to breathe with how handsome he is. Clearly well groomed with his expensive suit and watch that costs more than your car to appear in charge and ready to lead. A true politician.

Watching you walk away, Max ignores the assessing hum of the other man as he admires the curve of your ass. It’s been a long time since he’s really noticed a woman. First he was going through his divorce and then it was lack of availability. Anyone around him was off limits, he wasn’t going to be that kind of politician. No matter what, he didn’t want a sex scandal undermining the kind of change he was trying to bring about.

You bring the drinks back, setting them down and ignoring the appraising look from the man in the blue suit. The kind brown eyes are deceptive considering his career in politics. “What can I get you to eat?” You ask. 

“Are you on the menu?” The blue suit man winks and you offer him a tight smile. 

“No. I am not. Only food available in a diner. I can tell you the specials though.”

He’s already decided what he wants but he smiles at you, the charming one that he uses on the campaign trail set aside for one that is grateful and almost hesitant. “Please.” He just wants to hear you talk, enjoying the way your voice sounds. “Your specials. What you would eat here.”

You are a little taken back, “oh, okay. Um, the specials are a double cheeseburger with bacon and a fried egg served with fries. We also have a meatloaf with mashed potatoes and a red wine jus. I could go with the burger.” You tell the senator with a wink.

He gives you a slow smile, enjoying the butterflies that erupt in his stomach at your playful wink. “Then I’ll have the burger, no mayo please.” He asks, “but I wouldn’t mind extra ketchup.” He winks back at you just as playfully. 

You offer him a soft smile, sensing how charismatic he is, and you write down his order just as his companion says, “I’ll have the grilled chicken salad. Maxwell. You shouldn’t have the burger. You need to watch your weight. Maybe the waitress should too.” His blue eyes look at you, and your jaw drops. 

“Excuse me?” You balk. 

“Just sayin’ you might want to cut out the burgers and maybe get a boob job. Might get you out of this shithole diner.” He shrugs. 

You scoff, “I’ll put your order in and maybe I can find the number of a dick extension doctor. You seem like you need one.” You snort, spinning on your heel to head into the kitchen, absolutely fuming at the audacity of the man.

“Jackson.” Max shakes his head at his campaign manager and frowns. “What the hell are you doing?” He huffs. “That was completely uncalled for, you- you know what?” He leans back and stares at the man. “Go back to the bus and make sure my speech is ready for tomorrow. I’ll get your food to go and bring it back to you.” Jackson huffs and argues with him for a few minutes but Max is adamant and the other man shuffles out of the restaurant. 

You come back with the plates, still annoyed at the prick in the suit. “Where’s your friend? In the bathroom looking at himself in the mirror?” You ask, setting the senator’s burger down in front of him before you slam the chicken salad down on the table.

“He’s - he’s not my friend.” Max shuffles slightly and bites his lip. “I want to apologize for him, he’s my campaign manager and was completely out of line.” He apologizes. “What he said was wrong, you don’t need to lose weight, or a boob job.” He flushes when he realizes what he said and flusters. “I- I mean…You are perfect - perfectly fine just the way you are.” 

You fluster at his words, his dark eyes are kind and you know you’re going to look him up when your shift ends. “Uh, thank you. Ketchup is over there.” You point at the bottle, “and I can pack up the salad for your…campaign manager. I just - I hope you don’t have the same morals as him. Especially if you’re gonna be representing this state.” You tilt your head.

“Well, I’ve already been representing the state, but I hope to continue to do so.” He admits. “But no, I don’t have the same morals as he does. I want to be honest and transparent with what I can do for my constituents and what I hope to accomplish for our state.”

You bite your lip, “I- I don’t really follow politics. I didn’t - I didn’t know who you were until my coworker told me.” Your confession has you glancing around the diner. “I’m just saying you might want a new campaign manager. One who isn’t an asshole.”

Max chuckles and leans back in the booth, throwing his arm along the back as he appraises you, enjoying how you speak your mind. “You know any good ones?” He asks, actually delighted you didn’t know who he was or have ten thousand questions that he needed to carefully answer so he wasn’t misquoted. “I wish we could just skip all the b.s. and just run off our principles.” 

You chuckle, “unfortunately my Rolodex of campaign managers is empty. Surely the world would be a better place if politicians just told the truth? Although I doubt the population wants to hear it. I just don’t get involved in politics, I have too much of my own b.s going on to care.” You tell him honestly, “I’ll let you eat your meal.” You realize he hasn’t touched his burger.

“Again, I’m sorry he was an ass.” He tells you as he reaches for the bottle of ketchup. “The burger looks delicious and I’m sure you are busy enough without taking up more of your time.” He knows you have other tables, he actually enjoys that he isn’t special. Right now he is just a patron eating a burger. 

You nod, walking away from him and you can feel his eyes on you. “Sooo how is the senator? Think he’s gonna leave a big tip?” Sally asks, and you chuckle. 

“No. I- he’s…sweet. Not what I expected. His campaign manager is a dick but he’s nice. He seems like he actually wants to do some good.” You say as you lean against the counter and Sally raises her eyebrows. 

“A politician who seems nice? Alert the media.” She jokes.

It’s rare that he isn’t wolfing down his food or having a working dinner. So it’s honestly a treat to be able to take his time and eat. He can’t help but watch you though. His eyes find you around the diner as he watches you go about your tasks, refilling drinks and serving customers. You are graceful and quite frankly beautiful. It’s been a long time since he’s met a woman so pretty and he’s honestly finding it hard to look away from you. 

You eventually come back around to grab Max’s plate, taking it before you look down at him. “Looks like you enjoyed it.” You tease, glancing at the empty plate. He blushes a little and you think it’s cute. He’s cute. Sally said his wife had divorced him, too focused on her own career to go on the road with him.

“I did.” He nods and looks around. “I will have to bring Alistair here. My son.” He clarifies with a small smile as he thinks about the boy. “He loves a good cheeseburger and I spotted milkshakes on the menu.” He chuckles. “He would want a double chocolate.” 

You smile, “you’ll have to bring him by. Cheeseburger and chocolate shake.” You tap your head, “I’ll try and remember in case you come back. Here’s your check.” You tell him, setting it down. “There’s no rush. Your…campaign managers salad has been wrapped up. I’ll give it to you when you leave.”

The bill is reasonable, and he wants to make sure that he leaves a good tip, especially because you had to deal with Jackson’s bullshit. Max digs out his wallet and slides the bills under the check and stands. Catching your attention with a smile. “I’ll take that box for him, even if he deserves to starve.” He jokes and gives you a tiny wink.

You nod, grabbing the takeout box with the salad from the counter. “Hope he doesn’t choke on the lettuce.” You snort flippantly. 

Max offers you a wry smile, “knowing him he won’t eat it and will have a cigarette instead.” 

You roll your eyes, “of course. Well…good luck Senator Lord.” You offer him a smile and he nods, “thank you.” You watch him leave, biting your lip as you realize how broad he is, and you wonder if he will be back. Shaking your head, you make your way over to the table, grabbing the check and when you cash it out, your eyes widen when you see the fifty dollar tip. “Holy shit.” You curse, eying the money before you put it in your apron, torn on whether to accept it or not. You know he’s gone so you won’t be able to return it. Maybe you can donate it. You need the money but this is a lot. Deciding to figure it out later, you get back to work.

Max thinks about that burger all day, deciding that he’s going to order them back to the diner from yesterday, he walks over to the driver. “I want to go back to the restaurant from last night.” He tells him. “Just me and one of the security guards.”

You look up as the bell rings above the door, your eyes widening slightly when you see Senator Lord walk in with a buff looking man wearing a suit - his security you’re assuming. “Hey. Table for two?” You ask, grabbing a couple of menus.

Shaking his head, Max gives you a smile. “No, Gunther doesn’t like sitting with me.” He tells you. “He’ll sit at the bar and order nothing, just to make himself seem more intimidating.” He jokes, knowing the man will at least order a coffee. But he doesn’t eat while he is out with Max so he can be alert. “I had to come back for another burger.”

You chuckle, setting one menu down before you guide Max to a booth in your section. “Diet Coke?” You ask, and he nods, smiling at you. You love how he blushes a little when you take his menu, his fingers brushing yours. “So you left me way too much money last time.” You say as you set his drink down after submitting his order to the kitchen. You take the money out of your apron and set it down on the table.

Max frowns and looks down at the money before he shakes his head and pushes it back towards you. “I know how much I left. You deserve it.” He murmurs, nodding towards it. “You were a lot more graceful than you should have been to my campaign manager and I know you work hard - like everyone in the service industry.”

Your jaw drops slightly, taken back by his genuine response. You know that most politicians would pull the same act to try and win over another voter but the gesture seems genuine. You pick up the money and tuck it into your apron, tilting your head at him. “You don’t seem like most politicians. You seem…real. Is that genuine or are you just that good an actor?” You ask, deciding to call him out on it.

Laughing at your brazen question, he shakes his head. “Not an actor.” He promises, giving a small shrug. “I grew up poor, very poor. I just know how the little people struggle while everyone else overlooks them.” He explains. “My mother cleaned houses and would cry if her clients would even leave an extra five dollars to tip her. It meant she could eat lunch that week too.”

You are taken back by his answer, figuring he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. You smile at him, “not what I expected but I’m glad to hear you are not one of those upper class assholes looking to make money while pretending to work for his constituency.” He chuckles and you smile again, “I’ll go get your burger when it’s ready.”

Max looks around then diner again, watching a family have their meal while they interact with their two kids. That’s what he wants to work for, a family. The average people who just want to live a good life and raise their kids in a safe world. His own son counted amongst them.

You come back over with his burger, grateful your shift is nearly over with how bad your feet are aching, and you set it down along with the bottle of ketchup, remembering what he said about wanting extra. You look at him for a moment before you fluster, a little lost in his dark gaze, before you walk off to get him another refill on his soda.

When you bring the soda back Max motions to the seat across from him. “Sit down?” He asks, slightly shy but wanting to have you sit with him for a bit. “The diner isn’t very busy and I’m enjoying our banter.” If you say no, he will respect that, but he hopes you don’t. 

You glance around the diner, seeing it’s quiet and your shift is nearly over, so you nod and take a seat. “So…must be lonely on your campaign bus, going from city to city.” You observe, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

Max nods. “Living in hotels or on the bus for weeks at a time isn’t as glamorous as you would think.” He admits. “I miss the simplicity of just sleeping in the same bed every night.” He chuckles. “It actually makes me miss D.C. when we are in session.” He jokes.

You chuckle, “wow. Must be bad. Guess it’s worse when you don’t have someone traveling with you to share your bed at night.” You are a little forward but you think he’s cute and honestly? It’s been a while for you. Not since your asshole of an ex cheated on you.

“Don’t I know it.” Max groans before he stops himself. He clears his throat and blushes slightly and looks away. “I just- there aren’t a lot of opportunities to meet someone new and I refuse to be another senator to has a fucking sex scandal to take away from the real issues.” He explains, hoping you don’t mind the language that slips out.

You hum in agreement, taking note of his broad shoulders. “What if - what if you were guaranteed that no one would know?” You ask cautiously, waiting for his reaction while you lean forward, offering him a glimpse down your button down dress the owner wants you to wear.

Max’s eyes drift down to your cleavage and then back up to your face. “I’m a red blooded man.” His voice is raspy, thicker than it had been before. “I’m not opposed to sex, but I wasn’t going to take advantage of the women that work on my campaign or my staff.” He clarifies. “I meet a beautiful woman and sex happens…well, hopefully she enjoys herself.”

“And if I say that my shift ends in ten minutes which seems to be enough time for you to eat and perhaps, you could come find me outside after you’ve paid your check?” You ask casually, tilting your head at him. He’s hot, the raspy tone in his voice has your thighs pressed together, and you can’t deny the thrill of fucking him without anyone knowing except the two of you is exhilarating.

Max blows out a breath, cock twitching and he watches your eyes to make sure your offer is genuine. “I would say that I will see you outside in 9 and a half minutes.” He promises, looking down at his food with a grin. “Maybe even nine minutes.”

You grin, “see you in nine minutes Senator.” You wink and stand up, swaying your hips as you walk away from his table without looking back. The next nine minutes drags by and you watch the seconds tick down as he scoffs his burger, eagerly slapping down some cash when he pays. You giggle, walking over to him to grab the bill. “Meet me outside in the alley.” You whisper, leaning closer as you pick up the cash. “Change?” You ask breathlessly. He shakes his head, barely able to breathe, and you smirk as you carry the check over to close it out before you clock out.

Max walks over to his guard and murmurs in his ear. All of the team that surrounds him have NDAs so he doesn’t have to worry about the man talking. The worst he could say was the the senator had sex with a woman in an alley. All consensual, but in public. Still, he needs to be aware of where Max is going. He nods, telling Max that he will be in the car. Swallowing, Max exits the diner and walks around the back, already starting to harden at the mere prospect of touching you.

You shove your apron in your locker and grab your purse, shouting a goodbye to your coworkers before you make your way outside to the alley where Maxwell is waiting. It’s dark outside now, the moon in the sky and it gives an intimate atmosphere to your rendezvous despite being by the dumpsters.

Max looks up from where he was staring at the condom in his hands, watching you walk up to him. “Lucky I had one of these.” He jokes, holding it up and biting his lip as you walk closer. “Fuck, you look pretty.” He groans. “Thought so from the very beginning.”

You stride towards him, loving how sweet he is and the fact that he has a condom in his wallet is endearing. He probably had to check it wasn't expired.  You grip the back of his neck, dragging him towards you. "You're too fucking cute. Want you to fuck me, use me for your frustrations." You order before pressing your lips to his.

Max groans, quickly kissing you back and reaching up to cup the back of your neck to press into you. It’s been years since he’s had sex, as shameful as that is. His ex was the last woman he was with, concentrating on his career and Alistair when he has him. However, his body definitely remembers what to do, quickly pressing you against the wall of the diner and kissing down your throat, his hands sliding under your dress.

You gasp when he nips on the skin between your neck and your shoulder. “Fuck, Max.” You moan, snaking your hand between you to cup his hard cock through his expensive slacks. You whimper when his hands squeeze your ass, pulling you against him. “Want- want your fingers.” You confess, grinding against him.

His fingers dip under the band of your panties, practical cotton, but to him they are sexy. Parting your curls, his thick digits slide through your folds and he moans when he finds your clit and starts rubbing as he kisses down your chest and his teeth graze the top of your cleavage. “God.” He breathes out. “So fucking pretty.” 

Moaning, you grind down onto his fingers, and you unbuckle his fancy belt, flicking the button his pants before you can reach in to grip his cock. “Fuck. You’re so thick.” You moan, pulling him out of his pants. His fingers work your clit and you are breathless at how good it feels already.

Groaning at your hand on his cock, he throbs for you. “Shit.” He hisses. Quickly twisting his wrist so he can sink two fingers into your thankfully wet cunt, he licks the top of your bra, wetting the white material and your skin underneath it.

“Oh God. Max, that- that feels good. Gonna make me cum.” You whine, grinding down onto his fingers and your grip on his cock slackens. It’s been so long since you had something other than your own fingers. “Fuck. Oh shit.” You hiss, trying to keep quiet as you clamp down on his thick digits.

He smothers his own whine against your skin, keeping his fingers pumping and moving in your gasping cunt. “That’s it. That’s it.” He croons quietly. Marveling at how tight you were squeezing them and soaking them with your pleasures. Your top finally opens and he bites down on your nipple over the material of your bra and sucks harshly with a groan as he works you through it.

You squeeze his cock, ready for you and you are now ready for him. “Come on baby. Want you inside of me.” You beg, gently pushing him back before you reach into his jacket pocket for the condom. Ripping it open before you roll it down his length.

Max groans and pushes you back against the wall. He reaches down and grips your leg and lifts it up over his hip. “You want me inside you, baby?” He asks, grasping his cock and starting to guide himself towards your cunt as you move your panties to the side.

You keep your panties to the side, gasping when he pushes into you. “Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.” You hiss, tilting your head back as he fills you up, stretching your walls. “Max. Max, baby. Fuck me.” You plead, gripping his neck.

Shuddering at the feel of your nails digging into the back of his neck. Making him hiss and drag his hips back to snap them forward again, burying his cock back in your heat. “Fuck.” Growling, he leans and presses his lips to yours while starting to thrust in and out of your cunt.

You cling to him, pressed against the wall as he thrusts into you with a hiss. “So good Max. Feel so damn good. I- I want - I want more.” You murmur against his lips. Rocking up onto your tip toes so he can thrust deeper into you with a moan. “God yes. Yes. Right there.” You groan when he hits deep to find a delicious spot inside of you.

One hand holding your legs, the other braced on the wall, Max tries to keep hitting that spot with every jolt of his hips. Moaning and grunting at how you tighten around him. He’s not done anything like this in forever and it feels like fucking Heaven. “Jesus, fuck.” He pants, leaning his forehead against yours while you take his cock again and again.

You reach up to cup his cheeks, bringing his mouth back to yours as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. “Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna- Max. Maxxxx.” You squeal against his mouth, clamping down on his cock as you cum.

Max pants out your name, nearly whining it as he continues to rock into you, working you through your high. The loud sounds of your fucking practically echoes around the small area you are tucked into. “Shit.” His hips stutter and he can’t only give another four or five thrusts before he is burying himself deep and filling the condom with his seed with a moan of your name.

You caress his neck, loving the way his jaw clenches as he rocks his way through his high before he stills inside of you. "God, that was good." You sigh, kissing his nose, unable to help yourself when you've imagined it far too many times.

“Yes it was.” Max’s breathing starts to slow down as he enjoys the last moments of closeness before he carefully grips the base of the condom and pulls out of you. Putting your leg down and taking it off to tie a knot in it before throwing it in the dumpster. “Going to sleep like a baby tonight.”

You chuckle, "I bet you are. I'm happy to serve the state." You wink at him and reach out to pull him close one last time, pressing your lips to his. "So...uh, I guess you gotta get back?" You murmur, shifting from one foot to the other. It's a little awkward now the lust has been satiated.

Max nods, hating it, but he does have to strategize and call Alistair in the morning before school. “Do you need a ride home?” He asks, wanting to spend a few more minutes with you if he could.

You shake your head, "no. I can get the bus. I'll be fine." You tell him, picking your purse up from the floor and you turn to look at him. 

"You aren't taking the bus." He insists and you shake your head. 

"I- I don't have a car. I can't afford a car." You tell him, biting your lip.

“Then let me take you home.” Max implores. “Please.” He wants to make sure you get home safely and he knows that the public transportation can take forever to get you where you need to go. “Get you home quickly and into a bath with a glass of wine before you would normally be home.” He adds, trying to sweeten the offer.

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should accept the ride home and make more of this than it really is: a hook up. You smile and nod, “that sounds wonderful. Yes, I’d like a ride home.” You lean closer to kiss his cheek.

“Good.” Max smiles and puts his hand on your back as the two of you walk down the alley. If Gunther is surprised to see you with Max, he doesn’t show it. Opening the door, Max motions for you to climb into the back seat of the SUV before he climbs in beside you. “I’m glad you let us take you home, it’s getting late.”

You glance out the window before you look back at Maxwell. “I’m used to taking the bus. I- my car broke down and I couldn’t afford to fix it so I had to change to taking the bus. If I end up doing a night shift, I usually just walk home because the bus isn’t running.” You confess, knowing it’s not safe but you don’t have any other options. You tell the driver where to go.

“Jesus.” Max shakes his head, knowing that if he hadn’t insisted on taking you home that you would be walking home. “I- my schedule is tight but I can send the man who works on my cars over to look at it?” He offers, wanting to help however he could. “Otherwise, I would look at it myself.” You give him a startled look and he chuckles. “I worked my way through college working in a mechanics shop.”

You tilt your head, “you did? Wow. You are way more than you appear, Maxwell Lord.” You reach over to take his hand in yours. “Thank you. I- I would really appreciate you doing that. I- I need my car back. Pepper spray only goes so far.” You chuckle awkwardly and squeeze his hand.

Max squeezes your hand back, proud of being able to help you. It’s a good feeling almost as good as the first time he had signed a bill that became law. “We’ll make sure you don’t have to worry about that from now on.” He promises. “He’s a miracle worker with cars.”

You kiss the back of his hand after lifting it to your mouth. “You’re a good man. You’ve got my vote.” You joke, offering him a wink before you give the driver another direction to turn onto your street. Thankfully you didn’t live too far away from the diner.

Max honestly wishes you lived farther away so he could spend more time with you. Instead he feels the car pull to a stop, turning to see the older apartment building. He could tell that it wasn’t newer but hopefully the owners kept up with maintenance. “Well, I take it you are home. I hope you have a good night.” He offers softly.

“You too. I’ll see you around Senator Lord.” You offer him one last wink before his driver opens the door to let you out and you make your way into your builder. 

Gunther meets Max’s eyes in the rear view mirror after the car is rolling down the street. “You know Jackson is gonna kill you for this.” Gunther warns his boss.

Max gives a small shrug, a smile playing on his lips. “Let him try.” He murmurs. “She is exactly what I needed tonight and Jackson needs to remember he works for me, not the other way around.” He looks back towards your building behind him and huffs. “Might be my new favorite place to eat.”

“The diner or the lady?” Gunter jokes, making Max blush and look out the window. He knows he will be back, it’s just a question of when. 

****

It’s been three weeks since you saw Max and you can’t help but think he got what he wanted and now he’s never coming back. You ignore the questions from your coworkers, all of them guessing he kissed you, none of them daring to assume he fucked you in the alleyway.

You don’t divulge the dirty details, wanting to keep your secret romp with Max just that to preserve his integrity and yours. However, with each day that passes, you can’t help but want to talk to someone about it to get some advice. You don’t have the man’s phone number and even if you did, he’s on the road so much you’d probably go straight to the answer machine.

Max sighs, tired after three weeks on the road. He has been to several diners that reminded him of yours, but his spirits lift when he sees the sign for the little greasy spoon he has come to dream about. More specifically the alleyway behind it and the sexy yet sweet waitress. 

Smiling when the bell rings out when he opens the door, the woman closest to him turns to greet him. “Can I sit in her section?” He asks, nodding to where you are bringing out plates to a table of what looked like truckers. “Please.”

You turn your head to see Max walking towards you and you can't stop the silly smile that appears on your face. You might've been scouring the tv guide and local news for any interviews with him and you had thought about him every time your hand was between your thighs. "Here you go fellas." You tell the truckers, setting their meals down before you walk over to the table Max sat down at. "Hey stranger." You smile, "Diet Coke and a burger?" You guess.

Max’s grin is answering your own, but there is a devilish twinkle in his eyes. He nods, leaning in. “It will have to do for now, since what I want isn’t exactly on the menu.” He murmurs where no one else can hear him. He has been thinking about you probably every day, definitely every time he had his hand wrapped around his cock. “So I guess I will have to stick with the food.” He winks at you playfully. “How have you been?”

Your stomach twists in anticipation about what he really wants and you bite your lip. "Not too bad. Busy with work as always. Been thinking about this senator...he does this amazing thing with his hips." You whisper with a smirk, writing down his order. "I'll be right back with your soda." You wink, walking away and swaying your hips until you feel his gaze burning into you.

Gunther is at the bar again, sitting there as Max admires your figure. He had immediately told the guard that he wanted to come to the diner over the objections of his campaign manager, but he had just ignored that. He was free from any meet and greets, town hall meetings or campaign trail stops for the next week and he had wanted to see you before he did anything else. Hoping that you weren’t too upset that he hasn’t been in. He had forgotten to give you a number to reach him at. When you bring the Diet Coke back he notices that you don’t seem as tired. “So I heard that my guy was able to get your car back on the road for you.”

You hover near his table, nodding and offering him a smile. "Yes. Yes. He was great. It's so nice to have my car back. I wanted to reach out to you to thank you but I didn't have a number for you." You confess, shifting from one foot to the other and you look into those dark eyes that have haunted you. "Thank you. Really, you - you have no idea how much easier my life is now I don't have to take the bus or walk."

“I should have given you my number.” He’s happy you don’t have to worry about getting home from work now. He had not been thrilled about you walking home alone at night, and it was something he had told his guy when he sent him over there. Get your car on the road no matter what it costs. You didn’t have to worry about the bill, he would have paid it, but luckily it was just a spark plug. Although he had gone through the car to check more than that and did a tune up on it for you. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a card. “Personal number’s on the back.”

You carefully take the card from him, admiring the gold, and you bite your lip. “I’ve never had the personal number of a senator before.” You tease, tucking the card into your apron. The truckers call you over, asking for more coffee, and you glance back at Max before you go to grab the pot. After satisfying the truckers, you grab Max’s burger and set it down in front of him. “How’s your son?” You ask, wanting to extend your time together.

He grins, thinking about his son. Despite the divorce and his ambitions, he wanted to be a good father to Alistair. He chuckles. “I’m going to go pick him up tonight. Have him spend the night and take him to school tomorrow.” The campaign trail was hard because he spent a lot of time away from him, not wanting to drag him away from his routine, despite what Jackson wanted. His son wasn’t going to be a pawn to get votes. “Pizza and the newest movie he wants to watch is on the menu.”

You grin, “membership card to Blockbuster, huh?” You snort, imagining Max in his pristine suit picking out a movie with his son. “I like that you put your son first. Not many fathers would do what you do and still try to be present for their child. I, uh, I like you. A lot.” You confess, biting your lip as you look towards the table of truckers who are leaving after paying their checks.

“I like you too.” Max answers easily. “A lot.” He sees the money on the table and jerks his chin over to it. “Go pocket your tip.” He urges you. “I’ll be here when you get done. Until you have a break even.” He tells you, voice slipping a bit lower and rougher. He wanted to see you mostly, but now that he’s seen you, he wants to touch you again. 

You shiver at the roughness in his tone, nodding before you make your way over to the now empty table, pocketing your tip before you clean up the plates. Once you’ve finished wiping down the table it’s time for your break and you see Max has finished eating. “Come on baby. Meet me in the alleyway.” You whisper as you walk past, waiting for him to follow you.

Max gets up, making like he is going to go down the hallway and use the bathroom. Gunther sees him of course, smirking to himself and the senator as he walks by. But Max doesn’t pay him any attention, eager to meet you in the alleyway despite it being broad daylight.

You giggle when Max slams the door open and grabs you, pressing you up against the wall, his lips immediately finding yours. You moan into his mouth, gripping the lapels of his expensive jacket, his tongue sliding into your mouth when you gasp. The door to the alleyway swings open and you push Max away when his security guard appears. Maxwell turns his head to look as Gunther lights a cigarette. “Just want to make sure no one watches. Carry on. I am gonna have a smoke.” He says, turning his back.

He waits for you to protest, to tell you that there is no way that you can have sex with him while his security is here. When he doesn’t hear a sound of protest, Max chuckles and leans in to kiss you again. “Thought about you for three weeks.” He groans, biting down your throat again. He has a condom in his pocket again and he presses his hard cock against your hip. “Tell me I can fuck you? Tell me that you’ve been thinking about it.” He begs quietly.

You whine, “yes. Yes, please. You’re all I’ve thought about. I’m wet just thinking about how you felt inside of me.” You confess, reaching down to grab his hand. You slide it under your dress to your panties, showing him how wet you already are.

Max groans, pushing the fabric aside so he can slide his fingers through your slick folds. “Fuck.” He pushes a finger inside you. “You want me to fuck you right here again?” He asks. “Make sure you come back to work feeling good from cumming?”

“Yes. Yes. Want- want you to fuck me. You- you felt so good last time.” You pant, pushing his hand out of your panties so you can push them down, turning around after pulling your dress up. You look over your shoulder at him, “please Max. Fuck me.”

“Fuck.” Max hisses and pulls the condom out of his pocket to put between his teeth, tearing at his belt. His cock is already aching to be buried inside you. A quick glance at Gunther’s back ensures the man is watching for the two of you as he rips open the foil wrapper and quickly rolls the rubber down his length.

You gasp when the head of his cock nudges your clit before he notches the head at your entrance, pushing into you in one thrust. “Fuck. Oh fuck Max. Feels so good. Already. Feels so fucking good.” You moan, trying to grind back onto him as your forearms are scratched by the brick wall.

Gripping your hip, Max moans his agreement. “Fuck.” He hisses, pulling back to surge into you again. “Jerked off thinking about this, about you.” He confesses, grinding deep and loving the way that you clench around him. Your panting moans make him want to cum right now but he wants to make sure you cum before he does.

“Never felt like this before. Always - always faked it but with you - it’s real. You make me feel so good. Fuck my pussy so good.” You lean forward to rest your forehead against the cool brick, spreading your legs a little wider so he can fuck into you. “Yes baby. Yes. Harder. Need more.” You beg and reach back to grip onto his hand on your hip.

Pride rises in his chest, making him give you his cock exactly how you want it. Hard and deep thrusts into your cunt, pushing you into the wall make him start panting. “Y-you feel f-fucking incredible.” He gasps out. “So so tight, h-hot.”

Your cheek scratches against the brick but you don’t care, too obsessed with the way he is grinding into you, fucking you into next week. The sound of his hips hitting your ass echoes in the alleyway but Gunther just continues smoking his cigarette as he keeps watch.

“Fuck.” He hisses, one hand sliding under the bunched up fabric of your dress to reach around you to start rubbing your clit. The audaciousness of it, a senator fucking his waitress in broad daylight in an alley, but he fucking loves it. Loves the way that you are so eager for it, the way that you want him. “Cum for me.” He groans into your ear, nibbling on the shell.

You let out a strangled groan when his fingers rub your clit, making you cry out in pleasure when you clamp down on his cock. He actually makes you cum - something your other lovers couldn’t claim. “Yes yes yes. Max. Oh shit!” You shriek, legs shaking as you soak him.

He pants raggedly in your ear, the hold your body has on him makes his teeth grit. Moaning with you as he rocks into you. Now that he has made you cum, he can cum himself. “Good.” He rasps out. “S-so fucking good.”

When he cums, he bites down on your neck and you love it. Reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his styled hair, messing it up delights you. "Cum for me Max. Cum." You plead, squeezing his cock.

Max whimpers, letting go of the thin control he has and with one more thrust he bites down on your neck, aware that your co-workers might see the imprint of his teeth and not caring. Grunting and grinding into you as he pushes his release into the condom until he finally stops moving and kisses the spot on your neck while he tries to catch his breath.

You sag against the wall, closing your eyes as the pleasure continues to wash over you. “So damn good. Every time.” You sigh, shifting so his cock slides out of you and you turn to wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his.  “How about a milkshake to go?” You ask, “for Alistair?”

“That would be perfect.” Max kisses you again. “Thank you.” He murmurs softly, smiling at you before he starts to tuck himself away.

You dispose of the condom and adjust your dress, stepping away from him before you turn towards the back door of the diner. Gunther is still standing with his back to you until Max tells him to turn around. You head back inside, unaware of his teeth marks in your neck until your coworker mentions it. “Just making out with the Senator.” You joke, working on making Alistair’s chocolate milkshake.

Max walks over to pick up the bill and walks over to hand you some money when you turn back and have the milkshake ready. He’s paying you far more than necessary but he wants you to make sure you have a good day today. “Thank you.”

You offer him a wink and a smile, “you’re welcome Senator Lord.” You take the money, eyes widening slightly at how much extra cash he’s given you. Sally eyes the money, glancing between you and Max before he nods and walks out with the milkshake. “Seems like you have an admirer.” Sally comments and you shrug, “he’s just being nice.”

****

It’s  been nearly two weeks, and Max is practically obsessed with seeing you. He has been to see you every day you work and the two of you always end up behind the diner, wrapped up in each other. The only time he hasn’t had sex with you was the night that he brought Alistair for dinner, promising the boy he would take him to where he got the delicious milkshake from. He had loved how you had interacted with him; making him even more sure that you were someone he wanted in his life. Walking through the door, he nods to the other waitress and moves over to your section to sit down. 

Sally calls out your name, “Senator Lord is here.” She tells you and you can’t help but look in the mirror in the hallway, checking your hair and you stride into the diner, smiling when you see Max sitting in his section. “Hey stranger.” You coo, sliding in to sit opposite him. “Burger?” You ask and he nods. “How’s Alistair?” You inquire, scribbling down his order.

“He’s good. He aced his math test.” Max crows, a proud papa of his son. “My son is bright, already learned the next section of the class, the teacher thinks he needs to be put in an advanced class.” He looks you over with a soft smile, imagining you helping him with homework. “How are you? Anything new going on with your neighbor?”

You shake your head, “no. No. He’s still got the television blaring at all hours of the day despite me telling him to turn it the fuck down. I’m sick of hearing the buzzing noise when the channel goes off air.” You roll your eyes as you reach out to brush your leg against his. “I, uh, I applied to go back to school. Finish up my classes…finally.” You fluster, biting your lip. You’ve saved the money Max gave you, deciding to put it towards something that will get you out of the diner.

“That’s great!” Max grins, proud of you for deciding to do something for you. From the time he has spent with you, learning about you, he’s come to find that it’s rare for you to do something that benefits just you. “Let me know if I can help in any way, you let me know.” He offers, meaning every word of it.

You want to reach for his hand but you can’t. You’ve never really discussed what you are or what it is that you’re doing. All you know is he comes to have a burger and then he fucks you. Probably an amazing deal for most men. You can’t help but want more. A proper date to dress up and eat with him instead of rushing off to get another person’s meal. “Thank you.” You tell him, meaning every word. It’s unusual for you to ever have support like this…not since your mom died. “So…I’ll go put your order in.” You tell him, not noticing the giggles coming from the women on the next table over from Max, the morning newspaper on the table.

Max frowns when the giggling and whispering continues, but he doesn’t pay much attention. Too busy watching you as you check on your customers. You are so sweet and kind to people, even when they are rude. He plans to try to come up with the nerve to ask you out. It’s laughable, he’s able to fuck you, but he can’t ask you out.

You grab the sodas for the table of women after putting in Max’s order, and that’s when you see it. A photo of you and Max in the alleyway. Clearly having sex, your mouth open as he pressed you against the wall with Gunter standing in the background. You squeak, grabbing the paper, and the women look up at you. “Who knew we had the Senator’s whore serving us?” One of them says and you stare at the photos.

Max hears the comment, immediately jumping out of his booth to confront them. He doesn’t understand why they would say that but he quickly understands when he sees the paper in your hands. Striding over to see the picture that has you frozen in horror, he closes his eyes and hisses a curse. “Shit.” He opens his eyes and glares at the women. “Calling a woman a whore isn’t very feminist of you.” He scolds, gently taking your shoulder. “Come on, we need to talk.”

You nod, heart pounding in your chest, and you are worried about what he is going to say, wondering if he is going to  blame you or throw you under the bus. "Max. I-" You choke when you are in the alleyway once more. The paper seems to be burning in your hands from where you still hold it. "I'm - I'm so sorry."

Max shakes his head, hating how mortified you seem. “I am sorry.” He murmurs, taking the paper from you and sighing as he cups your cheek. “This is my fault. I should have known this could happen.” He’s ashamed of how he had never even gotten a hotel room for the two of you or taken you out to dinner. “I’ll protect you from the media as best I can.” He promises.

You shake your head, "no Max. You can't. It will destroy your career. You need to blame this on me. Tell the media I offered myself up. Tell them I - I came onto you and you, being a man, couldn't resist. You'll be the hero. I- I will be branded a slut but they will forget about me. I'll be forgotten after the next scandal comes out. You need to win this re-election for you and for Alistair. Blame it on me." You plead, cupping his cheeks.

“No.” Max is adamant about that. There is no way that he is going to blame this on you. “I should have-“ he breaks off and shakes his head. “I should have done things right. Taken you out on a date or at least gotten a fucking hotel for this.” He gives you a sorrowful work. “I didn’t even have sex with you in bed.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “no. No. It was - fuck. It was perfect. It was clumsy and messy and just - it was us. No expectations or drama. I liked it. I loved it because…fuck Max. I - I think I’m in love with you.” You finish with a whisper, stomach twisting with nerves.

Max stares at you for a moment, amazed that you aren’t screaming at him for getting splashed across the front page of the paper. Instead you are confessing your feelings for him. “I had planned to ask you out today.” He confesses. “Want to take you out. Have someone wait on you for a change. Would you still want to maybe do that with me?”

You bite your lip, “do you want - you want to be seen with me after that?” You ask, gesturing to the newspaper. “It’s not gonna be easy Max. Are you sure you don’t want to just…blame it on me and say it’s all me? It would be a hell of a lot easier for you.” You sigh, crossing your arms.

Max shakes his head. “I wouldn’t do that. I- Jackson might be pissed but I’m just going to admit that I should not have been in a public setting, but that it was an intimate interlude with the woman I love.” He tells you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You inhale sharply at his confession, a silly smile on your lips as you look at him. “Then let’s go to dinner.” You surge forward to press your lips to his, hearing the photographers approaching when they are shouting your way and suddenly you’re engulfed by cameras. “Max?” You choke, clinging to him.

“Shit.” Max wraps his arm around you and curls you towards him, holding up his hand towards the throng of reporters. 

“Senator Lord! You’ve been adamant that you run a clean house, what do you have to say about this scandal? Sex in public.” 

Max shakes his head. “No comment.” More questions are hurled towards the two of you as he shuffles the two of you towards Gunther, who is pushing his way through the cameras and bodies. “No comment at this time.”

You press yourself against Max as Gunther guides you to Max's car through the throng of vultures and you exhale shakily when you are inside the back of his town car. "I- shit." You choke, trying to ignore the way they are banging on the windows as the driver pulls away. "Shit. My purse is in my locker. I haven't finished my shift." You tell Max despite your hands shaking.

“I think your boss will understand.” Max murmurs, hugging you to him and rubbing your arms to calm you down. You are trembling and he hates it. “We will go back to my house. I’m sure Jackson is there, ready to berate me, but I don’t care.” He promises. “I’ll call your boss when we get there, make sure they understand.”

You nod, leaning into him to breathe in his expensive cologne. You close your eyes until you are arriving at Maxwell's house. Somewhere you have never been before. It's big and fancy - not that you expected anything less- and it's overwhelming when you walk inside to see the marble floors and gilded gold. It's a far cry from your shabby little apartment. "Your home is beautiful." You whisper, lost in the extravagant decor.

“Thank you.” Max keeps you close, his hold on you tightening slightly. This wasn’t the way he wanted to bring you over, but there was no changing what happened now. 

“Max!” He frowns and turns his head towards the study door where Jackson is rushing out, his campaign manager obviously aware of what the papers posted by the look on his face.

Jackson looks at you and you prepare for the onslaught of thinly veiled insults. "You - you are fucking fantastic." He tells you, "you are - our poll numbers are through the roof. You wouldn't believe - they love that Max is with a working class woman. They love that he seems...normal. You are a fucking saving grace." Jackson says, holding his hands up towards you.

Max huffs, completely thrown off by this. He had been expecting Jackson to hit the roof, not look at you like the golden goose. “Right.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes and leaning into you. “Of course you are happy with polling numbers.” He clears his throat. “I want the paper to issue an apology for publishing her name though.” He tells Jackson. “They were wrong to do that.”

“I agree, but there’s no such thing as bad news Maxwell. It’s fucking - we will ask for an apology but then you gotta take her out on a proper date, show them you can be a gentleman and it will be a proper Cinderella story. We will make sure that she is all dolled up - designer of course - to show the public she’s more than a quick fuck. She is more than a quick fuck, right?” Jackson asks Max.

He purses his lips, not liking the term ‘Cinderella story’ because he never viewed you like that. “Yes, she’s more than a quick fuck.” He assures his manager. “But I don’t want to doll her up in designer anything unless she wants it.” He turns to you to explain. “I don’t want you to think you aren’t good enough exactly as you are.”

You shake your head, “no. I, uh, I don’t want to be seen as a gold digger. I’ve never asked Max for any money. I’ve always worked hard for what I have and that’s not going to change. I want to go back to school. Get my degree and be on my own two feet.”

Jackson groans with pleasure and shakes his head. “I told you- I told you she was perfect when we met her!” He crows over your answer and completely ignores the fact that he has said quite the opposite. “Just make sure you say it just like that when you sit down with the reporter we are going to get to do a story on you and Max.” He grins. “This is going to be good!” His eyes widened in happiness. “I need to start making calls! Max is going to get re-elected thanks to you!”

****

“Please welcome Senator Lord and his beautiful new wife.” You squeeze Max’s hand, unable to believe you are at his election party. You had gotten married just before the election, unable to wait since you were impatient to be his wife. You’ve gone back to school, working on finishing your degree and you are an excellent stepmother to Alistair, growing close to him after you and his father were official. 

You have been the talk of the election cycle, giving interviews and photoshoots with Max. It’s been exhausting but after leaving the diner, you are able to focus on what works best for you and Max. You enter the room, loving the cheers of his supporters, and he guides you to the dance floor. 

“Can I have this dance?” He asks softly. 

“Always.” You answer, letting him pull you close. 

“Max. I have something to tell you.” You murmur after he sways you to the music. 

“What hermosa?” He asks. 

“I’m pregnant.” You whisper, a smile on your face.

Max gulps, his face breaking out in a wide smile and he lunges forward to press his lips to yours, much to the delight of his followers and the people who had worked tirelessly to get him elected. 

“I love you.” He promises against your lips. “I love you so much, Mrs. Lord.” 

He can’t help but be absolutely amazed. Stopping in a diner for dinner one night has led to this moment. He’s remarried to a woman that loves him and adores his son. He’s been re-elected to serve his constituents and try to make the world a better place for everyone, including the new baby you are going to gift him with. Life couldn’t be better.

MasterList

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#pedro pascal #max lord #maxwell lord #max lord x reader #max lord x f!reader #max lord x you #max lord imagine #max lord smut #max lord fanfic #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x f!reader #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord smut #maxwell lord imagine #maxwell lord fanfic #maxwell lord wonder woman 84

[palioom]

congratulations

summary: you visit maxwell in his office to celebrate a big win for him in the way you know he likes best.

pairing: subby!maxwell lord x f!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n ; some swearing, unprotected p in v, sub!maxwell; teasing, some edging, oral (f receiving); riding; praise kink; office sex

• masterlist •

Walking past the front desk of the office building with long strides, she grew more and more excited as she entered the elevator, pressing the button that would bring her to Maxwell’s office.

Today had been a great day, he had managed to make some deals he had been anxious about for ages, deals that would help grow his business even further.

He had called her earlier, ecstatic about it and she had immediately gotten dressed and made her way over to celebrate early.

Bouncing on her heels, she grinned all the way up, genuinely excited for his achievements, pulling down her skirt just a little more.

The doors opened with a “ding!” and she crossed the little hallway in just a few steps, opening the door to his office without knocking.

The secretary had told her he was alone.

“Maxwell!” She said, voice full of excitement and happiness, a wide smile on her face. “Congratulations, baby!”

His head snapped up, confused at first but then a grin spread across his face as he saw her quickly walk over to him, turning his chair to the side so she could lean down and kiss him properly.

“Thank you, love.” He said in between kisses, her hands squeezing his cheeks, his own on her hips, guiding her to sit on his lap sideways.

She giggled when she let go of him, thumbs rubbing his cheekbones.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. You did so well.” 

Her lips found his nose before pressing another one to his lips.

A shiver ran through him when her hands moved down to his neck, her gaze still soft and excited but with a certain twinkle in them now.

Maxwell swallowed heavily.

“I think you deserve a reward, don’t you, pretty boy?” She purred, voice low now, leaning closer to his ear. “A nice reward for all your hard work?”

“Darling-”

“Don't you, baby?”

She kissed him again, swallowing his moan and feeling his fingers dig into her sides.

Her hands wandered over his shoulders, feeling the expensive material of his baby blue suit and then down to his chest, opening some buttons.

“Y-Yes, dear.” His pupils were blown wide when she pulled back, lips slightly parted.

He looked so gorgeous, all flustered and needy already.

“I’m so proud of you.” She whispered, moving to stand from his lap, lifting herself onto his desk. “And I know just what a reward you’d love.”

His dark eyes followed her moves, wandering down to where she slowly spread her legs right in front of him, her dark skirt riding up higher.

Just this little bit of teasing had him strain against his suit pants, shifting in his leather chair.

This was absolutely something he would love, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

She just watched him, leaning back on one arm while her free hand played with the hem of her skirt.

“Take off your jacket, Max.”

He took a moment, blinking up at her but then moving to take it off, throwing it into a chair not too far away from them.

Waiting for what she’d say next.

She saw his fingers flexing on his thighs, looking over her legs, spread for him but not quite showing what he wanted just yet.

“You can touch, baby.” She said, her free hand coming up to brush back his hair. “It’s alright, pretty boy.”

His fingers were on her immediately. Trailing up her shins to her knees and then to her thighs, not daring to cross the line of her skirt, but pressing a soft kiss to the inside of one of her knees.

The motion made her shiver, letting her nails rake over his scalp.

Giggling at the small moan that left him.

“Such a good boy, Max.” She cooed, his eyes snapping up to hers. “So good, baby.”

Just when she thought he had forgotten his manners, he whispered a quiet “Thank you”, making her smile wider and caress his cheek.

With a sigh, her hand fell to her skirt, fingers trailing along the hem of it.

“I was thinking about teasing you today, baby.” She said, lifting her hips so she could hike up her skirt further, until it was bunched up at her waist. “But I am so, so proud of your hard work and you are being so good for me, so I won’t.”

His eyes had followed her every move, now fixed on the black lace covering her already wet pussy.

He was adorable, hands on her thighs but the wheels clearly turning in his head, unsure if he could touch her or not.

The desire was clearly there, breaths shallow and his hands moved up and down her legs.

“Go ahead, told you it’s okay, baby.”

As if a leash had been taken off of him, his hands moved up, hooking his fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulling them down swiftly, putting them in the breast pocket of his dress shirt.

“I’m getting those back later.” She laughed, her hand threading back into his hair as he moved to pull her closer to the edge of the table.

His broad hands rested on the inside of her thighs, keeping her spread open for him.

Just when he was about to dive in, though, looking like a man starved, she tightened her grip in his hair with a soft tut, holding him back.

“Ah-ah, Max. Slow.” She warned him, just a little sternness in her voice. “This is your reward and you’ll savour that, won’t you, baby?”

He nodded, eyes coming back up to hers, seeing her raised brow.

It took him a moment, but he got there, knowing she wanted him to speak.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled at that, chuckling quietly.

“There you go, now go ahead. Congratulations.”

Her hand stayed in his blonde locks but she loosened her grip, gasping when his tongue made contact with her clit.

It was his favourite thing, eating her out. Always got him rock hard and he was so good at pleasing her, swirling his tongue around her clit before moving down to her aching hole, fully tasting her.

“Oh, Max- Fuck, you’re good, baby, doing so well.” She said, the praise making him moan against her core. The vibrations felt delicious, paired with his tongue fucking into her and his nose nudging against her clit. “Such a good boy for me.”

She watched him, head buried between her thighs, eyes closed and brows furrowed, his movements slow even though she felt the tenseness in him, the urge to go faster and devour her.

Not yet, though. Maxwell needed to work on his patience, always wanting things to happen in an instant.

Her hips bucked against his face in time with his movements, moaning loudly when he sucked on her clit.

“That’s it, Max. Just a little faster, yes?”

She felt breathless already, her orgasm building steadily and too quickly for her own liking, too turned on by him submitting to her.

He increased his movements, just a little too fast, the tight grip on his hair reminding him to slow down right to how she wanted him, humming at the pain.

“You gotta be patient, baby. I got you this pretty reward and you want it to be over in a minute?” She said, watching him shift in his chair again. “Are you that ungrateful?”

“No.” The sound of his voice was muffled against her pussy, eyes opening to look up at her now.

Fuck, he looked hot, eyes glazed over and so needy.

“What was that?” She asked, pulling him off of her by his hair. “You gotta speak up, it’s rude to talk with your mouth full, Maxwell.”

He was breathing hard, chin glistening with her wetness.

“No, my love.” He repeated, louder this time.

She smiled, knuckles brushing over his cheek.

“Good.” She sighed, grabbing his hair again and pulling him against her. “Was thinking you didn’t deserve this pussy, but go ahead, I’ll look the other way just this once.”

He practically devoured her, wet noises intensifying as he moaned and whimpered into her.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good, baby.” She moaned, feeling herself getting closer as he alternated between giving attention to her clit and fucking to her, lapping up all of her.

He whimpered again, doubling down, wanting to feel her cum on his tongue, wanting all of his reward.

He had definitely earned it.

Just when she teetered on the edge though, she brought one of her feet to his shoulder, pushing him back and against the back of his chair, making him whine at the loss but smirking when she saw his desperate and confused look.

“Darling-” Maxwell whimpered, fearing he had fucked up somehow, watching her breathe heavily.

Genuinely worried this was it, with the way her heel was digging into his collarbone.

But she shook her head, tilting it back as she gathered her breath, orgasm ebbing away slowly.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Max, don’t worry your pretty blonde head.” She laughed a little, breathless, and it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Besides her moans. “You’re just too good, baby. And I want this to last for you, don’t you?”

He nodded, then remembered.

“Yes, love.”

She waited just a moment longer before looking back at him, her foot falling away from his shoulder with a smirk, nudging against the bulge in his pants.

Clearly taking him by surprise, based on the choked sound he made.

“Sweetheart- My god-”

A giggle echoed between them and she bit her lip at the sight of him.

“Make me cum, make it pretty, and you’ll get another reward, baby.” She said, spreading her legs again, wet and waiting just for him. “Sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect, thank you, my love.” 

The words came out rushed, and he was on her immediately.

This time, she let him, bucking up against his face, moaning at his eagerness.

Feeling herself closer to the edge again, hand on his shoulder to find some purchase, sounds growing louder by the second.

“Fuck, Maxwell, you’re so good, such a good boy.” She breathed out, so close, so damn close. He focused on her clit again, sucking hard. “Just like that, yes!”

All air left her lungs when she came, a wretched moan leaving with it, body shaking.

Maxwell lapped up everything he gave her, helping her through the waves and he watched her face contorted in pleasure, groaning softly.

He kept going until she pushed him back with her foot again. Big, satisfied smile on her face, almost matching his.

“You’ve done well, baby. That was fucking good.”

Sitting up straight, she looked down at him, cupping his cheeks.

“Ready for more, love?” She asked, thumbs brushing along his cheekbones again. “You must be aching to have my pussy on you, hm? Tell me, baby.”

He really was uncomfortable in his pants, nodding.

“Very. I want you, darling.”

It wasn’t quite right, he wasn’t begging hard enough.

“Open your pants, take out your cock.” She ordered him and he did as told, opening his suit pants and freeing his aching cock, already glistening with precum.

Whimpering when he touched himself but then resting his hands on his thighs.

“Touch yourself.” She said, watching his face fall with a giggle. His fingers flexed but didn’t move. “You heard me, go on.”

He was just aching and she knew, knew that it wouldn’t take him that long until he burst.

But he needed more patience.

Still, he reluctantly wrapped his hand around himself, giving himself a few slow tugs, whimpering but looking at her.

Just like he knew she wanted.

“Beg me for it.” She said, eyes moving back and forth between his cock and his face, taking in his parted, glistening lips. “Beg for my pussy and you’ll get your reward.”

“Please, darling.” He said, hand slowing down just a little, trying to hold out. “I- I want your sweet pussy around my- fuck, around my cock. Please, my love.”

She smiled. Normally it wouldn’t be enough and she would reduce him to tears before she gave in.

But it was a special day, and he deserved this.

“I’ll let it slide. Well done, Max.”

She slid down the table to straddle his hips in the chair, reaching between them to line herself up with him.

Slowly sinking down onto him, watching his eyes close as he slumped back against the backrest, his hands wandering to her hips and curling his fingers into her.

“Ah-ah, Maxwell, hands off.” She warned him, voice lacking just a little of her authority, breathless from how well he stretched her open. “No touching, got that?”

“But, my love-”

“Hands. Off.” She repeated, raising a brow at him, his hands removing themselves and gripping the armrests instead, knuckles white. “And you don’t cum ‘til I tell you to, understood?”

This wasn’t what he understood under a reward, but there was an element of excitement to it.

He’d take whatever she would give him.

Slowly, she rolled her hips, squeezing him tight when he didn’t answer.

“Understood, Maxwell?”

He nodded, looking her in the eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

She braced herself on her elbows on the table behind her, bouncing on his cock as their moans mingled, small breaths and pants interspersed.

It was beautiful, seeing him try to hold on, try to do what she told him to. Saw how he struggled to keep his hands to himself, how he just wanted to cum inside of her already.

But he held back, trying so hard not to let his orgasm crash into him already.

“You look so pretty like this, Maxwell.” She moaned, leaning forward again to kiss him. “Trying so hard for me, being such a good, obedient boy.”

He whimpered into her mouth and she slipped her tongue against his, feeling how he lifted his hands off the armrests just momentarily before slamming them back down again.

His hips rocking up into her with shallow motions now.

“I know it’s hard but you can hold on a little longer, yes?”

A strangled “yes” rolled from his mouth right into hers.

She was losing control faster than she thought she would, spurred on by his sounds and the way his cock hit her just right.

“Yeah, you can. You’re so good for me, Max, so good.” She let go of him, bracing herself on his shoulders, the chair squeaking with every bounce of hers. “I am so proud of you, so very proud, you’ve done well.”

Her words were mostly ramblings now, repeating herself over and over, drowning out the way he whimpered her name.

“My love, please.” He said, the pressure inside him unbearable now. “Let me cum, please- Darling-”

She felt hazy, nodding and grabbing his shoulders tighter.

“Cum inside me, Max, you’ve done so well, so good.”

And he did, letting go with a deep groan, eyes screwed shut as he spilled himself inside of her. Still not touching her, using the last of his willpower to grab the chair instead of her.

She followed right after him, his sounds of pleasure enough to tip her over a second time, mouth crashing against his again, drowning out her own moans.

Her hips kept moving until she had ridden out the last waves of pleasure, her hands finding his and prying open his tight grip to move them to her hips.

Maxwell immediately pulled her against him, meeting the lazy movements of her lips as they calmed down.

She giggled, moving back just a little so she could kiss his cheek.

“I really am proud of you, Max.” She whispered, resting her forehead against his temple, her nose pressing against his cheek. “Are you alright? Too much?”

He sighed, slumping back in his chair.

“Just perfect. The best surprise and reward a man could want.” His voice was a little hoarse, but nothing some water wouldn’t fix.

Or champagne. She was far from done celebrating with him.

“I reserved a table at that restaurant you like so much.” She said, looking into his eyes now. Such a nice shade of brown, so full of love for her. “The one with that really good lobster you never shut up about.”

He laughed at that, a hand coming up to brush some hair from her face.

“We should get home and get cleaned up. There’s a lot to celebrate.” She continued, smiling. “I am so happy for you, baby, congrats.”

“Thank you, my love.” He kissed her again, briefly. “Let’s go, then.”

There really was a lot to celebrate.

And they did, until the early morning.

With many more rewards for Maxwell from her.

Expressing just how happy and proud she was of him.

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord imagine #wonder woman 84 #wonder woman #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal characters #fan fic #fic #fics #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing

[muldermuse]

i have maxwell lord brain rot ok- i couldnt stop thinkin about this all niiiiiiight

ok so max hires you as his personal assistant like before he gets all powerful and whatever

he's really honest about his lack of funds but he guarantees you that he's getting close to a big break and honestly you need anything and the work seems flexible so you can do it. u end up spending a lot of time looking after his son and max is in awe of how you are with alistair and hes developing feelings for you (and you are for him- he's a great dad and its such a turn on)

so as the months go on you end up taking alistair back to your home in the evenings as otherwise he's just at the office, waiting for his dad to finish. you make him grilled cheese with chips for dinner and watch some cartoons on the couch together. the evening gets later and you both end up falling asleep

max has a key and he lets himself into your apartment. he's holding a bunch of flowers and some of your favourite candy as an apology for how much you've been doing for him and his son. like he knows you're doing far too much for him but he loves seeing you and he can't bring himself to ask you to stop. when he sees you both asleep, he feels his heart triple in size

he presses a kiss to alistair's head and then your own. you wake up just for a moment as he joins both of you on the sofa, placing a blanket over the three of you. he thinks you're asleep as he whispers in your ear that he loves you.

and just before he passes out with pure exhaustion, he feels you press a kiss to his cheek and whisper that you love him too <3333

tbh i was going to go smuttier with this and write in DETAIL about max going down on you...mayb next time

#ww84 #twisted wonderland #maxwell lord #max lord #wonder woman #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord fluff #pedro pascal fluff #max lord fluff #maxwell lord imagine

[mypoisonedvine]

81:"just come to dinner with me. it doesn't have to be weird." 89:"keep the lights on, I want to see you." 88:"kiss me like you mean it." With Jack Whiskey or maxwell Lord.

Hope your having a lovley day<3

-❄

I know he's not everybody's favorite but I want a sugar daddy maxwell fic sooo bad! to make it fair I decided to take some liberties with his look lmao

length: 2.5k (no clue how that happened...)

warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), oral f receiving, sugar daddy relationship, alcohol consumption, possessiveness <3

You’d never done anything like this before— you made that perfectly clear to him, to the point that you wondered if it would scare him off.  But it didn’t, which was equal parts comforting and concerning.

However, even with all your complex emotions towards the idea, you agreed to it.  Just come to dinner with me, he’d told you, it doesn’t have to be weird.  Nothing has to happen— it’s just dinner, no expectations.

That relieved you enough to get you to go out with him.  He’s not expecting anything, you promised yourself, it’s just dinner.  Nothing has to happen.

But you still put on your nicest lingerie under your dress… just in case.

The whole thing made you feel out of place, honestly: you’d never been to a restaurant this nice, you’d never worn a designer gown before (let alone one that someone had picked out and sent to you for your first date), you’d never been picked up by a private driver—you didn’t even know what to do when you got to the restaurant, so you were a bit relieved (if certainly surprised) when you walked in and they seemed to already know you.

The host greeted you by name, took your coat, and informed you that Mr. Lord is already waiting for you at his usual table.  That made you wonder if a girl like you was his usual guest.

Your heart picked up its pace when you saw him from across the restaurant; he looked like he fit right in, with his hair slicked back in a black tux.  He looked so natural like that, you couldn’t even imagine him without a tux.  (Well, you could, but you were trying not to.)

But, your heart didn’t really start racing until he saw you.  His eyes lit up, and a tilted smile filled his face as he stood to greet you.

“Don’t you look gorgeous!” he purred, leaning in to kiss your cheek as you approached— even that caught you off-guard, but you realized it wasn’t meant to be especially flirtatious, it was just one of those rich people greetings.  Then again, the arm that reached around you so his hand could rest momentarily on your lower back felt a bit more than friendly.  “You like the dress?”

“Y-yes, thank you,” you smiled nervously as you looked down at the floor-length black gown again, “it’s beautiful.  And more comfortable than it looks.”

He laughed a bit, squeezing your arm briefly before gesturing for you to take your seat.  One waiter was already pouring your water and another was draping a white napkin over your lap and pushing in your seat;  “White or red, miss?” the one pouring drinks asked.

“O-oh, um—” you began, but Maxwell interrupted.

“Why don’t you bring her a glass of the ’61 Chateau Haut-Brion?” he suggested.  “To go with mine.”

“Of course, sir,” the waiter nodded, and soon him and his fellow servers departed.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Maxwell addressed you again, “the house wines are fine— but I think you’ll like this one, it’s excellent.”

“Oh, I trust you,” you smiled, “you know a lot more about all this than me.”

“Try not to feel too intimidated,” he assured, “almost everyone here is worrying just as much as you about looking like they belong—probably even more than you are.  The only difference is, you actually have enough beauty to not be outshined by a place like this.”

A little uncomfortable with the compliment, you looked around the modern space— so much glass and crystal sparkling under pleasantly-dim lights, with a view out over the ocean just outside the window you’d been seated against.  It was sleek and ornate all at once.  “It really is a lovely place, thank you for taking me here,” you announced.

“Oh, I come here all the time— more than I should,” he laughed.  “I’ll warn you now, you might become addicted once you get a taste.”

A brief moment passed before he quirked a brow.

“Of the food, I mean,” he winked, and you giggled a bit.

“Right— should I, um, look at a menu?” you wondered.

“It’s actually a set course tonight,” he explained, “I hope you don’t mind.  Honestly, I prefer not having to think about it— and the chef here never misses.  He’s a good friend, actually.”

“I get the feeling you’re good friends with a lot of people,” you observed, and he gave you a knowing smile.

“Should I be offended?” he asked.

“No,” you laughed, “but you seem like you’re always getting in places, always getting special treatment or private access— ‘cause the theater owner is a good friend, the executive producer is a good friend…”

“You make me sound much more popular than I am,” he shrugged.

The waiter returned with a bottle in hand, showing the label to you and Maxwell.  “The Chateau Haut-Brion you requested, Mr. Lord?”

“Fabulous, thank you,” Maxwell smiled as the waiter uncorked the bottle and poured glasses for you both.

“The first course will be out shortly,” the man explained before he departed; you reached for your glass, about to take a sip, but your date raised his own.

“A toast,” he suggested, making you stop pulling your glass closer and holding it up in anticipation instead, “to… new friends.”

You smiled and clinked your glass against his.

~

You tried not to look too starstruck as you looked around the penthouse apartment, but it was hard to hide your awe at all the fine art on the walls, the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittery city below, the vintage and baroque furniture…

“I haven’t been here in a few weeks,” he explained as he sauntered inside after letting you in, “forgive me if it looks a little barren— I’ve been in my home in California for some time to manage my work there, I only visit my apartments occasionally—”

“You have more than one?!” you realized, unable to suppress the urge to gawk, and he smiled as you looked back over your shoulder at him.

“I have quite a few properties, yes,” he nodded.  “Miami, Berlin, Hong Kong— all of these, of course, would be available to you whenever you’d like to visit, if you were to…”

He trailed off, approaching you as his eyes darkened a bit.  “If I was to…?” you prompted.

You shivered slightly when he reached up to run his fingers gently along the curve of your jaw.  “If you were to accept my offer.”

You swallowed, turning to face him properly, and sighed when his other hand came to rest on your waist.  “A-and, if I was to…” you trailed off, apparently still not proud enough to say it, “would there be… anyone else?”

“No,” he shook his head, “not for either of us.  That’s not what I want.”

He’d explained to you before, in a few different ways, what he did want.  He’d explained that he enjoyed ‘dating’ this way because it took out the guesswork, because he was too busy for a traditional relationship.  He needed a partner who could work around his complex schedule— and to soften the blow, he would send gifts to fill the time while he was gone.  All he really asked was that you stay ready and waiting for him to return— or even to be ready to drop everything and hop on a private jet to come see him wherever he was when he needed you most.

The look in his eyes certainly showed that he needed you now.  You knew that if you told him you didn’t want this— or even just that you didn’t want anything to happen tonight— he would be polite and sweet and have a car take you home.  But you also got the feeling that if you said any of that, he would see right through it.

You wanted this too.  It was sort of obvious, especially as your hands snaked up his chest over the fabric of his tux, resting on his shoulders as you looked up at him expectantly.

“Why don’t you tell me what you want, beautiful?” he suggested in a low voice.

“I… I want,” you began hesitantly, having to look away to find the courage to say it, “I want you to tell me what to do.”

He smiled a bit, lifting your chin and guiding you to look up at him again.  “Kiss me like you mean it.”

You felt strange about that wording— like he thought you didn’t genuinely want this and just tolerated it in exchange for the money.  Which wasn’t true, but then again, it is hard to turn a man down when you’re wearing the thousand-dollar dress he bought for you.

And, of course, you kissed him.  You wove your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck, shutting your eyes and sighing as he tightened his grip on your waist; he wrapped you up in his arms, slowly and gently, and hummed lowly against your lips.  There was something about it that was different from every other first kiss you’d had (or possibly every other kiss you’d ever had) but you completely lacked the words to describe it.  Maybe it was how careful he was with you, how oddly patient; or maybe it was how quickly you found yourself wanting more.

You opened your mouth slightly, letting him delve deeper with his tongue, though he wasn’t too aggressive about it at first.  It was still sweet and slow, and you relaxed further as you pressed your body to his.

He broke away sooner than you wanted him to, and you watched his eyes scan over your face before they drifted to your shoulder— where his hand was tracing over the strap of your dress, teasing that he might slide it down at any moment.  You found yourself wishing he would, but instead he brought his eyes back to your own.

“Would you mind if I showed you the bedroom?” he suggested.

“Not at all,” you breathed.

You didn’t get a very thorough tour, not when you were stumbling backwards through the door as his hands ran all over you.  He quickly flipped on the light switch as he walked past it, only for you to reach and turn it off again.  He smiled playfully at you as he broke his lips away.  “Now, darling, how am I supposed to show you the bedroom in the dark?” he mused.

“You can show me after,” you sighed, trying to tug him by the jacket into another kiss, but he resisted with a smug grin.

“After,” he repeated with a low, rich voice that seemed to wash right over you.  “But what we’re about to do, I don’t want to do in the dark, either— you’re much more exciting to look at than some boring old bedroom that’s been on the cover of Architectural Digest…”

You laughed a little, but he bit his lip as he pulled you closer to him.

“Keep the lights on,” he pleaded— or maybe demanded, “I want to see you.”

You flipped the lights back on, and he almost turned that designer gown to shreds getting it off you.

He growled as he got a glimpse of your lingerie, and you bit your lip through a smile when he met your gaze again.  “Oh, angel— you’ll spoil me.”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, making you gasp slightly as he delicately ran his fingers along the lacy hem of your panties.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he sighed, “I need to taste you.”

“Fuck,” you mumbled, “o-okay, whatever you want.”

Looking up at you, he shot you a glittering smile.  “Get used to saying that, beautiful.”

You shuddered, just as he pulled the panties down and dove between your legs.

You felt a bit undignified with him burying his mouth against you while you were standing up; your knees wobbled and he grabbed onto your hips to help keep your balance, sliding his tongue out between your lips.

“Fuck!” you gasped, reaching down and grabbing a handful of his hair greedily.  He moaned against you, shutting his eyes tighter, lapping at you eagerly.  He pulled away far too soon, and you whimpered before he beamed up at you with slick lips.

“Get on the bed,” he demanded.

You didn’t need a tour of the room to find that: you stepped out of your panties and fell back onto it, smiling at him as he quickly slipped off his jacket and climbed up over you with an insatiable look on his face, his dark hair broken out of its style by your touch and dangling down around his face.

“Take this off,” he instructed, running a finger over your bra as he balanced himself to hover over you.

You sat up enough to reach behind your back, unfastening the garment and shimmying out of it to toss aside onto the floor.

His gaze raked over you lasciviously.  “Forgive me,” he breathed, “if I can’t find the heart to take my time with you like I imagined.”

You felt your heart skip, just before he descended and kissed you again, the tangy taste of your own arousal making you moan in the back of your throat.  The kiss was filthier and needier than ever, and quickly moved down to your neck; your back arched up off the satin sheets as his tongue traced your pulse.

“I could spend all night,” he panted between heady kisses, “tasting you everywhere.”

“God,” you whimpered, “I won’t stop you.”

“And what if I want to spend the whole night inside you?” he challenged further, making you whine and stir under him.  He pressed his weight down on you as you slowly spread your legs; you felt suddenly aware of him still being almost entirely dressed while you were stripped to nothing, and it somehow only made you more desperate for him.

“Please,” you begged, feeling his teeth scrape your neck as his hips rocked against yours.  You gasped feeling how hard he was, and it turned into a proper moan as one of his hands groped roughly at your chest.  “Fuck, Max—”

“When you say my name like that, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to control myself,” he growled, pulling back to look down at you.

“Then don’t,” you offered with a smirk.

“Just promise me one thing,” he began, surprising you with the change of his tone.  “If we do this… you’re mine.”

Your throat caught on nothing.

“If you can’t handle that, I understand,” he mitigated, “but I can’t pretend that I feel any differently— I need you, all to myself.  I need to know that you belong to me.”

You found yourself nodding before you even really thought it through.  “I’m yours,” you promised as you clutched desperately at his shirt, making him smile proudly.  “Fuck, I’m all yours.”

He kissed you—not as ruthless as the last one, but still plenty passionate.  This time, you were completely sure you’d never been kissed like this.

“I want you to say that,” he purred against your lips, “every time I make you come.”

#maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut

[prolix-yuy]

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

[coastielaceispunk]

Liquid Dreams

Hello, lovelies, it has been too long! Life is finally calming down and I am so ready to get back into writing, thank you for your patience with me and all your love always. Returning by finally posting this forever wip of my favorite Pedro boy to write. This lil fic is dedicated to @lowlights on her birthday! My love, my soulmate, and forever beta babe, I love you! Happy birthday beautiful!

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F!reader

A Man’s World-Verse

Word Count:   1.9+k

Warnings: Established relationship, wet dream, consented somno, ass play, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, cum play, cum eating, lil begging, dirty talk, a 'good boy' and a 'that’s my girl' among others, silliness and softness, sleepy sex.

Summary: You help Max through a wet dream and he treats you to a VERY good morning.

MASTERLIST

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Opening your eyes barely in the early morning light, you hear distressing noises. No. Wait. Needy noises? 

Blinking away the remaining sleep in your eyes while you stretch, your fingertips find the source of the desperate sounds all the way on the far side of the king-sized bed. The light caress of your fingernails on his exposed skin pulls a muffled whimper from his lips. You pause your hand’s movement and his breathing evens out again, still deep in sleep.

As you lean up on your elbow to see him, your brain takes a moment to catch up to what you are looking at. A quiet gasp leaves your parted lips. Max is laying on his stomach, face down on his pillow, his arms underneath and hands grasping the pillow tightly. The bed sheet is kicked all the way off of his naked body and his left leg is hiked up, facing away from you. His whole body glistens with a thin sheen of sweat and his mop of hair is sticking to his damp forehead. Somehow, he has worked his second pillow down between his thighs, and as you crane your neck to take in more of him, lingering on his adorable ass, you see how the firm pillow has pressed up into his crotch. 

Little breathy whines sharpen your attention and the slow roll of his hips begins to captivate you. The welcoming pressure of the pillow surely causing such sounds. Max is humping his pillow in his sleep. Poor thing is having a wet dream. You cannot help but slide your equally naked body closer, his heat calling to you. He sleeps so deeply you wonder how much you can help him through whatever fantasy he is currently imagining.

When the tips of your fingers glide up the back of his warm thigh to the crease of his bottom, he starts to pant. You take so much pleasure in the effect your touch has on him. Even in sleep, he responds as if you are pure electricity on his skin. Then…he mumbles your name.

“Baby…please…more. I need more.” Max is dreaming about you. Fucking you. Being fucked by you maybe? Your pussy is wet with interest now, arousal finding its rightful place.

Leaning even closer, you place your hand on his hip to feel his rolling thrusts into the bed. With your lips to his ear, you whisper, “I can give you more, Maxie. Have you been a good boy?”

Max mewls into his pillow, hot and wet, drooling from your coaxing words as his hips pick up their pace, fucking his pillow further into the mattress.

You coo at him quietly to keep going as your soft touch moves from his hip to the round of his ass and then to where his balls are nestled between his weight and the squished pillow. His whines become clearer as you stroke the sensitive area beneath his balls with your knuckles. The friction of his cock along his tummy must be amazing because you can tell he is getting close by his stuttering breaths. Still dreaming, Max just needs something to push him over the hazy edge.

That’s when your wandering fingertips pull themselves upwards between his cheeks. Max looks so beautiful like this. Relaxed, responsive, vulnerable. He lets out a choked gasp when you press the pad of your middle finger to his tight entrance. He did want more.

“Good boy, Maxie. Come for me.”

Max pistons his hips so hard the whole bed shakes. With a strangled cry into his pillow, he comes for a long time. His hips continue to roll through his high and his arms unravel from under his pillow to pull his whole body further into the bed with an animalistic growl, feeling every second of sleepy ecstasy he can. 

Once he stills and takes a few deep breaths you bring your hand back to his hip and roll him towards you. Max looks up at you with heavy-lidded, sleepy eyes, his face content and satisfied, his chest heaving. You can’t help but smile down at him in his disheveled state. 

“Good morning, Maxwell,” you glance to where he fucked his come into the sheets, the large glossy stain mocking you, you wish it was covering you. Your eyes trail over to his softening cock and the little bit of come that covers his stomach, “you’ve made such a mess, baby, let me help you.”

Max’s hand grips your ass as you position yourself on your knees beside him to lean down and lick his tummy clean. His touch, a sign he is present now, makes you sigh.

“I think you’ve helped me plenty this morning, my darling,” Max groans as your lips suck every last bit of his spend off of him. His breath hitches when you kiss him lower on his hips and you look up to see that he is watching you closely. “So beautiful you are.”

Max hums as you continue mouthing at his stomach, hips and thighs, his fingers dip into your soaked folds from behind, “Oh, sweetheart.”  Max leans up to crowd your space and lay you back with his full weight soliciting a comforted whine from your lips.

“Did making a mess of me turn you on, my love?” Max whispers into your neck as if you’re both still sleeping. His hands press and pull their way down your body as he rocks into you becoming hard again. 

“Of course it did,” you counter, matter of factly.

“Of course,” Max repeats as he cups your mound making you outwardly moan. The tips of his thick fingers teasing your entrance. 

“Baby, please. More,” you can’t help but beg his own words back to him.

“Anything for my dream girl.”

Your gaze finds his at the response, full of love and lust. Max then crashes his lips to yours in a passionate kiss just as two thick fingers thrust into you. He swallows your moans, curling his fingers up before pulling them all the way out to push them slowly back in. Over and over, the squelch of your arousal fills the humid morning air. Your hips move of their own accord seeking every inch of his long fingers. 

The kiss turns feral and instinctive as you wiggle below Max and he ruts his renewed length into your thigh.

“Max…” you whine in a quick breath to his persistent lips and he knows what you need.

He reluctantly pulls back for air. “More?” Max asks already lifting to situate between your opening thighs. When he removes his fingers from your pussy, you groan, but he shushes you with quick kisses. You watch him shove his fingers, covered in you, between his kiss-swollen lips as he lines himself up with your slick entrance.

“Fuck, baby, just had to…” Max sheaths himself fully, “...taste you.” He is talking with his mouth full of his own fingers, does he still think he’s dreaming? 

All you can do is cling to his sides. He worked you up so fully he glides in easily and the thick tip of him punches deep within. Both of you are so open in the early minutes of waking, trading groans and sighs when he starts to move. The soft leisure turns to heavy purpose as your bodies awaken together. 

As he finds his pace, Max removes his fingers from between his lips, his tongue chasing the taste of you that lingers, and slides his hand between your warm bodies to circle their slickness over your swollen clit. His slack-jawed expression makes you clench around him as his touch dips lower to feel how you open to take all of him. Max’s groan of approval makes your eyes roll back and once he is satisfied his fingers find your clit again with more pressure.

“You feel so good, so tight, around me, baby,” Max grunts with a couple of particularly deep thrusts moving you up the bed into your pillows. 

Plummeting towards your climax you pull Max down to you, locking your ankles above his ass and start to meet him thrust for thrust pulling him even deeper. He falls to his elbow, his other hand trapped, and his lips seek the plushness of your breasts that have pressed into him under his weight. Sloppy, wet open mouth kisses stain your cleavage and when he pulls one of your nipples into his mouth with a harsh suck, you cry out his name.

“Max! Ma-Max…oh fu-” you cut yourself off with an indulgent moan that has you gasping for air as your orgasm rips through your whole body. Your toes tingle, your fingers ache with how tight you fisted Max’s hair, and you feel as if you are waking up all over again rolling through the haze of your climax. 

“That's my girl, squeezing me so good, so wet, so warm,” Max continues to grind deep into you as you ride out the last waves of your orgasm whimpering and whining under him. You know he is starting to seek his second release when he begins to murmur and mumble into your neck. Both of his hands now grasp the back of your neck, your ass, and your hips, anything he can hold to feel all of you. He always needs more and you are the one to give it to him.

Through his loud panting and heavy breathing he doesn’t hear your question, “wha..?” He's just so caught up in you.

“I said,” you pant into his ear as he picks up his pace again, “Tell me. Tell me what you were dreaming about.”

As if the memory crashes into him all at once Max whines and his hips start to falter.

“Tell. Me.” You whisper and nibble his earlobe.

Now he is frantic and gasps for air, “I…baby…you…I was where you are right now.”

“Ohh? I was filling you up?”

“Y-yes,” Max whimpers as your hands travel back down to his ass, his high pitched sounds telling you he's nearly there again. 

“Taking me so good…right…” your middle finger trails between his cheeks again and really presses to his puckered entrance, “here?”

“YES, baby, oh god!”

Max comes hard inside of you, his final thrusts seeking more pressure from your finger and when it slipped just inside the tiniest bit, he was thrown over the edge with a husky shout. A few more lazy thrusts and he's done painting your pussy, his come leaking out of you around his softening cock staining the sheet below. 

He pulls out of you with a soft grunt and collapses comically next to you on the bed falling partially on his first, still wet spot. The way he pulls his arms into himself and his scrunched face makes you giggle. As he laughs too you roll over to lay on his chest. He holds you in his arms catching his breath as you draw patterns into his chest freckles.

“Is that something you would like me to do, Max? Something you would like to do together?” You quietly speak after a stretch of silence watching the rising sun’s rays peek through the blinds. 

“If you are comfortable with trying, my darling, I think I would like it very much.”

“I love doing everything with you, Maxie.”

He smiles at you softly, stroking your sex-wild hair from your face. His sleepy face is now bright with love and possibility.

“My dream girl.”

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This may lead to another fic....

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[xdaddysprincessxx]

The Year Max Lord’s Wish Came True

Moodboard by me!

Max Lord x teacher f reader

Merry late Christmas angel!! @iamasaddie I hope this is everything you wanted! I loved writing this! It’s my first time writing Max so a tad nervous but as a fellow Max Lord lover, I hope I captured him just right ❤️

The prompt: Max tried to get his life back together, working doubles at a law firm. He has no time for anything again, even his son, but the pretty young thing from Alistairs school makes sure he isn’t sad. One day Max forgets to pick Alistair up so reader takes him home herself and decides to make sure Max isn’t sad and tired too.

Warnings: Dom!Max, p in v (wrap that dick friends!), age gap (48,26), daddy kink, sprinkle of belly humping, food, spanking, nipple sucking, praise, sprinkle of degradation, little bit of miscommunication/assuming, ends on a sweet note, alistairs room is on the other side of the apartment he was asleep with a sound machine on and door closed he heard nothing. Not beta’d, very lightly edited; any mistakes are mine! If I missed anything lmk!❤️❤️

Words: 3714

Maxwell Lord, the king of infomercials! What a joke. He isn’t the king of anything. He’s a failure. His marriage failed, his oil business failed. He has even failed his son. That one is what hurts his heart the most. His son, Alistair, is his world. The human embodiment of his own heart outside of his body.

After the dream stone debacle, most of society had practically shunned him. He apologized and continues to pay the price for the wrongs he committed. But luckily for him he still had a few fans. One of those fans, Mr Jackson Smith, just so happened to own a law firm and extended a job opportunity to Max. He is forever grateful for Mr Smith hiring him and showing him basic human decency when a good majority of the world refuses to move on from his past actions. Now he lives in a small two bedroom apartment where he has Alistair full time. The young boy just started kindergarten this year, going full day so Max can work while he’s at school.

Christmas is right around the corner and Max has been swamped at work, having to bring home a lot of it to finish, losing sleep to stay up and work. He’s hoping to close a few cases soon and be able to take off a couple of weeks for the holidays and spend as much time as he can with his son. Being a single dad, Max drops Alistair off every morning and is in the pick up line at 2:45pm every afternoon. This past week though he’s been struggling to make it there on time. Alistair’s teacher is always standing outside to greet the kids every morning and is there every afternoon. No matter how late Max is running, she always gives him the biggest smile and stays after to wait with Alistair. It isn’t lost on him how kind you are to go above and beyond just to make sure Alistair isn’t alone. It also doesn’t hurt how beautiful you are. He noticed you at orientation, your bright eyes sparkling with joy. He could tell you truly loved what you did. Something about you warmed his heart and always seemed to make his blood rush straight to his cock too. He couldn’t help but imagine what you’d look like on your knees for him, big doe eyes looking up at him with tears streaming down as you struggle to take his whole length down your throat, writhing beneath him as he brought you to orgasm over and over on his cock. Your beautiful perk tits practically begging for his mouth to be on them, sucking on your hard nipples. A part of him, a very small part felt conflicted because you were so much younger than him. He was pushing 48 while you were mid 20s at best. 26 if he had to guess.

It’s finally Friday, next week is Christmas. Max is so close to finishing his last case before he can officially clock out for the holidays. He decided to work from home today so he wouldn’t be distracted by anyone. By lunch time, his eyes were hurting so he laid his head down just for a few minutes to help ease the burn and stave off any possibility of a headache coming on. It didn’t take long before he drifted off to a deep, dreamless sleep.

“Alright kiddos! It’s the end of the day! Bus riders, please start to clean up and grab your belongings and go sit on the carpet, car riders do the same but go stand in line at the door. It’s Friday! Let’s have a good weekend guys!” You announced to your kindergartners. Those little 5 and 6 year olds are your world. You love teaching and your kids make your whole life. They give you meaning and purpose. One student in particular seems to have gotten quite the attachment to you, and you him. Little Alistair Lord. Such a sweet little boy with the biggest heart. Of course you know who his dad is too, the infamous Maxwell Lord. Even after the whole dream stone mess, you still admire him for how hard he worked to build his empire. You also happen to have the worlds biggest crush on him. He has the air of confidence to him that turns you on. Of course he’s also very easy on the eyes too. You’ve spent plenty of nights with your hands between your thighs, rubbing yourself raw to the thought of him having his way with you. Thinking about how he’d feel inside of you, how good his tongue would feel as you rode his face and your hands gripping those overgrown blonde locks of his. You aren’t really sure why he dyes his hair blonde, his dark roots coming through tells you he hasn’t colored it in awhile. You kinda like seeing his natural hair color show more. But even with the blonde still growing out, he looks beautiful.

As the last of the students file out to get on their buses and all of the car riders have been picked up, you notice Alistair sitting on the bench outside by himself and no more cars in line.

“Hey buddy is your dad running late?” You ask the boy.

He looks up at you with worried eyes as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Let’s give him a few more minutes okay? I’ll stay out here with you.” You go to sit down next to Alistair and give him a comforting smile. He smiles back and you can already see some tension roll off his little body.

Poor kid’s probably very anxious and worried, his dad has never been this late. You hope Mr Lord is okay too.

1 hour later. . .

After waiting and still no Mr Lord, you collected your things and Alistair and made your way to his house. They don’t live that far from the school so it doesn’t take long before your pulling into the parking lot of the apartment complex.

“Alright honey we’re here. Which apartment number is yours?”

“84B”

You give the young boy a smile, “Well Alistair lead the way.”

You walk slightly behind Alistair as he leads you up the walkway towards a set of stairs he begins to climb.

The both of you approach 84B and you knock loud on the door.

A loud knock on the door jolts him out of the deep sleep he has found himself in. His whole upper half snaps up quick as he looks at his watch and sees the time. Alistair! Panicking he jumps up from his desk and runs to the door and throws it open.

Just as your about to raise your closed fist to knock again the door swings open revealing a flustered Max Lord.

“H- Hi Mr Lord I’m Alistair’s teacher,” you say as you tell him your name, “ Um I’m so sorry I sat with him after school and after awhile when you didn’t come I brought him home. We were worried about you.” You explain to the disheveled man as he takes deep breaths trying to steady his racing heart.

“N-no no please I’m the one who’s sorry! I must’ve fallen asleep! I didn’t mean too! Please he’s my world this never happens-“

“Mr Lord it’s okay! I know, you’re a great dad. Things happen! Please it’s no big deal” you interrupt his apology to ensure him everything is fine. You give him your best smile to try and help put him at ease. His blonde locks a mess on top of his head makes you imagine what it’d look like to have your hands run through them as he eats you out.

He smiles back, feeling his cheeks redden slightly. He didn’t expect you to be at his door. It doesn’t help that just last night he had taken himself in his hand and jacked off to the thought of you.

“Why don’t you come in? Please. Let me cook dinner for all of us maybe play a board game? I wanna thank you properly for bringing my son home.”

Smiling shyly at your students father, the man you happen to be harboring a crush on, “Okay yea I’d love to stay for dinner and a game.”

It turns out Mr Lord is an excellent cook. You helped by preparing the veggies he added to make a delicious stir fry. After everyone had full tummies, the three of you sat around and played a game of Monopoly. To your surprise, it went by rather quick as it turns out Alistair is very very good at this game. Soon it was after 9 pm and Alistair was going to bed. You and Max found yourself just sitting in the living room alone. Both of you had been sneaking glances at the other all night. While cooking dinner, Max would come up behind you, his chest just a breath away from your back. You could almost feel his breath in your ear. Now you find yourself sitting next to him on the couch.

“Thank you again for inviting me to stay Mr Lord.”

“Please call me Max. I like to think we’re past the formalities by now.” He says with a chuckle.

You can’t help but giggle at that.

You smile at him before casting your eyes down to the floor, a chunk of your hair falling in your face as you look down.

“Hey,” Max says getting your attention as he pushes your hair behind your ear. His thumb sliding along your cheek, slightly lifting your face up so your eyes meet his.

He leans in closer as his thumb swipes your bottom lip,

“Who takes care of you? Such a sweet young thing like yourself.”

“I- I do. I take care of myself.” You stutter as you glance down at his lips and back up to his eyes.

Max sucked disapproval through his teeth, “Oh my sweet girl you should be worshipped. Men should be falling on their knees at the foot of your alter only to try and be worthy of you.”

Max searches your face for any sign you wouldn’t want this but he can’t find one. All he sees is your beautiful big eyes staring at him with want.

“Let me be rough with you. Let me break you apart sweetly so I can put you back together. Will you let me?” He whispers into your lips. All you can do is nod, seemingly entranced by his lips.

Max closes the small gap between you two and presses his lush lips against yours. It’s been so long since you’ve been kissed at all. Max puts so much passion behind his kiss, as he starts to pull back, you chase his mouth licking his bottom lip hoping for entrance into his mouth.

He grants you permission inside and you eagerly push your tongue in, gently exploring his before taking his bottom lip between your teeth and softly biting down on the plush lip before sucking it.

Your action caused him to moan. That little move set him off and he pulls you onto his lap, your back to his chest. His huge veiny hands caress down your torso, gripping both thighs before spreading them wide open. You had worn your favorite blue dress, made of soft cotton. Max’s lips find your neck and begin to softly suck that sensitive spot right below your ear. His hands move back up your body, grabbing your breasts and giving them both a squeeze, Pushing them together, holding them fully in his hands.

A wanton moan falling from your lips. Max pulls the top of your dress down, causing you to spill out.

“Be quiet hermosa, do I need to gag your pretty little mouth? Hmm?”

You bite your lip and shake your head no despite how much the thought of being gagged made you gush.

Your panties are ruined. The air hitting your slick cunt sending shivers up your spine.

Max notices you shiver, giving your boobs one last squeeze before running his hands down your ribs to your stomach back down to your thighs.

“Oh you poor thing, already making a mess aren’t we?” He says as he begins to rub his hands up and down your thighs. His right arm wrapping around your torso, holding onto your left boob as his left hand cups your pussy through your panties.

You can feel Max smile into your neck as he rubs his nose up and down, right behind your ear,

“Hermosa,” he tsked, “what am I going to do with you? I welcome you into my home, shared a meal with you. And you got my lap all wet. I can’t just let this go. You need to be punished.”

You twist your head to look at him, mouth agape. You can barely think, your pussy throbbing.

“S-spank me p please D-“ You quickly shut your mouth, unsure if Max wants to be called daddy in a sexual way.

“Say it. Say my name little girl.”

“D-daddy.”

“Mmm that’s it baby. So good. Your being so good for me.”

Max licks into your mouth, wrapping his lips around your tongue, sucking on it as he begins to rub up and down your soaking cunt.

You let another moan slip, this one quieter more breathy.

Max breaks the kiss and removes his hand, “Didn’t I just say ‘be quiet’? You’re a teacher, no? I thought you’d be smarter than this. Able to follow directions.” He makes a clicking sound with his teeth as he yanks you down over his knee. Your dress pushed up around your hips as he pulls your panties down pooling just below your buttcheeks. One arm over your back as he holds you on his knee, his free hand rubbing the globes of your ass

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Three swats to your ass before he rubs over the spot his hand just reddened.

“Can you be my good girl? Hmm? Have you found your manners yet hermosa?”

Your mouth is hanging open in a silent scream, dying to be vocal from the pleasure your receiving from him. You’ve never been one for vanilla sex and it’s been so long since you’ve had a real man properly fuck you rough and hard just how you like. The way he’s talking to you, the sweet praise with the sting of degradation, the way he physically manhandles you. You’ve gone cockdumb before you’ve even had his cock.

“Y-yes daddy! I’ll be quiet! I-I’m sorry daddy it feels so good.” You loudly whisper, doing your best to please him.

“Mm it feels good? What feels good? Use your words baby. What feels good?”

“T-th-t -“ you stutter

Whack!

“I said Use. Your. Words.” He said as he spanked you after each word.

“I like when you spank me!” You manage to spit out as quietly as you can.

“There she is.” You can hear the smirk in his voice

“Come here baby” he says as he helps you up off his knee to stand in front of him. Max stays seated as he looks up at you. His hands running up and down your sides before he reaches up and pulls your cardigan off your shoulders and lets it fall to the ground. Then he pulls the straps of your dress down and slowly rolls it down your body along with your panties. Standing naked in front of Max while he was still fully dressed made you extremely aware of yourself and all you wanna do is hide yourself. Not knowing what to do with yourself you wrap your arms over your chest.

“Don’t hide from me hermosa, come here.” He says as he pulls your arms down exposing your breasts to him again before placing his hands on your hips and pulling you in between his knees.

His warm hands run up your sides, finding purchase under your boobs as he leans forwards wrapping his lips around your hard nipple. He lightly bites down before licking and sucking on it again. You cradle his head, carding your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you. Pleasure rolling through your whole body in waves as he suckles on your tit. Your pussy getting even wetter, unable to control yourself you push your body against his, grinding your pussy ever so slightly against his belly, desperate for relief.

Max makes a wet popping sound as he releases your nipple, “Mm does that feel good honey? So good you have to hump my belly like a bitch in heat?” He says in a condescending way. He knows it makes you feel good, his own cock painfully hard needing to feel you before he cums in his pants. You look down at his shirt and see you left a wet spot on his shirt from where you were humping him. His eyes follow yours, seeing the mess you made.

“Oh mierda hermosa, me hiciste un desastre,”

(Oh shit beautiful, you made a mess all over me)

“Come here I need to be inside you baby”

Max pulls you down and lays you on the couch as he gets up and pulls his pants down and pulls his shirt off. His thick cock bobs, the tip an angry red. Your mouth salivating, wanting to take him in your mouth. He crawls on top of you, you pull his face towards yours as you kiss him. Max takes himself in hand and begins to rub his cock through your folds, gathering your slick on his dick before slowly pushing into you. You moan into his mouth, already feeling the stretch of his cock. Max slowly, achingly slowly pushes all the way in to the hilt. Letting out a deep grunt as he bottoms out inside of you. Letting his dick throb inside of you as he grinds deep, causing your mouth to drop open as you let out a soft ‘Oh’.

The weight of him on top of you, the fullness of having him inside you, all you can do is take what he gives you.

Max covers your mouth with his hand as he brings his face close to yours, “gotta be quiet baby, just take it. You can take it honey,” he says as he begins to ram his cock in and out of you. Your whole body lit up, a fire set ablaze under your skin. You can feel your whole body heat up as you hang onto to him, biting down on your lip.

“Just feel it baby, feel every fucking inch little girl,” he grunts as he doubles his efforts in pounding your pussy. His hand gripping your face harder, tears falling from your eyes from the sweet pain from his grip on your face and the divine ecstasy his cock gives you. Max reaches down with his free hand, his thumb finding your clit. He starts rubbing circles on your nub, heightening the already euphoric feeling he was giving you. It took no time before you could feel your inevitable orgasm approaching.

“Mmx m comin” your words muffled but max heard you loud and clear.

“Yea baby I know. I can feel you sweet girl, oh god does my thick cock feel good stuffed inside this sweet cunt? Huh? Who makes this sweet little cunt cum?”

Max moves his hand and drops his face into the nook of your neck. Your face next to his ear, “You daddy oh god you. You make me cum ooohh oh fuck daddy I - I. . . “ you say in a rushed whisper as your orgasm washes over you. Your pussy gushing, the pressure of your orgasm pushing Max out.

Max’s eyes roll back as he grunts in your ear, feeling your pussy try to push him out as it squeezes the fuck out of his cock. He continues pounding into you, his own orgasm so close.

Soon his thrusts start to stutter as he paints your walls with his thick load. You can feel his warm cum coat your insides. Max comes to a stop, resting his forehead on yours. The two of you breathing hard as you come down from your high.

Max looks down at where your bodies are connected, his softening cock slipping out. He sits back on his legs to watch his cum leak out of your abused pussy.

“So goddamn beautiful honey,” he says with a smirk before leaning down to kiss your sensitive clit. The kiss causes your whole body to shake, you try to close your legs but Max holds them open, “nuh uh hermosa, let me admire you. Such a sweet good girl for me.”

Max gets up and goes down the hallway. Unsure of what to do or where he went, you get up and start getting dressed. Feeling used a bit and confused as to why he just got up and walked away, you decide to just sneak out as you pull your dress up.

Max walks back into the living room to see you up and dressed, your back to him.

“H-hey let me at least clean you up hermosa.”

Max’s soft voice making you jump as you turn around to see him standing there in boxers holding a wet washcloth.

“Oh! Oh I um oh I am so sorry. I thought you went to bed or something. And wanted me to go.” You say shyly as you look down feeling embarrassed.

“Why would I leave you? Tonight has been one of the best nights I’ve had in years. I’ve really enjoyed your company. And the sex was well it was amazing,” he says with a shy chuckle.

You smile at him realizing the little miscommunication, “I’m sorry Max I’ve been used before. I shouldn’t have just assumed you’d do the same. Tonight has been lovely. Truly. I enjoyed spending time with you.”

You walk over to him, taking his free hand in yours as you reach up on your tip toes and kiss him on the cheek.

“Maybe we can do this again?”

“I’d love that hermosa.”

You and Max smile at each other, feeling a deep, warmth inside excited for the future.

A/n: I hope this was good and you enjoyed! It was fun to write! Love you angel!! @iamasaddie ❤️❤️

#iamasaddie #merry chrysler #max lord #max lord x reader #max lord smut #dom!Max lord #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe