#Maxwell Lord x female reader

[wardenparker]

In the Heights, part 1

Maxwell Lord x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 17.5k   Warnings: Cursing. Alcohol/food consumption, single dad Max, mention of divorce and unhappy marriage, probably inaccurate portrayal of being a high school student in the 60s, yearning, mutual pining, friends to lovers, the love is requited they're just idiots, the one that got away, high school crush, poor communication, mistaken sexuality assumptions, people being skeptical about Max, reader is full of sunshine, tipsy behaviours. Summary: A long time ago in a life that seems completely forgotten, you had a crush on your classmate Max Lorenzano. The world has changed a lot since then - but when you discover that your old friend is your new neighbor, it seems like some things have stayed the same after all. (This story contains flashbacks.) Notes: Part 1 of 2! I won't lie to you, guys. I love Max Lord. I love him in a way that is probably not healthy at all, so Keri has once again humored me and allowed for a little One That Got Away story with this sad puppy of a man. Also, I apologize for any errors I may have missed in editing. Cold medicine and being sleepy is a bad combo.

The sight of a moving truck isn't odd in any part of New York City. People come and go from these buildings so quickly that some people never bother to get to know their neighbors at all. The only reason you'd really noticed the one this morning was because it was out front when you were leaving for work and causing a little bit of a commotion with traffic. You'd skirted it and strode across the street to grab your usual cup of coffee and bagel with cream cheese from the bodega across the street before hitting the subway. Midtown doesn't seem far when you get to just sit and read during your commute, and you've never minded. But you tuck away the information about having a new neighbor and consider baking a batch of welcome cookies for them when you get home from the office tonight - it seems like the neighborly thing to do. You can take the girl out of the small town, but you can't take the small town out of the girl.

******

Max sighs as he hauls the last box up the stairs. Alistair has already started unpacking his room, and thank God he managed to pay the moving company to at least get the large items upstairs to the third floor wall up, but then the rest of the boxes had been left on the curb when they had figured out where they knew him from. He’s just lucky they didn’t take what he had with them, but it was again a reminder of how he had fucked up. New York is supposed to be a fresh start, a new beginning, but he doesn’t know if that’s possible for him.

The positive of someplace busy like New York was supposed to be that people would ignore or look past him. They always say New Yorkers are too busy to bother with their neighbors, and that’s something he wanted this time. To just blend into the background if he could so that Alistair could have a fighting chance and not be despised because of what he had done. Alistair, for the most part, remains as optimistic and sweet as ever. He knows that people are upset with his Daddy but his love never wavers. It’s enough to push him through the bad days, thank god, and to remind him that he’s doing this for a good reason. Starting over is for his son. He will find a way - any way - to make this work.

Things are different than D.C., the energy is different. He’s reminded of the days that he was in school, hopeful for the future. Max Lorenzano was teased and bullied in school, made fun of because of his poverty, his weird foods that he ate, the holes in his shoes, and his proclivity for learning. It had been his first life lessons, but the bullying in school was better than the beatings at home. Unsure of why he is thinking about those things, he takes the first load of boxes to the trash chute.

****

It’s sometime after dinner that the batch of chocolate chip cookies you put together are finally cool enough and ready to pack up. Stacking them neatly on a plate, wrapping it in cling film, and tying it up with ribbon, you head across the hall to meet the folks that just moved into Mrs. Cristian’s old place. An empty box marked Toys in the trash chute had clued you in to a child being present, so cookies seems even more appropriate now.

Even though Max is a miserable cook, he’s unpacking the kitchen when he hears the knock at the door. Frowning slightly, he wonders if the pizza he had ordered has already gotten here. He had assumed that it would take longer than fifteen minutes. “Coming!” He dusts his hands on his jeans and walks towards the door. Opening it up as he reaches for his wallet.

“Hi neighbor!” The words - bright and sunny - are out of your mouth before you even look up, having gotten distracted by the Torres’ cat in the hallway. But the second you do, your eyes go wide. “Max?” There’s no questioning it. It’s not like you hadn’t seen him all over the news or that you didn’t remember what had happened. Everyone remembered. Just…most of the billions of people in the world hadn’t known Max Lord since he was Max Lorenzano in Lubbock, Texas.

Instantly on guard, he’s halfway expecting to be attacked, or cussed out. That was the reaction of the majority of people who recognized him. He needed to dye his hair back to his natural brown. When the diatribe doesn’t come, he frowns and takes a closer look at the pretty woman in front of him for a moment before his eyes widen and your name comes off as a whisper like a ghost from his past

****

“Hey Lame-zano!” Max hunches over his books and speeds up, trying to ignore the boys behind him. Knowing that it would do no good to turn around and confront them. It would just speed up the beat down he knows is coming. “Hey weirdo! Fuckin’ stop!”

The boys don’t stop hollering as Max speeds up. They never do. Torture is the specialty of high school jocks, or at least these particular ones, and Max is their favourite target. “Max!” His name is hisses from somewhere off to the side, and an arm shoots out to pull him out of the hallway like he’s a bad Vaudeville comedian. He’s almost yanked off his feet, but for the girl he crashes into in the disused classroom. You hush him immediately, hand over his mouth, and quickly shut the door so the scions of the football team won’t see where he’s disappeared too. “Quiet.” You warn, carefully peaking through the window to make sure they walk by.

He crouches down, grateful that you had pulled him out of the line of fire, face burning in shame at the same time. To be rescued by the prettiest girl he’s ever seen seems to be his luck, knowing you are completely aware of his lack of masculinity. “Thanks.” He murmurs quietly.

“They’re shitheads.” You mutter, shaking your head as the group of boys howls on their way by. “Absolute shitheads.” There’s no real reason for any of the other kids to be so mean to Max, but logic never stopped cruel people from being cruel. Max is different so they’re mean. It’s as simple as that.

“They are still better than I am.” He huffs, terrified they will find him and humiliate him in front of you. It’s a dirty feeling, to know that you are going to be here to witness his utter ruination.

“How?” That doesn’t make any sense to you, and your brow furrows at him as you lean back against the door. You’ll give it another minute or two before you both go out there. Maybe the trio will move on to another target for a while. Sometimes that target is you, but you’d take it every time if it meant they would leave Max alone. “You mean they’re better at playing football than you? Who cares?”

“They are popular.” He reminds you. “Their parents are influential. People respect them.” Respect is what he craves, yearns for.

"They're bullies." And it stings, because one of those awful idiots out there is your own cousin. But because you have different last names, most people don't know. You want nothing to do with him and vice versa. "People don't respect them, they're either ass kissers or afraid." Shrugging slightly, you cross your arms over your chest, knowing that you don't exactly sound very ladylike at the moment. You could care less at the moment, though. You would only care if cussing offended Max.

“You don’t understand.” Max shakes his head and stares at you. “Why are you hiding from them? They don’t torment you.” He’s jealous of that, if he’s honest, but he’s also grateful that they don’t. Knowing that you are too good for that, for him to even talk to.

"Sure they do." It might not be as loud or as often, but they still pick on you. "Yesterday Lewis Sinclair practically pulled up my skirt in chemistry class because I answered too many questions correctly." You shake your head again, scowling this time. "They're all awful. You shouldn't listen to what they say."

“They are right, I am a loser.” Max snorts, standing up when they have passed by and don’t seem to be doubling back. “Everyone knows it.” He’s learned that he will have to reinvent himself, become someone people want to know. It’s how he will become important and successful.

"You're not." At least, you've never thought so. But maybe that doesn't count for much in his view of things. It's not like the boy you've had a quiet crush on since seventh grade has ever looked at you more than a few times - and even then it was to ask you for help in class. This might be the longest conversation you've ever had with him. "They're mean because you're different from them. That doesn't mean you're a loser."

“I guess it doesn’t matter.” He sighs and looks down at his feet. “Are you going home after this? I think we’ve missed the bus.” That means he will get home late to do his chores. Which means he will get yelled at if his father comes home early.

"We could walk?" Neither of you lives too far from the school despite most of the town being spread out to small farms or ranches, or even just decent-size patches of land. You know for a fact that the Lorenzanos live pretty close because you moved closer to them just last summer. The implosion of your family's happily little bubble wasn't public knowledge, thank goodness.

“Okay.” He bites his lip and wonders why you want to walk with him. If it’s some sort of trick. He nods and decides that walking with you is better than being alone. “Do you need anything from your locker?”

"Yeah." Nodding, you hold up the books in your arms. "I need to swap these and grab my jacket. It will only take a second, I promise." It shouldn't make you feel so warm and pleased that a boy - this boy - wants to walk home with you, but he's sweet. He's always been sweet. Ever since he moved here when you were kids. It was a shame when he came to school one day with no trace of his accent left, but it hadn't made him any less cute.

“Hopefully they won’t double back, so you can take your time.” He doesn’t want to rush you, even though every second counts. It’s the most he’s ever talked to you and he likes it. You are nice. It doesn’t hurt that he has been harboring a crush on you.

Opening the classroom door carefully, you poke your head into the hallway to see it mostly cleared and swallow a sigh. "I think they're gone," you murmur, reaching back to wave for him to follow you. "C'mon. We'll be on our way home in no time."

“Hopefully I beat my father home.” Max huffs as he follows you out of the classroom and both of you hustle down the hall.

"Will you be in trouble if you don't?" That idea bothers you, but not knowing anything about his father, you're not sure if it's realistic or not. He wouldn't be the first kid to get yelled at or even hit for not following a rule.

“It- it’s best if we hurry.” Max admits, biting his lip. “I don’t know if he planned to stop by the bar before coming home and he doesn’t like it when my chores are not done.”

"I can help." You promise instantly, tugging your locker open to exchange your books and shove them into your bag to go home. Your mother is still working and will be for hours. As long as you're home and have dinner ready for her when she gets there, she doesn't keep track of what else you do.

“You-“ he’s momentarily lost for words at your offer. No one has ever offered to help him. With anything. “You don’t have to do that.” He promises.

"It's okay." The smile you give him at the opportunity to be helpful and spend a little more time with him, is brilliant. "Come on, we should hightail it and between the two of us we'll have everything done in no time."

“Are you sure?” He frowns, not wanting to take advantage of your kindness.

“Absolutely.” Slamming your locker closed, you grab his hand and head for the exit, feeling positively brave. Your crush on Max might be unrequited, but at least you can be his friend. Everyone deserves a friend.

“My house.” He grimaces and swallows slightly. “It’s not….fancy.” He feels his face get hot and he’s a little defensive. “But it’s clean. My mother says that being poor is no excuse for being dirty.”

“My house isn’t fancy, either.” When he doesn’t pull his hand away you just keep it, wondering why it’s taken you all the way to senior year to even do this much. You’ve never been particularly brave, but this is just…it’s just talking to someone. Right? “It’s okay. Fancy doesn’t automatically equal better.”

“Yes it does.” Max argues, looking at you like you are crazy. “Fancy is always better. It means that you can have the best.” He sighs. “One day I will have the best of everything.”

****

“You remember me?” As much as you remember him - every detail, down to the curve of his nose that he hates and the hair that he had dyed and apparently dyed back again - you didn’t expect him to remember you. It’s been years since the last time you saw him face to face. A whole ten years or more. He stopped coming back to Lubbock after a while and you didn’t exactly blame him. There was never anything exciting going on there.

“Of course I remember you.” You were one of the few good memories he had from Lubbock. “What are you doing here?” Of all the people in New York, he had never anticipated seeing you. And apparently his neighbor. He had expected you to be married and have kids, although that could still be true. His eyes drop down to your left hand and he can’t see it because it’s holding a plate of cookies.

“I—I live across the hall.” As startled as you are, you’re still standing in the hallway of your apartment building and you shift your weight nervously from foot to foot. “I saw a box in the chute marked for toys, so I thought I’d bring cookies and introduce myself.” Now that you know it’s Max, though, your cheeks are burning hotter than the early July heatwave. “Just…wanted to be friendly, that’s all.”

“It’s- it’s good to see you.” Max opens the door wider, motioning for you to come in. “How long has it been?” He knows exactly how long it has been since he’s seen you. Twelve years, two months and six days since he’s last seen you.

“Twelve years.” You answer far too quickly, but you step inside his apartment anyway. It’s identical to yours except being flipped - a mirror image that lets you know where everything is with only minimal thought. “It’s good to see you too. You’ve…well, it’s been a long time. I’m sure you’ve been up to a lot. You always had big dreams.”

He frowns, certain that you must have known about the dream stone incident. Been affected by it. “Yes, I did. That is over now.” He looks back at the closed bedroom door at the end of the hall. “All I want is to be a good dad.”

“Who says that’s not a big dream?” Carefully setting the plate down on the corner of his kitchen counter, you wipe your hands nervously and shove them in your pockets. “If you ask me, that's about the biggest dream there is. Parenthood is a big deal.”

“Yes.” He nods seriously. “I let Alistair down once, but I will not let him down again.” He sighs and looks up at you guiltily. “Do you have kids?”

“I was never lucky enough.” Something that your mother considers the ultimate failing. She considers your choice to be a career woman to be a betrayal of her plan for you. The fact that you wouldn’t just settle for any guy who would have you was a tragedy in her book. “I have a job I love, and a cat to keep me company.”

“I like cats.” Max offers nervously, looking around the apartment and wondering what you think of the mess he has accumulated. “Sorry I’m not unpacked.” He offers, eyes finding you again and finding you just as pretty as he remembered. Maybe more so.”

“I didn't expect you would be.” A smile quirks up the corners of your mouth and you can’t help being glad to see his hair back to its natural brown. You had seen the blonde in his tv commercials and on the news — it didn’t suit him. “Hell, I think it took me a month to unpack and it was just me and Dantes.” You fluster slightly, finding his eyes on you. “That’s…that’s my cat.

“Dantes huh?” His lips quirk up in a grin, something that hasn’t happened in a long time. “Like the Inferno?” He jokes.

"I named him after the Count of Monte Cristo, but he's as temperamental as a volcano." He still has the most beautiful smile, it twists your stomach exactly the way it did when you were teenagers. "You can come over and say hi anytime you like. I'm just across the hall...and even if I'm at work Dantes loves company."

“Alistair would love that. He has always wanted a pet, but….” He frowns, remembering that he had always said that he would get him one later and later never came. Another failing. “He would love it.” He finishes lamely.

"Come over anytime," you repeat, smiling a little brighter when that old, familiar crease notches in Max's forehead. "I'm sure Alistair and Dantes will get along famously." It will have the added benefit of getting to see him sometimes, and despite feeling ridiculous for still nursing your schoolgirl crush, you won't deny yourself a small, private pleasure. "It's nice to have an old friend around again."

You had been a friend to him, one of the few. The bittersweet pang of regret thumps inside him and he nods. “That would be good.” He agrees. “My- my ex-wife had animals and he- he misses them.” He admits.

“No problem.” Instinctively your hand goes out to him, touching him gently on the arm. “But I’m…I’m sorry to hear that. The ex part…”

Max can only blame himself. He had spent too much time chasing his dreams and Genji had grown tired of waiting for him to pay attention to her. He was lucky she let Alistair live with him, although it left her able to travel with her new husband. He shrugs. “She is happier and I am grateful for our son.”

“Sounds like you got the winning end of the deal to me.” You offer him a smile, knowing that transitions can be difficult. And divorces are never easy either.

“Only after almost losing him.” Max acknowledges, frowning as he remembers how frightened Alistair was, and how he had to run away because of Max’s mistakes. “But that is now the past. We are here for a fresh start.”

“New York is a great place for a fresh start.” He’s probably more than sick of talking about what happened, and you have no desire to sully this unexpected little reunion, so you don’t say a thing about it. “Definitely more to do than in Lubbock,” you joke instead.

“What brought you here?” Max asks, interested in your life since he last saw you.

“The intense desire to get away from my mother.” It’s only half a joke, and you chuckle when the corners of his lips turn up in understanding. “I work for a publishing house in Midtown. It’s good work and decent pay. And it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than editing articles for the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal and sitting through tedious dinners with whatever men my mother was trying to set me up with.”

“You never married?” He frowns slightly, unable to believe that someone would not have snatched you up.

“I was engaged once. It…didn’t work out.” Finding out he’d been cheating on you for half your relationship doomed that marriage before it could even start. You’re just glad that you had found out about it before walking down that aisle. You’re almost grateful that that girl out in St. Louis had decided to call you up and cuss you out. “What they say about airline pilots might not be true of all, but it’s certainly true of some.”

“I’m sorry.” He winces and shakes his head. “He must have been an idiot to let you slip away.” You had been his dream girl for a long time until he had met Genji.

"He wanted the world on a string." It was what he always said. It just wasn't until later that you had realized what he meant by it. "Sounds like we both had idiots in our lives. Otherwise she wouldn't have let you get away, either."

“I was never there.” Max admits. “Even when I was. I was too focused on becoming someone.”

"You'll be there for him now." You can hear him playing in the back bedroom, crowing happily over a spaceman toy. "And he's lucky to have you."

“I hope so.” Failure is one of Max’s greatest fears and he’s already done that.

"You never could see how special you are." It slips out before you can stop it, a slight shrug of your shoulders is the best you can do in pseudo-self-defense. He never did think much of himself, but the more you had gotten to know Max, the more obvious it was to you that that was a result of how his father treated him.

“You don’t know the things that I’ve done.” It’s selfish but he hopes you never find out. “I better finish unpacking the kitchen before the pizza gets here.” He knows you wouldn’t want to stay and he doesn’t want to be rejected so he doesn’t invite you for the pepperoni pizza.

"I, uh--I'll get out of your hair." The way he shuts down breaks your heart a little, but you nod your understanding. You've overstayed your welcome and he has never felt as strongly about your friendship as you did. That's just...well, it's just life. "It's...it's really good to see you, Max."

“It’s good to see you again too.” He promises, smiling slightly. “I’m sure we will run into you again. We are neighbors.”

"Yes. It's good to see you, too." With your heart in your throat, you nod and make yourself smile as you step back to go out the door. "I'll see you around, neighbor."

****

“So prom is coming up.” Max frowns slightly as he walks with you. He’s nervous because you haven’t said anything about prom and you talk about everything. He wonders if you have a date that you don’t want to tell him about. “Are you going?”

"I don't think so." Walking home together has become a ritual. Today you wrap your jacket a little tighter as you walk to block out the early spring chill and try not to get excited about the question he's just asked. No one else had asked you to prom, that's true. But you would have turned them down anyway -- you've been holding your breath hoping that Max would ask. "Can't go to prom without a date."

“We should go.” Max argues. “It’s Senior Prom. We can’t miss out on memories like that.” He’s been working on the weekends with his dad to save up for a tuxedo rental and a corsage. “The theme is ‘Enchantment Under the Sea’.” He reminds you.

"You...want to take me to prom?" You know the smile on your face is far too wide, but this is exactly what you've been dreaming of. These walks home, spending a little time at his house before his dad gets home from work, even starting to chat a little with his mother sometimes. You may not be Max's girlfriend, but you want to be, and you've made every effort possible to show him that.

“If you want to.” Max bites his lip. “I know you will probably have someone else ask you, and it’s okay if you’d rather go with them, but I’ve been saving up to buy a corsage and take you out to eat.” He admits. “I’ve been working with my dad.”

"I want to." It's too quick of a reply to be ladylike, but you don't much care about that. Not when you're actually being asked by the right boy. "With you. I want to go to prom with you. Yes."

“Yeah?” He’s surprised, but grins happily. “Then let’s go to prom together.” He nods, beaming and his posture straightens proudly. “You and me, we will have fun.” He promises.

"Yes, we will." Already convinced of it, you don't care a single second for anything or anyone else in the world right now. Max asked you to prom. That's all you've wanted for ages. "I'm going to make my dress," you announce, smiling up at him as you walk down the sidewalk. "My mother has some extra fabric from a wedding that she made dresses for. It's the most beautiful shade of blue you've ever seen."

“That will be good.” He nods. “Do you want me to match your dress?”

"If you want to." The idea is a little thrilling - looking like you belong together - and you nod. "I think you'd look very handsome in blue."

“Then that will be the tuxedo that I order.” He promises, looking forward to the idea of going with you and seeing you dressed up. For him.

It doesn't seem real that he would actually want to go with you, but as you walk alongside him toward his house it feels like the very best kind of dream. He isn't shy about wanting the best of everything, and you always encourage him, but it isn't like you're the prettiest or most popular girl in school. There are other, arguably better choices. But he still asked you. "I can't wait."

He smiles, amazed that you had said yes. He doesn’t know why, but you seem to like being around him. “We will have a good time. Dance and see what the fuss is about.”

"I don't think I've ever seen you dance." There's no reason you would have, all things considered, but the thought spreads your smile a little further.

“I can dance.” He huffs, almost insulted by the idea that he couldn’t. The fact that he’s been practicing in his bedroom by himself is irrelevant.

"I never said you couldn't!" When he pouts like that it makes you want to find out if his lips are as soft as they look but you would never try to kiss him out of the blue. Only fast girls kiss boys they aren't going steady with - and your mother warned you what happens to fast girls. Well...she's said 'And you know what happens to fast girls, don't you?', but you were always too scared to admit that you didn't have any clue what she was talking about.

“Good, because I can.” Just to prove his point, he stops walking and grabs your hand to pull you into his arms to dance a small little circle around right there on the sidewalk.

It's like a movie scene when he reaches for you, his hand on your back burning through you despite the chilly weather. You could just melt right into the pavement on the spot. "Well, look at you," you hum, feeling breathless with your heart beating so fast. "A real dancer."

“All gentlemen know how to dance.” He informs you, grinning widely as he lets go and steps back to bow gracefully.

"Then I'll have to work on becoming a little more ladylike for you before prom." A soft giggle escapes you when he bows, and you shift your bookbag on your shoulder.

“Don’t change a thing about yourself.” He protests, shaking his head. “You are just right as you are.”

"You're very sweet." As the two of you turn to start walking together again, your hand itches to reach for his so you shove it in your pocket. "The sweetest boy in the whole world is taking me to prom."

There’s nothing that he can say to that, his mind going completely blank except to repeat that you think he’s sweet over and over again. He bites his lip and tries not to look too happy about your comment.

"Have you heard back from any colleges yet?" He has talked about wanting to go. You've talked about it together, and he has so many ideas for what his business degree could turn into that it makes your head spin. But he hasn't said yet if he has had any acceptance letters so it's made you wonder.

“A few.” He sighs and wishes that he were rich or his family was rich. “I can’t go though.”

"You have to have been offered scholarships." You know what trouble he would have with being able to go. It's the same one you have which is exactly why your own mother told you to stop being stupid and forget about it. Colleges, apparently, aren't for girls.

“Not enough for Harvard.” He had already done the math, several times and just couldn’t afford it. “I have to turn down an Ivy League school because I’m too poor.” It stings and he hates it.

"I'm so sorry, Max..." His dreams mean the world to him, and you know it. But there are some things that are beyond even his grasp. If you could find a way to make the world perfect for him you would do it instantly, but that dream is still out of your grasp.

“It’s not your fault.” He swallows. “Have you been hearing from colleges?”

"No." You shake your head, staring down at your shoes as you walk. "All that work you helped me put into the applications and my mother took them out of the mailbox and threw them away." The words ring in your mind, her voice echoing in your head. "College isn't for girls."

“College is for everyone.” He argues, immediately upset for you. You had worked hard on those applications and they were really good. You would have gotten three of your choices for sure. “We can redo them, hope they accept them late?” He offers quickly.

"She wouldn't help me with tuition." And unfortunately, he knows that you would need financial help to go to school, too. "I would have to get a full scholarship somewhere, and even with good grades I just don't know if it would happen."

“If you don’t try, you won’t ever find out.” He reminds you. “Great rewards sometimes require great risks.”

He has no idea that he sounds wise when he says things like that, and when you tilt your head to peek up at him again he's looking at you so earnestly that you sigh quietly. It makes your heart ache to know how special he is to you and that he couldn't ever feel that way about you, but you'll soak up every ounce of his attention while you can possibly get it. Before he goes off and conquers the world or something. "You really think so?"

“I do.” He nods seriously and frowns as he thinks. “After- after my parents are asleep, I could sneak over and help you.” He murmurs quietly. “Apply to your top three and I’ll mail them off from my house. That way she can’t throw them away.”

"Tonight." You decide, ready to believe anything is possible if he has that kind of faith in you. "Do you really think you can manage to sneak out? I don't want you to get in trouble on my account." His father could lose his temper over almost anything, and the last thing you wanted was for Max to suffer any extra. Not for you.

“I can.” He smirks slightly and straightens proudly. “We will make sure you go to college.” He knows you want to be an editor, maybe even a writer one day and he knows that a good college will make that happen.

Overwhelmed with the idea that it could be possible, you surge forward and grab his arm, planting a grateful kiss on his cheek before you pull away again just as fast. Your own face is burning, but just in this moment you find that you don't actually care that much. "Thank you," you murmur, beaming at him with gratitude and excitement. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve such a good friend. Thank you, Max."

“Thank you.” He murmurs quietly. “You are the one who befriended me.” He reminds you. You had pulled him into that classroom and saved him for another beating.

"I should have done it a long time ago." The embarrassment of not being braver stings, but there's nothing you can do besides swallow it down.

“No.” Max shakes his head. “You did nothing wrong. We all do what we have to. You were just trying to protect yourself.”

"Still." There isn't any point in wishing to change the past. You know that and he's right that you were trying to protect yourself. "You deserve the world, Max. Really."

“One day I will have the world.” He vows, grinning at you. “And so will you.”

****

It's a random, seemingly unimportant Saturday morning when a small knock sounds on your door. You had been sitting with a cup of coffee and a muffin trying to convince yourself to work on the draft of the book that you had been chipping away at for years when you heard it. Dantes mewed at the sound like it was rude for interrupting his long morning of staring at the ceiling, and you just laugh. "No, no," you chuckle at your cat. "Don't disturb yourself. I'll get it." The prim Russian Blue doesn't move when you get up from your seat and you peer through the peephole to see no one standing there at all. Opening the door curiously, you find a little boy with impossibly wide eyes standing on your doorstep. "Well, hello." You've seen this little boy before, coming in and out of the building or on the stairs, always hugging tight to Max's side. "You must be Alistair."

“Dad said that you have a cat that I could play with?” He asks, curious to find out the truth of this. “He knows I was coming over. He said he would be just a minute behind me. Is that okay?”

"Of course it is." Stepping back to let him inside, you point through the kitchen to the cat tree. "That's Dantes. Let me get you some of his favorite toys and a few treats you can give him, and you guys can play in the living room, okay?" This is a cat who loves kids, so you're sure everything will go well, but you want Max's son to go into the first meeting armed with all the right tools.

“Okay!” He grins at you and nearly bounces on his toes with glee. “I’m excited to meet him. I’ve wanted a pet for a long time but dad didn’t have time, but I don’t blame him.” He tells you seriously, nodding for emphasis.

“Your dad is doing his very best for you, and that includes making sure you had a neighbor with a cat to visit. You’re welcome to come over any time you like, and your dad is too.” You leave the door cracked open for Max to follow, careful that it isn’t enough for Dante’s to escape, and bring Alistair to get the cat’s favorite things so they can meet.

Max had been washing your plate to bring it over to you again. Alistair had been too eager and had decided that he couldn’t wait to go meet Dantes. Max didn’t have the heart to tell him to wait, so he had sent him over and hoped you would understand.

When he tentatively pushes the door open a few minutes later, Alistair is on the living room rug dangling a toy for Dante’s to bat around with a bowl full of kitty kibble and assorted small treats for the cat and a muffin and glass of juice for himself. You’ve set yourself back up at your little kitchenette table a few feet away, though your manuscript is now pushed aside in favor of the New York Times crossword. “Hey.” When you spy Max’s head peak around the door, you wave him in. “Morning, neighbor.”

“It’s not too early, is it?” He asks, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. “I wrangled him as long as I could.” He grins and shrugs. “But then breakfast was over.”

“It’s never too early.” Not for him is what you want to say, but instead you say, “not for friends.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Not until coffee for me. I used to take all these supplements and herbs, but now it’s just pure caffeine.”

“Can I pour you a cup? I always make a full pot for some reason and never drink it all.” Up and out of your seat before he can even answer, you’re grabbing a mug out of your cupboard and pulling out the bakery box from your trip down the block this morning. “I also have more muffins than one human can manage. I guess the wind told me to be ready for guests today.”

“I’m sorry we showed up unannounced.” Max winces and looks around. “If you have plans…..” He doesn’t want to intrude on your day if you are busy. It would be easy to get Alistair to leave. He’s been promising to take him to Central Park.

“I was going to sit and curse at my manuscript all day,” you admit with a shrug and pour out his cup. “You saved me from getting frustrated with myself.”

“Oh! A book?” He asks, remembering your dream of writing a book. “Is it your first? Or are you published under a pen name?”

"This would be my first. I've been fighting with it for years and I'm still not satisfied with the second half of the story." Coming back to the table, you set down a mug of coffee and the box of muffins for him with a plate. "Alistair asked for the chocolate chip, I hope it's okay that I said yes."

“Of course.” He can’t help but huff in amusement. “Probably better than the burned eggs and cereal we had for breakfast.”

“Help yourself,” you insist, motioning to the box. Sitting down across from him like this is oddly familiar - like your high school cafeteria should materialize around you any second - but you don’t dislike it.

“I appreciate it.” He’s remembering all the times you had eaten together over the years. Including the one meal he bought you before prom.

“How is the job search going?” The few little talks you had had in the stairwell or while grabbing your mail from the boxes in the lobby had clued you in to how Max’s life is running these days and it’s an unfortunate reality. Since the incident people have been wary of him and even downright rude.

“I will find something soon.” He forces out cheerily. “I am hoping that a few places will call me back.” He doubts it, but all he can do is hope someone gives him a chance.

“I know it isn’t…Your dream or anything, but the publishing house I work for is expanding so they’re hiring all sorts of positions.” It was something you had been discussing ad nauseam in the office and had been meaning to mention to him anyway. Now is as good a time as any. “I can get a complete list from my friend in HR if you like? And I’ll vouch for you if you decide to put in for anything.”

“Are you sure you want to be associated with me?” He asks seriously. Some of the comments you have made lead him to believe that you know what happened last winter. “I don’t want to put your profession or your own job at risk.”

“I’m sure.” You’ve always been sure about him. He might not understand it - hell, sometimes you didn’t always understand it - but that’s just how you feel about him. “I know you, Max. I trust you.”

“You haven’t seen me in twelve years before this week.” He reminds you quietly, looking down at the blueberry muffin in his hands. “I wasn’t a good man.”

“I might not know anything about Maxwell Lord,” you lower your voice, not conspicuously but not wanting to perk Alistair’s ears. “But I know Max Lorenzano. He helped me get into college. Took me to prom. Listened to every story and fear and triumph that I had for years. You were my best friend, Max. Let me repay you for helping me believe in myself.”

Max swallows harshly, overcome with the glowing review of a boy who had been so ashamed of being poor. It sounds like you preferred him. “Thank you.” He replies hoarsely.

“I know it’s been a while.” But you’ve thought about him constantly, and even though you might not admit that to him so that you don’t have to have an awkward conversation with your first love about him actually being your first love, you’re not shy about wanting to help. “I’d like to be friends again. Like we used to be.”

“Like we used to be.” He nods. Friends where a shy and awkward boy had an unrequited crush on you. He had survived it once and he could do it again to have you back in his corner.

“Alistair’s very sweet.” It changes the topic cleanly because you don’t want Max to get a whiff of the fact that your feelings for him have come back nearly full force. Not that he had any idea the first time around. Or if he did, he hadn’t let you know it. Instead you put your focus on his son, the excitable little boy that he has put all his focus in himself.

“He is a good kid.” Max can easily agree with that. “I don’t deserve him, but for some reason he loves me.” His eyes drift to the living room and he smiles when he sees Alistair petting Dantes and cooing happily at the attention loving cat.

If you were bold, you’d promise him that he’s not difficult at all to love, but you’ve never been bold. You hadn’t even been bold enough to kiss him at prom. Instead you smile warmly and pick up your coffee. “You deserve much more than you think.”

“I think we will have to disagree on that.” He murmurs, snorting softly. “I didn’t realize what I was doing until I almost lost him. An angry mob, coming for me, scared him and he was wandering the streets of D.C. by himself.” He stares down at his coffee mug, glad to get this off his chest. “I would have never forgiven myself if he had been hurt.”

“What is life if not making mistakes and learning lessons?” You had been watching right along with the rest of the world while it all happened, but being on the outside must have been a very different experience than being where he was on the inside. “He’s okay. He’s safe, and he has a father who loves him. In time you’ll learn to forgive yourself like he’s already forgiven you.”

“Perhaps.” Max won’t agree with that, but he also won’t count it out. “First I need to prove that I can be useful. Helpful.”

"Sometimes it's okay to just have fun, too." But you won't push. Or press. "I haven't seen you since college," you say instead. "What have you been up to, besides having that angel of a little boy?"

“Married…divorced.” Max sighs and shrugs. “Tried to make Black Gold work. I really did. Convinced I was going to find oil.”

"There are lots of places in the world with oil. It isn't so crazy to think that you would find some." Anytime you had seen his name in the papers, you had tried to follow it. Unfortunately it seemed to be more bad news than good for the last few years.

“Except I never did.” He has made an uneasy peace with his past and shrugs slightly. “Perhaps it was for the best. I certainly learned humility.”

"There must have been bright spots." You can't believe that his entire adult life has been miserable.

“Not as many as there were during our senior year.” He admits with a small chuckle. “I was chasing the dream and didn’t stop to admire the roses.”

"Maybe that's what this is, then." The urge to take it as a compliment to you is there, but it would be conceited to think that he means you were what made it good. "Time to stop and admire the world around you."

“Admire the world around me, huh?” He contemplates it for a moment, wondering where you go so wise, but then he remembers that you have been living your dream for some time. Max just needs to figure out what his new dream is. “I think you are right.”

****

It took a couple of weeks for Max to go through the interview process, and your bosses had pulled you into a conference room with an HR rep for an hour of round table "Are you fucking serious?" about the fact that your name is listed as a personal reference on his resume. In the end they had relented. In eight years with the company you had never had a single mark against you on your file and you're one of the most productive editors on staff. If they're going to take anyone's word at all about a potential new hire, it's going to be yours. Now, two weeks into Max's time as a member of the office's janitorial staff, your coworkers are starting to take notice. They've noticed that you arrive together every morning and leave together every evening, and that sometimes you chat quickly in the hall in passing. Almost all of them have recognized him at this point, of course, and it seems like they've deputized your closest work friend to ask you about him.

Max is eager to please, finding that the work is not beneath him as he might have once imagined. He pushes his cart around the offices with pride and tries to ignore the dirty looks and comments. Especially the prick in editing that purposefully made a mess for him to clean up. Seemingly enjoying watching Max clean up after him. He sees one of your co-works walking up to you so he doesn’t stop, just giving you both a respectful nod and a small smile as he makes his way to the bathrooms for their twice a day cleaning.

It’s good to see him taking pride in what he’s doing now. Tangible results of his work being something that seems to satisfy Max in a way you hadn’t expected but are grateful to see. “Hey Kim.” She’s buzzing directly over to you without being subtle, so you slow down to talk to her.

“Soooooooooo.” She lifts her brows and looks at Max’s retreating back. Instead of the boxy power suits he had been wearing, he was wearing a pair of work chinos and a polo shirt. Perhaps a little more dressy than most janitors but it’s an effort to look professional. “This is interesting.”

“The hallway?” You raise a skeptical eyebrow at her, continuing to walk back toward your desks at the other end of the floor. “I don’t know that I would call it interesting.”

“You know what I’m talking about.” She huffs and jostles your shoulder lightly. “Max Lord.” She clarifies, rolling her eyes. “How do you know him?”

Yes, you knew, but that doesn’t mean you’ve exactly been excited for someone to come asking about it. You know what people still think of him. “We grew up together,” you tell Kim honestly. “Same home town in Texas.”

“You grew up with Max Lord?” Her eyes widen and flutter back towards the hallway where Max’s cart is sitting outside the Men’s restroom.

“Yep.” Trying to not make it seem like a big deal, you shrug. “We were friends. Now he’s my neighbor and we’re friends again.”

“Friends.” She’s skeptical about that, but she can’t deny that Max is far more attractive in person than he was in those horrible television ads. “Uh huh, if you want to keep your cards close…” she eyes you, waiting to see if you say anything else.

“What?” Her face says she doesn’t believe you, and she’s fucking right not to but you do your best to look innocent.

“You haven’t noticed that - despite being Max Lord - your friendly, neighbor janitor is a very good looking man?” She scoffs slightly and sends you a knowing look. “And just your type based on the men you like looking at when we drag you out to happy hour.”

“There isn’t any despite being with Max,” you defend instantly, feeling a little indignant. “He’s a good guy who did wrong and he’s doing everything he can to rebuild his life now.” It’s bad enough he got bullied in school, he doesn’t deserve that bullshit at work, too. “And—” Clearing your throat carefully doesn’t help you sound less guilty at all. “I…don’t have a type.”

Her brows shoot up at the vehemence in your voice and she doesn’t remind you that he almost destroyed the entire world with that wish granting trick he had pulled. She doesn’t think that you would listen and you are a good friend. “If you say so.” She murmurs quietly. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

"There's nothing for me to get hurt about." A fact which makes swallowing hard for longer than you're proud of, and you avert your eyes back to watching your shoes tread the carpet like you used to do in the halls of your high school walking side by side with him.

“Do you want to come out with us tonight?” Sensing that you are wanting to change the subject, she obliges. “We are going out for apps and drinks.”

“Sure.” It’s been a while since you had a night out with the girls - since Max appeared in your life - and it sounds like a good idea. Like having fun instead of sitting in your apartment hoping and wondering if he’ll come over to say hello after already being at work together all day. “The usual spot?” There’s a bar not far from the office that does great food, and sometimes there’s single guys from other nearby offices to flirt with. It usually makes for an entertaining Friday night.

“Absolutely.” She nods, shooting you a grin.

“Okay. I’ll just let Max know.” It will be the first time since starting his job that he’s committed home alone, but it’s not a difficult trip. He already knows the connections by heart.

“You…..you should bring him.” Kim says after a moment. “Let him hang out socially. Might help.”

"Are you sure?" The look you give Kim is skeptical, knowing that some of the girls you usually get drinks with might not be so warm about getting to know Max. And usually there aren't many guys that tag along. "Are any of the guys coming tonight?"

“There’s Brad and Dan.” She acknowledges, shrugging slightly. “It could be good for them to see him as a normal man.”

"It would be good for them to see normal human interaction." You roll your eyes, but only playfully. Brad is more than a little bit of a horndog and Dan seems to have learned everything about how to be manly from Brad. It isn't a bad thought. Getting to get to know some people outside of their roles at the office is probably a really good idea, actually. Contemplating it for a second, you nod. "I'll invite him. But if he ends up not being able to come it's probably because his babysitter couldn't stay late on short notice, not because he doesn't want to be social."

“Then I won’t tell anyone that he might come.” She decides, knowing that surprising them might them best thing anyway. You both stop at your desk and she reaches out and touches your arm, “I don’t want you to be cross with me.” She tells you. “I just wanted to see what was going on.”

"I'm not cross." Kim has always been a good friend, and you squeeze her hand back gently. "I just wish it were easier for him to get the clean slate he came here for. But you're right. Socializing will be good."

“It doesn’t help that he broadcasted his mistake.” Kim reminds you quietly. “But I have to admit, he’s been nothing but polite since he’s been working here. And the bathrooms are spotless.”

"He knows he did wrong. And everyone deserves a chance to start fresh." At least, that's what you've always said. And so far you haven't had too many people who made you briefly regret your optimism. "It's nice of you to think of inviting him. He really is a good guy underneath everything that happened."

“He’s attractive.” She has to admit, “especially with the darker hair that looks more natural on him.”

“The blonde didn’t suit him.” A nostalgic smile drifts across your face that you barely even notice but Kim surely does. “He dyed it back to its natural color. The way he looked when we were growing up.”

“And you didn’t date?” She smiles skeptically.

“No.” A thing that makes you glance away and fluster more than you’re proud of. “We went to prom together, but we never went steady or anything.”

“Oh.” She nods and bites her lip. “Well, let me know about tonight, okay?” She doesn’t want you to be upset if it’s a case of unrequited love and that seems to be what it is.

“I will.” Your nod is enough to make her comfortable taking away, and it’s about an hour later that you catch Max moving across the hall to restock the kitchenette that services this floor of the building.

Max reasons that the staff of the publishing house is lucky. The management provides complimentary snacks and drinks beyond packs of peanuts and coffee. It’s really impressive and it makes him think of what he would have offered his own staff if Black Gold had actually become successful. He regrets how he had to tell Raquel that he couldn’t pay her that last paycheck, but he had managed to send it to her three months later when he had sold his house.

“Hey.” Slipping into the kitchen to pour a fresh cup of coffee, you grin seeing Max so diligent and seemingly satisfied with each thing he gets done. Any job is good that can be satisfying. “How’s your day?”

"I do not know how some people can be so disgusting in public." He shudders and shakes his head. "The men are the worst....but," he grimaces and lowers his voice. "I do not know how some could keep their....sanitary products unwrapped when they are used."

"Women are absolutely gross." You tell him sagely, nodding with a solemn expression to keep from giggling. "If Alistair had a sister you'd see it full force, I promise."

"I am not unused to women's monthly issues." He insists. "I was married to Alistair's mom and would often buy her the things she needed." When he remembered, which was less often than he should have. It was another regret he had, but he couldn't make up for it now.

"Speaking of things we do monthly." Waggling your eyebrows at the lame segue to make him laugh, your smile spreads when you get a confused look out of him. "Some of our coworkers are going out for drinks and stuff after work tonight. You're invited, if you'd like to call Señora Ramos and ask her to stay with Alisitair a little later."

His expression is one of shock and then he frowns. "I don't know if I should." He admits, glancing towards the door of the break room. "I don't want to cause you issues." He knows that you have taken some flack since you had convinced your bosses to give him a chance. Even if you deny it, he's caused you problems. The last thing he wants is for you to suffer more when you've been an incredible friend to him.

"You're not." And no matter how many times you need to repeat it, you always will. Max is never going to get his confidence back as long as he thinks of himself as a burden. And to you? He is anything but. "It might be good to spend time with people out of the office. Make some new friends?"

"I doubt that." He scoffs slightly and bites his lip. It would be nice to spend some time with you outside of the apartments and the office. Socially. Like that one dinner that he had managed to pay for all those years ago. "Do you want me to go?"

"Of course I do." There is no possible way you would want anything else, unless going out would truly make him unhappy somehow. "I love spending time with you." Yup. That's how that sentence goes. Absolutely.

He quietly thinks about it for a long moment before he nods. "I will call Señora Ramos and see if she can watch Alistair for a few more hours." He decides and despite his worries, his posture straightens and he looks excited.

"You deserve a night to be an adult," you remind him, but the way he straightens has you hoping that he's looking forward to it now. "I'll see you at the end of the day, okay? We can walk over to the bar together."

"I will see you then." He nods, knowing he will have to call the babysitter right away before he can really start looking forward to the idea of going out with you and your friends.

******

When the end of the work day comes, you're eager to leave your desk behind. Max hadn't come by your desk to tell you that there was a problem with plans for the evening so you're looking forward to being able to just relax with your friends - both old and new.

Max finishes up his work early, busting his ass to make sure he was done and able to put all of his supplies away and be ready for you at the elevators on time. He has gotten the go ahead from Señora Ramos and was looking forward to buying you a drink.

"Ready to go?" Though you beg your mind not to brim with memories of him picking you up for prom, they're at the top of your mind anyway as the elevator opens and Max strides out into the lobby.

"I am." He had to dry his hands on a paper towel on the way down to the lobby and shove it in his pocket. "Are you?" He asks, lifting his brows and giving you a chance to reconsider. He wouldn't blame you.

"Absolutely." You would take his hand under different circumstances. As it is, your fingers twist around the strap of your purse as you nod toward the doors. "Kim and some of the others just went ahead to grab us tables."

“Oh.” He frowns slightly but nods. “Then we should hurry, no?”

"It's not a race." It does make you chuckle, though, and you nod toward the doors before starting to walk. "We're five minutes behind at the absolute most."

"Where do you normally go to do this 'happy hour'?" Max asks as he guides you out of the building and lets you turn him in the right direction.

"There's a place called Pollard's a couple of blocks away that has really good drink deals and small plate stuff. I'm a big fan of filling myself with margaritas and flatbread on a Friday night." In fact it was something of a ritual, and you're glad to share that with him if he's inclined to it. Alistair is a strict cheese-only kind of kind when it comes to pizza but there is a whole world of more adult flavours to get behind.

"It has been a long time since I have had a margarita." He admits, wondering how you act when you have alcohol. Genji used to make fun of him for being too earnest, too eager to please when he was drunk. He had switched to champagne to make himself seem more sophisticated but actually hated the taste.

"Then you'll have to share with me." The idea lights you up inside and you nudge him while you walk. "They do this margarita tower thing...it sounds impressive but it's two or three drinks each and ridiculously cheap. Best margaritas in the city."

"Then we will have that." Max grins and nods. "And you like the...flatbreads?" He doesn't know what it is, but you seem happy about having one.

"It's just fancy pizza." You grin when he sounds confused and put your nose in the air while you walk. "Fancy metropolitan pizza. I thought you might like a change of pace from all the cheese all the time."

Max groans and rolls his eyes. "Aliastair has to try something else." He pouts slightly. "Even if it's just pepperoni."

"One day we'll have him eating a huge variety. But not quite yet." That pout hasn't changed in twenty years. It still makes you want to wrap him up in your arms and cuddle it away. Which is why you immediately shove your hands in your pockets when you see it. "For now, we'll have some adult treats."

"Something other than Fruit Loops." Max snorts with a grin. "He had me buy two boxes when we went to the bodega last weekend."

"I promise." You hold up your pinky to him after scurrying across a busy street. "No Fruit Loops."

Chuckling as he rings his own pinky around yours, he feels like he's back in high school with you. Promising that he won't become friends with your cousin, as if that could have ever happened. "I want to buy your drinks and food tonight." He tells you.

"You don't have to do that." In fact, you had been planning on just paying the tab for both of you. Considering that you're the one who invited him, you didn't want him to feel pressured or have to count pennies.

"I want to. To say thank you." He shoves his hands into his pockets and concentrates on the steps in front of him. "For helping me find the job, for being a good friend." He lowers his voice slightly. "For not hating me."

"I could never hate you." Sure there had been things you didn't understand. Or times you were hurt when he lavished attention on other people. Like the girls at college that he had told you about during their holiday breaks. But hate? You could never. "I'm glad to have my best friend back."

Friend. He reminds himself that was what he was to you. No more. He frowns slightly as he suddenly thinks about something that makes his heart drop. "You- is there someone you meet at your happy hour meetings?" He asks, slightly jealous of the idea.

"There's a couple of people who always come. Kim, Jennifer, and Gretchen for sure. And usually Carmen. Apparently this time Brad and Dan are coming, too," you tell him, fully misunderstanding the question.

"And which one are you happiest to see?" Max asks, happy mood suddenly souring.

"I mean...usually Kim, I guess?" It's impossible to stop on the pavement in the middle of Midtown, but you tilt your head and your forehead furrows when he looks upset. "Why? Do you...not like some of them?"

"I see." He shakes his head. "No, I do not know them." He reminds you. "I understand now why it never...." He breaks off and shakes his head again, adopting a charming smile. "Never mind, I am eager to meet your friends."

There's a train of thought there that you can't quite follow, but you nod vaguely and keep walking. The two of you are quiet when you pull open the door to Pollard's and Kim waves enthusiastically from a place in the corner where a half dozen small tables have been pushed together for your group. "Looks like we're over there."

Max hangs back slightly, both wary of everyone's reception of him and mulling over the knowledge that you had never been interested in him because you liked women. He had wondered why you never seemed to want to take things farther with him. One of the reasons he had looked so hard for someone in college, to get you off his mind.

After giving hugs to your friends and sitting down beside Kim, you pull out the chair on your other side for Max. The group looks like they've been told to behave themselves - something you'll thank Kim for later - and you look around you only to notice that he hasn't sat down yet. "Max?"

"Hello." Max nods to everyone and bites his lip. "Do you mind if I join you?" It's important that he doesn't insert himself where he's not wanted. Something that he would do too often in his bid for respectability and investments.

"You're more than welcome," Kim insists, waving her hand at the chair on your other side. Everybody had agreed to play nice tonight for your sake. Generally speaking you're just too nice for your own good, and most of your extended work-friend group is curious. "Food here is great. I don't know if our girl told you or not on the way over."

Our girl. Max smiles politely and sits. "She has told me about the margaritas and the flatbread pizzas." He nods and looks around at everyone and wonders what they really think about him being here. "So I believe I will like it."

"Let me guess," Kim hums, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "Margarita tower?" "Of course." It's kind of your go-to anytime you have someone to share it with, and you stretch out with a happy grin at the table. "Max needs a rest from the world of juice boxes and cheese pizza."

"You have a child?" Jennifer asks curiously. "I didn't know that."

"His son's an angel." You offer, smiling at Max, who looks uncomfortable again. "He's my cat's new favorite playmate."

“Alistair is eight.” Max tells them. “The best son anyone could ask for. Sweet and kind, loving.” All traits that Max needed to improve on as an adult, but Alistair’s faith in him, your faith in him, kept him pushing forward.

“Eight is such a good age.” Gretchen goes a little dreamy. Everyone knows her kids are hell on wheels now that they’re teenagers, and she misses when they were little. “Curiosity is at a premium at that age. They’re like little sponges. And so sweet. Oh you’re so lucky.”

"Very lucky." Max can wholeheartedly agree with that. "We have been exploring the museums on the weekends and he asks so many questions that the tour guides don't know." It makes him regret not taking him to more museums while they were in D.C., but he is enjoying the outings with his son and is proud of his curiosity.

“Does he have a library card yet?” She asks, obviously enjoying memories of that age. “My youngest loved the themed story hours until she was eleven or twelve.”

“He doesn’t, but I should get him one.” Max tilts his head in interest. “He loves to read and watch movies.”

“It’s worth it.” Gretchen promises with a smile, and she picks up her menu. “No matter where you are in the city, you can always find a branch.”

“Thank you.” Max replies sincerely. “I will take him to get a card this weekend. We are planning on picnicking in Central Park.” He chuckles. “Which, to Alistair, means pizza at the park.”

“Central Park and the library sounds like a perfect day.” It twists your heart a little - the number of times you’ve thought about what would have happened if you have been brave enough to tell Max how you felt years ago. If Alistair would be your little boy instead of someone else’s. The result has been that you soak up every minute of time that Max’s son is willing to spend with you.

“Would you like to come with us?” Mac is always happy to have you with him. You make the even brighter with your company, just like when you were in high school.

"I'd love to." There's no hesitation for you. No question or even need to consider. Any chance you get to spend with Max, you're going to take it. "You guys have been spending a lot of time together, huh?" Kim asks, amusement twitching in the corner of her mouth. She had thought that you were acting a little defensive earlier because of some unrequited thing, but now she thinks you might just be oblivious to how requited it could be. Not that she would ever get mixed up with a guy like Max Lord, but you seem to have a unique history with the guy.

“She has been very kind to us.” Max is careful to not sully your reputation with telling them how most evenings are spent together and you’ve taught him to make more than mac and cheese with hot dogs for dinner. “New York is very different from D.C. and we are grateful to have someone who knows the area like she does.”

"Rekindling the old friendship, right?" It's a little bit of prodding, sure, but she's also trying to peel away at that Maxwell Lord veneer that they all saw on tv for so long and make him a real person to your other friends.

“I was very lucky to have her as my friend.” Max admits, looking down at his hands shyly. “Believe it or not, I was not well liked when I was younger.” He chuckles at how true that still was, although that was because of his mistakes rather than his misfortune of being poor or an immigrant.

"Neither of us was," you amend, not wanting him to feel singled out by that fact. "If not for Max, I wouldn't have survived senior year. And I definitely wouldn't have gone to college."

“That was a long night.” He remembers, smiling slightly at the memory. “But your admission papers were perfect.” He had sent them off like he had promised and you had been accepted to all of them, with scholarships.

"My mother was furious." A fact which makes you giggle now, so many years later. "Until it became a bragging point. She found out that one of the colleges I applied to was all women, and suddenly I was making a modest, pious choice to educate myself to be a good wife." You roll your eyes heavily, knowing that your years at Sarah Lawrence had radicalized you in ways that your mother could never have dreamed of. "Imagine her disappointment when I went and got a career after college instead of a husband."

“She should be proud of you.” Max shakes his head, still unable to believe what your mother had put you through. “I was. I am. You are in a prestigious position and working on becoming a published author.”

"All thanks to you, it sounds like." Kim is actually smiling, and Gretchen's expression has turned from curious to fond. "You know, this is the most we've ever been able to get her to open up about the old days. Normally she just glosses over any hometown or family questions."

“Oh.” He tosses you a look, hoping that he has not overstepped. “Life was not great for us, but we managed together and we had fun. Prom was possibly the best night of my life until the day Alistair was born.”

"Did you go to prom together?" Gretchen looks like she might melt at that, while Brad and Dan are clearly regretting that there isn't something less girly to talk about.

“Yeah.” Max nods and grins slightly. “It was a good night. We had fun and I still have the pictures we took.”

"You still have those?" Somehow you hadn't expected that, and it makes you light up and soften at the same time. "My mother got rid of my copies...along with pretty much everything else."

“She was always a…difficult woman.” Max sighs. “Genji made sure that she kept them when we divorced but returned all my stuff when we moved to New York.”

"Sounds like your ex-wife and my mother would have gotten along well," you grumble sympathetically when the waitress appears to take your drink orders.

Max defers to you, letting you order first and adding a glass of water in addition to the margarita tower.

Several beers, Gretchen's Long Island Iced Tea, and Kim's white wine selection later, you're all engrossed in looking through food options. The reason you like this place that is it's easy to blend into the background and still get decent service. Yours isn't the only office that empties into this building on a Friday night, and a group of tables nearby is taken up by some folks from a nearby marketing firm that you recognize as fellow regulars. It's just a cordial, relaxed atmosphere that is more than welcome after a long work week.

“They have a lot of options.” Max hums as he looks through the menu. “Have you had anything other than the flatbreads?”

"Not much," you admit with a guilty grin. "Do you want to try something else? I don't mind broadening my horizons a little."

“We could always get the appetizer thing.” He points to a sampler. “And your flatbread. Splitting it and trying more things?”

"If that's what sounds good to you, I'm in." He could suggest almost anything and you would go along with it, so this is barely a compromise. All you want is for him to enjoy himself tonight.

He nods, smiling at you and relaxing slightly. No one has been rude yet and it feels almost like the old days, although he’s still slightly upset he never realized that you were into women.

It's a comfortable evening, with people loosening up after some drinks and food. Brad drags Jennifer away from her seat to dance at one point, even though this is definitely a bar that does not have a dance floor. It's warm and comfortable and there is something extra in the air tonight that is probably just the margaritas talking, but it has you smiling and laughing even more than usual.

As the evening goes on, Max relaxed a little more. Somehow the buttons of his polo pop open and he leans back and ruffles his hand through his hair as the alcohol mellows him out. Sticking close to you and to Kim, he has tried to figure out the dynamic and it’s driving him crazy. He wants to be a good friend and be supportive of you, but he also wishes that he had taken that chance so many years ago and kissed you when it seemed like the right moment for it.

You're just too good to be true...can't take my eyes off of you...you'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much... Frankie Valli croons through the speakers in the bar, making your head jump up and your eyes snap over to Max. Like the memory of senior prom wasn't enough, that song throws you back in time harder than a slingshot.

******

Max tries to suppress his nerves, praying his hands aren’t sweaty as he guides you through the song. It’s romantic and one that he’s heard before, making him think of you. At long last love has arrived….And I thank God I'm alive “Are you having a good time?” He asks, desperately hopeful that you don’t hate the night with him.

"Of course I am." You're here with him, there's nothing realistic that you could think of to make it better. Realistic being the key. Those little daydreams you've had about going out to Lover's Lane with him or cuddling up under the stars? Those are just fantasies. "A--are you?"

“I am.” He nods and smiles at you. “Your dress is the prettiest one here.” You had taken his breath away and he was grateful that the corsage matched and his suit complimented it.

"Do you think so?" The pattern is a little old fashioned probably, but you love it. the flowers that you had carefully embroidered for embellishment and the few crystals that you managed to get your hands on had made you hopeful that he would like it, but your mother had scoffed that boys don't care what dress you wear. After that, even though you had finished the dress, you had been a little less giddy about it.

“It is beautiful. I cannot believe that you made it yourself.” He smiles and reaches up from your back to rub the edge of your shoulder strap. “If you wanted to, you could be a very accomplished seamstress.”

"Maybe I'll just make my own dresses." You beam at him, unable to contain how hard you're smiling at such a compliment. "Dinner dresses to go out in. Or even my wedding dress one day."

“It would be breathtaking.” His heart pounds in his chest thinking about your wedding day. Painfully wishing that he was the lucky man who got to meet you in front of the priest.

"Not that...that I think that will happen any time soon." Mostly because you can't picture the day at all with anyone but him, and he doesn't seem to like you that way. Even all through the nice dinner he took you to before the dance tonight, he hadn't tried to hold your hand or anything. Which is okay. It's not like you don't know that boys don't like you. But you're trying not to lose hope before the night is over.

“No, you must get through college first.” Max insists seriously. “It is important that you establish your dreams first.” Max decides that he will become wealthy before he asks you out, not wishing for you to pity him. He had been so nervous tonight he couldn’t form the words to ask you to the movies, even though he wanted to.

"I've been waiting for the right time to tell you." Deciding that this is it - this moment, this dance, this song, you are absolutely beaming at him. "I spoke with the financial department at Sarah Lawrence yesterday. They're actually going to give me enough scholarships and grants that I can manage it."

“What?” Max gasps, lighting up. “That’s great.” He lunges forward to hug you tightly, excited that you were getting to have your dream despite your mother trying to sabotage you.

“It’s all thanks to you.” You hug him back tightly, nearly giggling with excitement. “I never could have gotten it all done alone.”

"You could have." He protests, but he beams at your praise. "We will both have our college degrees in no time and I will know a famous publisher and you will know a powerful businessman."

Know. You will know each other. Nothing more. You try so hard not to let your smile dim and end up clinging to him a little harder. If you weren't so terrified of losing him altogether then you wouldn't care what the other girls said. You could live with being considered 'fast' for kissing him first if you were just brave enough.

You seem so happy by the prospect, he bites his lip and wonders if he imagines that you sometimes look at him like you want to kiss him. Perhaps it is just his own wants projecting onto you, he has a habit of doing that, but he cannot help it with you. If he had one person in the world to save, it would be you. Whispering your name, he gathers the shreds of his courage and presses slightly closer to you.

For a second you can't tell if it's your imagination or if the world really has stopped moving around you. Your vision has narrowed down to just him and he's filled your other senses -- but when does he not? When do you ever think of anyone in the whole world before Max? Sometimes you could swear he thinks of you as more than just a friend, and right now his hands grasping you a little tighter has your heart jumping directly into your throat as it starts to beat wildly out of control.

Staring into your eyes, Max wets his lips, finding them suddenly dry and chapped. He doesn't want your (hopefully) first kiss to be dry. He swallows again and decides to go for it. His fingers flex on your hip and his eyes drop down to your lips as he leans in more. "Ladies and gentleman! It is time to crown our prom King and Queen!"

The sheer volume of the announcement has you both jumping out of your skins, startling apart from each other like a cartoon and breaking the moment. You could have sworn that he was inching closer to you. He looked like he was going to kiss you. And now you've completely lost it.

Max's heart sinks down to his toes and he gives you a small smile before the two of you turn towards the stage. Cursing himself for not being fast enough, the moment is gone and with it, his courage.

******

“Did you have fun tonight?” Walking from the subway stop to your apartment building, you have your hands once again shoved into your pockets in that long-established custom of keeping yourself from reaching for him. A few margaritas each has you feeling loose and relaxed, but it isn’t like you’re not in control of yourself.

"It was really fun." Max sounds bewildered, as if he was surprised that having drinks with your co-workers, his co-workers could be a pleasant time. "I see why you like her." He still feels bad that he hadn't noticed it before, but he's trying to be there for you.

"Bars are girls?" You ask him, wondering why he gave a building a pronoun. Maybe it's one of those weird things like how cars and ships are female somehow.

"Nooooooo." He manages to giggle slightly, fully feeling the effects of the alcohol now. "Not the bar." He snorts and nearly trips over a piece of the sidewalk that has lifted up and he stumbles forward before straightening and looking down in bewilderment. "Kim."

"Did you not like her before tonight?" If he had disliked her you hadn't noticed, and that makes you feel a bit silly. But the silly might also be the couple of margaritas you had.

"No, I like her." He shakes his head, not willing to let you think he doesn't like your crush. "I think that she's nice. I see why you like her." He stresses. "I'm jealous."

"Why are you jealous?" That makes you frown very deeply, and your nose wrinkles. "She's just my friend." Not your best friend, or anything more -- like you've always considered him to be.

"I can't help it." Max hangs his head and his shoulders round slightly. "I will get past it. Support you."

"Stop." At the front door of your walk up, you swing around in front of him and put both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stand a little bit taller and actually look at you. "What are you talking about? Support me how?"

"By being happy for you." He frowns and motions towards you like it should be obvious.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Your head drops and shakes animatedly, a pout turning down the points of your lips. "I'm fine, I guess? But I'm not...happy happy."

"Because you have not told her." Max nods, understanding and reaches out and takes your hand. "You must, otherwise you will live with regret. Like I do."

He isn't making any sense, but his large hand covering yours is warm and making you fuzzier than even the tequila had. "I should tell Kim that she's my friend?" You ask, trying to understand him. "She knows that already."

"No." Max winces and shakes his head. "You should tell her that...." he closes his eyes, in pain for the lost chance, or maybe the chance that never was. His unrequited heart aching. "That you love her." He whispers.

The swirling confusion that started at your toes and went all the way up to fogging your brain stops dead, and all of a sudden you're standing up - stone sober - in front of Max with a clarity that makes you feel more foolish than you ever have in your life. More foolish than the first time you ever met a lesbian, way back in college. "But..." you look at him with resignation in you somewhere. "I don't. I mean she's my friend and I love her platonically but...did you think I was gay this whole time?"

"You shouldn't have to hide it." Max swallows and opens his eyes. "I figured it out, it- it hurts because I know that my feelings would never be returned, and I wondered if I imagined the times you looked like you wished- it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I am your friend and I will be here for you. Be your friend, no matter if I am jealous."

If the last revelation hadn't instantly sobered you, this one certainly would. You're practically gawking at him in the middle of the sidewalk as people move around you in all directions. "What feelings?" You insist - demand - feeling your heart strangle in your chest so tightly it could rip into pieces.

His shoulders round again and he sends you a look that is a mixture of humiliation, apology and heartache. "Please don't- I had tried so hard to move on from you in college, to pretend that it didn't matter that you would never date poor Max." He chokes out. "You- you have been exactly like you were in high school, of course my infatuation with you came back."

"Is this some kind of joke?" You never thought that Max would be cruel enough to pull a practical joke this personal on you, but your hands retract and you cross them over your chest like a very poor set of armor. "If it is, it's mean, and I never thought you were mean. But pretending you had a crush on me when I've spent my entire life in love with you is just cruel."

Max frowns, unsure of what you mean when he has just told you his feelings, but he swallows harshly. "I- I didn't- I'm sorry." He gulps, having completely missed your confession of love. "I know you don't - it's - I can't help it. You have always been the girl I wish I kissed that night at prom." He murmurs quietly, shoulders slumping even more and he turns to walk away, sure that you want nothing to do with him now.

It's too much to process and yet your mind gets through it at lightning speed. Fast enough with your reflexes to throw yourself through the other door of your apartment building and end up in front of him, your body is reacting a lot faster than you can even tell it to. He's barely inside the lobby before you're in front of him, and both of your hands hit his chest at the exact same time. Grasping the collar of his shirt to bring him down to you, this is the moment of boldness that all missed opportunities has been building to. If you miss this, you miss everything. And unlike prom, there is no dj to interrupt you this time when you pull him down to you and press your lips to his.

The alcohol and the melancholy fade instantly and his eyes widen, his groan of surprise loud against your lips but he doesn't pull away. He can't. Not when he has you pressed up against him and kissing him. His arms snake around your body and he pulls you close, deepening the kiss and feeling you melt against him.

It seems completely impossible for this to be happening, but he has deepened the kiss instead of pushing you away, letting you slide your tongue along the seam of his lips and inviting you inside the map the contours of his mouth the way you've dreamt of ten thousand times. Your hands clutch each other inelegantly, holding on for dear life, but you don't care how awkward it looks from the outside - you've been waiting for this moment for more than twenty years.

All he can think of is you. How you sound, how you taste. So much better than his imagination twenty years ago and even just today. Unable to believe that this is real as he fulfills a fantasy he never thought he would get to have.

In true city-life fashion, what breaks you apart is not a lack of enthusiasm, but the grumbling of a loud neighbor who shouts, "Get a room!" As he storms out the front door with his arms thrown up in disgust, as though two people kissing is the most offensive thing he has seen in his entire life.

Max flushes and looks back at you, wondering how you feel about the kiss that was just shared and his heart is pounding in his chest. “I- what was that?” He asks, unable to stop the goofy grin from spreading across his face.

"It's what I wish I had done in high school," you admit, the adrenaline making your heart beat wildly in your ears as you seem to vibrate in place. "What I wish I had done every single day. I was scared my whole life, Max. But then I finally said it and you didn't hear me and that scared me more than anything else in the world. That I could have told you and you still didn't know."

“You- you like me?” He asks dumbly, shaking his head and points to himself. “Me?”

"Yes, you." But since Max has had as terrible a time believing in his own self-worth as you have, there is no bite to your insistence. "Since well before senior year, if I'm honest. But courage isn't my strong suit."

“I- you don’t like Kim?” He frowns in confusion and closes his eyes. “Me. You like me. You’ve liked me.” He repeats softly. “Why?”

"Because...even though we were different we had important things in common. We had a whole town and our own families telling us to give up on our dreams and we worked our way up from the dirt. Both of us. You're...you're so smart, Max. And so much sweeter than you have ever given yourself credit for. And unbearably handsome, even when we were teenagers and everyone was some kind of gawky and awkward. You just...you made me want to be a better, stronger person." You shrug slightly, suddenly feeling self-conscious all over again, and shove your hands back in your pockets. "I always thought if I learned enough about the world and showed you I could be as smart as you that you might...you might think I could be more than just your friend. But when you came home from college you would always tell me about other girls and I just...I figured that if I had ever had a chance, I lost it on prom night."

“I didn’t think I had a chance.” Max admits quietly. “Believe me, I wanted you. You were just always way too good for me.” He shrugs his shoulders and shoves his own hands in his pockets. “I was lying about the girls. No one was talking to me. Not until Genji. I was trying to impress you, but you just seemed to be okay with it, so I thought you were just my friend.”

“I just wanted you to be happy,” you murmur, wishing you had been better at seeing the signs or braver about asserting your own desire. “Even if it was with someone else…even if it broke my heart.”

“I wish I had told you how I felt. Alistair could have been ours together. But I would not have wanted you to leave me like Genji.” Max murmurs.

“I wouldn’t have left.” He may not believe you, but it’s true. Some people would probably call you blind with devotion. Maybe it is? Who knows. “When you were up there…Doing your broadcast?” The breath you let out is shaky at best. “I just kept wishing you could hear me. That that might make a difference to you somehow…I guess it didn’t work.”

Max frowns slightly and tilts his head. “What was I supposed to hear? There was one voice in my head that kept telling me to be happy.”

“To remember your happiness?” You look up at him with such hope that it is almost too much, but you can’t help it. “Maybe it was conceited of me. Or desperate. I just wanted you to remember that people love you as you are.”

“To remember my happiness.” Max nods. The influx of emotions and wishes were much more than he had anticipated and it seemed to jumble together at one point but that voice stood out. “That is...something I am working on.” He admits quietly.

"If that isn't me...or you don't want to..." Looking around reminds you that you are very much in public still and you press your lips together nervously. "Maybe we should talk about this upstairs?"

“Upstairs. Yes, upstairs.” He glances around and flushes slightly. “We should talk upstairs. And I can let Señora go home. Alistair should be asleep.”

When you make it up to his apartment, Señora Ramos is watching a movie on tv without a care in the world. Alistair apparently tired himself out reading an hour ago and all has been quiet since.

“So-“ as soon as the door closes behind Señora Ramos, Max is nervous and claps his hands together. Feeling vulnerable now that you know everything. “Do you….want….” He looks around. “A drink! Do you want a drink?”

“Maybe just water.” After the amount you both had earlier, and what you have to talk about, you want a chance to clear your head.

“Water is good.” He agrees, bobbling his head and rushing towards the small, galley style kitchen that he was lucky to have. Some apartments didn’t even have a kitchen.

“Max…” Leaning against the counter, you take down two glasses and slide them over to him. “You don’t have anything to be nervous about.”

“Sure I do.” Max snorts, opening the freezer to grab the ice tray. “It’s not like you tell the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were twelve that you thought she was a lesbian.”

“I’m still wondering why you thought that.” Mostly out of curiosity, of course. Though the news that he’s liked you as long as you’ve liked him is both satisfying and a little bittersweet. You could have had something so long ago if just one of you had been brave.

“You said that Kim is the person that you most enjoyed, you never talk about any men, now or back in school.” He shrugs, mildly embarrassed. “I know that people have been….more open….than they were back when we were close. Maybe…I don’t know, maybe I thought it made sense.”

“I never talked about boys I liked to you because I’ve always liked you.” It isn’t exactly an easy thing to admit to him, but the cat is very much out of the bag at this point. “Kim has been my closest friend for a long time. I absolutely adore her. But my love for her isn’t romantic. She’s like the sister I never had.”

"I am foolish." Max hangs his head and sighs. "I am sorry." He murmurs quietly.

“Please don’t be.” Stepping cautiously closer to him in his little kitchen, you take the glass of water he hands you and have a sip. “If you hadn’t thought so, you might not have said anything. And then we never would have come clean.”

He hadn't looked at it that way and he bites his lip as he watches you. "What do you want?" He asks softly, still irrationally fearful of rejection, but also hopeful.

It’s a vague question, but the context is so specific. Specific enough that you are shocked he feels the need to ask, but grateful that he isn’t simply assuming. “Ideally?” You ask, and wait for him to nod shyly. “I want what I’ve always wanted. To be with you. But I understand if that’s too much to ask.”

"I- you know that people hate me, no?" He asks, scrunching up his brows. "Mi amor, it would be hell to be with me. Are you sure that is what you want?"

It isn’t a trick question, but you put down your water after another sip and hoist yourself up to sitting on the edge of the counter. “I want you to respect me. To love me and treat me well, and listen to my day regardless of whether it was good or bad. I want you to trust me and talk to me and confide in me and be silly with me. I don’t give a damn what anybody else thinks of you. Be a good partner to me and I’ll be one to you, and that’s all that matters.”

"I do respect you." He promises. "I wasn't a good partner, not to Genji, but I want to be one. I will be one for you." He knows that he has made mistakes, but he feels like he won't make them again. His ideas for success have changed and as long as he can take care of his son and provide him with a happy, safe childhood, he will consider himself blessed.

"Then that's all I need to know." The shy smile on your lips tips up the corners of your mouth and you shrug guiltily. "Almost all." You admit when he gives you an incredulous look. "I also kinda want to know if you meant it when you called me amor a second ago..."

His eyes widen when he realizes his slip of the tongue and his tan complexion darkens further as he flushes in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say it, but it was something that he thought often. "Yes." He admits quietly, but his shoulders don't round. "I did."

“Then that’s all I need to know.” You know your cheeks are burning but you truly don’t care. This is more than half a lifetime of pining coming to a head right now and you are so unbelievably touched that you aren’t the only one that has held onto the flame this long. It makes it special in a very unconventional way - as if you were being rewarded somehow.

He doesn't quite understand what you might be thinking but he nods. "Yes." He murmurs, wondering what he could say right now that would be interesting and flirty.

“So…” You shift slightly on the counter and tilt your head at him. “Are you sure you want to be with me, then?”

Max has had to bluff his way through many meetings, promising things that he couldn’t give the men who wanted to invest with him, or were thinking of investing with him. He doesn’t use that smarmy, painted on charm to reassure you. This time, it’s his own thin courage that has him stepping closer and reaching out to hold onto your waist as he steps closer again. “Yes.” His voice breaks softly from how low it dips. His lips curving up slightly. “Very sure.”

"Better late than never, right?" The warmth of his hands seeps through your clothes, waking up every inch of your skin and making you sit up a little straighter as he comes closer. That little smile of his is contagious.

“Only a lifetime of regret and enough stories to fill a book.” Max snorts.

"Some things are good enough to slog through all the hell for," you remind him softly. "It gave you Alistair."

“It brought me back to you. As well.” He reminds you, smiling at the thought. “But I want to do something else right now.”

"Oh you do, do you?" There is a distinctly boyish - maybe even mischievous - expression on his face that you've never seen before and it works for him. "What would that be?"

“I want to kiss you.” He admits, leaning in and his eyes flicker to yours. “Can I kiss you?” You had kissed him before, so he wants to do this.

It's beyond you to not be excited about it, even more than a little giddy as you nod and let your legs naturally slide apart to make a place for him to stand between them at the counter. "As much as you want."

He steps forward again, this time fitting himself in the space you allocated for him and leans in more, pressing the evidence of his desire against your belly as he cups your cheek and drops his lips onto yours.

The first press is soft but sure, and you almost startle feeling him press so obviously against you, but it is delicious. Instead of drawing away or jumping back or politely pretending not to notice, you lean in that much more surely and trap his hard on between both of your bodies. You may not have soaked through your panties just yet, but the heat rolling off of you is unmistakable. as unmistakable as your enthusiasm for kissing him again.

Groaning, he’s happy you don’t push him away. Instead you’re pulling him closer and his arms are wrapping around you to deepen the kiss.

Your knees bracket his hips, holding him tight against you and letting yourselves get lost in the moment. It's slower this time, deepening less frantically but no less ardently. Twenty years of wanting from both of you is being poured into this moment and you'll be damned if you're going to rush it.

He doesn’t try to push this beyond a kiss, although he aches to. He has no idea how long he leans into you, making out with you as if you are teenagers again.

No one could accuse either of you of a lack of enthusiasm. If you had not already been sitting on this counter you might have swept everything off of it just to get him to sit you here, enjoying what easy access you have to all of the most important parts of him. Access that - despite the fact that you have absolutely soaked through your panties and probably your pants as well - you don't know if you should be taking. Pulling yourself back from the edge of control and catching your breath is tricky, but you focus your eyes on him and feel your heart skip that all-important beat. "Max..." As much as you want to whine, your voice pitches down to be soft and rasping. "Is it too fast to ask if I can touch you?"

He’s conflicted. Not because he thinks it’s too fast, but he’s still coming to terms with the idea you want him. “You-“ he clears his throat when his voice breaks again. “You can do whatever you want to me.” He answers honestly.

"Then we should not stay in this kitchen." The grin you flash him is mischievous but oh so promising, and your hands slide up his shoulders to let your fingers just touch the trim edge of his hair. "Take me to bed, Max."

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Maxwell Lord #Max Lord #Maxwell Lord x you #Maxwell Lord x reader #Maxwell Lord x female reader #Maxwell Lord x f!reader #WW84 #Wonder Woman 1984 #The One That Got Away #high school crush #friends to lovers

[pintsizemama]

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

Day 24

Summary: Maggie goes to dinner at Maxwell’s.

Pairings: Maxwell Lord x You, Maxwell Lord x Named Reader (Maggie Stark)

Fandom: Marvel & DC

Rating: Mature

Warnings: language, slap, manhandling a woman (non violent)

Word Count: 638

Little Stark Masterlist

Day 23 Day 25 Christmas Masterlist Main Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

You sighed heavily as you exited the helicopter. Maxwell Lord had sent it to the compound as promised. Complete with three very large security guards who made sure you got on safely…aka muscled you into the damn thing. You had maintained a shred of your defiance by not packing the overnight bag he had requested. You had absolutely no intention of staying the night.

The helicopter had landed on the pad on top of Maxwell’s building in the heart of Manhattan. He stood to the side, waiting for you with a broad smile. You begrudgingly walked over to him.

“Miss Stark,” he said warmly, “I’m glad you could join me.”

“Kind of made it impossible to resist,” you replied with an eye roll. He stepped toward you and leaned down to place his lips close to your ear.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, baby girl,” he said gruffly. “You won’t like the consequences.” Your eyes widened as he stepped back.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You half shouted. “I’ll do whatever I damn well please, you arrogant, misogynistic—”

“That’s enough,” Maxwell cut you off. There was a fire in his eyes you’d never seen before. He bent down and hoisted you over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” You demanded angrily. He ignored you and carried you into his penthouse. You squirmed and tried to get out of his grip. He smacked your ass, and it shocked you into complete stillness. Had he really just done that?

“When you put me down, I am going to kick your ass, Lord!” You threatened.

“I look forward to it,” he laughed. He finally placed you down and once you had your bearings you slapped him right across the face. When you pulled back to hit him again, he grabbed your wrist before you could make contact.

“I’ll give you the first one for how I just manhandled you, but you won’t get a second one,” he said in an even voice. “Now, can you pretend, just for today, that you don’t hate me and enjoy a delicious holiday dinner?” He was still lightly holding your wrist. His thumb was gently circling around your pulse point and it made you shiver. You quickly jerked your hand away.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly.

“Try,” Maxwell urged. You could smell the food and your mouth watered. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to share a meal with him. Your other option was sitting alone at the compound…and while that was usually welcome, you were too depressed to be alone tonight.

“Fine,” you acquiesced. “But no funny business.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sleeping with you, so don’t even try it,” you insisted. “No flirting, no innuendos, no touching. Nothing.”

“Deal,” he agreed immediately.

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re gonna give in? Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’m alone for Christmas too,” he admitted, “and I’d hate to lose your company.”

“Oh,” you replied, hating that you felt a bit of empathy for the man.

“So, let’s sit down, eat a nice meal, and have a lovely evening,” he suggested.

“Okay,” you said quietly. You could hit pause on your dislike of this man for one night. It was really just his flirtatious nature that pissed you off, so if he toned it down, you might actually have a decent night. Though you seriously doubted he could pull it off. You decided if he proved you right and turned into the smarmy lecher you believe him to be, you would go back to the compound and reward yourself with Chinese food, wine, and a Die Hard marathon.

But if you turned out to be wrong…well, it looked like you would do something you never thought possible—enjoy an evening with Maxwell Lord.

Day 25

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[whiskeynwriting]

Greed

Sugar Daddy!Maxwell Lord x Female Reader

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Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) 

Alcohol consumption, dirty talk, praise kink, body piercings, mentions of hair, body worship, dry humping, choking, use of sex toys, vaginal fingering, anal play, daddy kink, collaring (kinda?), vaginal sex, rough-ish sex, exhibitionism, Max is a switch (this is canon it’s just fact)

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A/N: We have some Spanish in here but as always the translations will be right beside the sentences where it’s used. Maybe I am attracted to Maxwell’s accent. 

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Living for him, breathing for him, was unlike anything else. Devoted entirely to the man before you, he held your heart in the palm of his broad and dominant hand. There wasn’t anything else that held your focus more than him. To Max, you existed for him, for his own benefit; you were placed on this Earth for him and him alone. You’re here to love and be loved, to worship and be worshiped, to propel him into the greatness he’s sure to receive. And he’s already received so much. 

Maxwell was a strong man when you met him, that trait only continuing to grow with the more he conquered in life. And he knew how to conquer.

Throughout your life together, you watched him become the man he is today. You’ve seen his business grow, his mindset change, his goals and ambitions become… more. Maxwell is rarely a satisfied man. He has a rather voracious appetite for the finer things in life. But his most recent endeavors were tearing him apart, ripping open his insides and making blood run into his eyes. 

“Have I asked you?” He inquired, dilated and bloodshot orbs staring up into your own. “Have I asked you for your wish?”

He held you close, resting on his knees before you. Both arms wrapped tightly around your thighs, his hands passionately rubbing your soft skin. Little whimpers slipped from his mouth as you looked down at him, fingers combing through his golden hair. A small smile creeping on your lips, your heart beating profoundly in your chest as you stood before him. You knew what you were going to wish for. 

“I wish…” You’d cooed to him, smiling warmly while holding either side of his head. And he stared up into your eyes with a wild desperation, wondering if your wish would benefit him. “For you to be the wealthiest man on earth.” 

So much changed after that day, after that sentence, really. You were gifted with riches that had you absolutely enamored, Max’s desire for wealth finally being fulfilled. And his desire for you grew fantastically, too. 

“Mi princesa,” He’d moaned delicately into your ear; he couldn’t help but take you after fulfilling your wish. You’d just made all his dreams come true. (My princess) 

“It’s about time I spoil you, huh?” Max grinned beside your ear, biting the cuff of it shortly after. “Give you everything you want, everything you could ever need.”

“I need you,” Came your immediate, breathy return. “I only need you to be with me.” 

This made him so incredibly happy, hearing you voice your desire to be with him, beneath him. It’s what you were made for. 

The man kneeling before you now isn’t dissimilar to the one who had asked for your wish. He’s still bleeding in his heart, his insides twisting and turning under the incredible weight. At first, when he gained these powers, it was a fantastical revelation, and to the both of you. You saw him gain the Dreamstone, even supported him to go through with doing it. But in turn, you also saw it tear him apart. 

“Max…”

“Sh…” His hands are running over your body, thick fingertips touching you softly. “You look so heavenly like this…” 

In the present moment, he’s dressing you, covering your body with golden chains and various jewels. Your naked body holds them beautifully, each piece adorning your limbs and slinking down your graceful dips and curves. And you’re at home, relaxing in the house you both share, the place that offers you the most peace. 

Leaning back, he rests on his heels, still wearing his business suit. He sighs, captivated by your body. Lifting a hand, he places it on your sternum, smoothing it down your stomach. His palm grazes the body jewelry slung over your breasts and draped across your hips, and it makes him moan. 

“Hay tantas cosas que quiero hacerte.” He’s whispering, his darkening eyes fixated on you. (There are so many things I want to do to you)

Reaching down, your hands lift his jaw, tilting his head upwards so he can face you. “You can do it, Maxwell.” You sing softly, smirking at him. “You can do anything you want to me.” 

He huffs out a low moan, lowering his head and gazing up at you from beneath his brow. Sloppily, he mouths at you, placing his lips first on your stomach. Once they make contact with you his eyes close, sighing at the sensation of your warm skin. His tongue follows the lines of the gold chains on your body, licking you and the jewelry covering your limbs. And when he moans, his breaths warm you, his plush lips continuing to kiss you. 

“Hm…” It’s a pleasant hum, releasing when he sucks a mark onto you. Your fingers comb through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. 

He’s obsessing over you, pressing his fingers into the sweet flesh of your grabbable thighs, massaging you in his strong hands. It’s an incredibly erotic sight to you see you like this, to see you dressed in his wealth. And leaning up, he continues, licking a stripe up the valley between your breasts before moving to the side and grabbing your arms. 

You can’t lie, whenever he did things like this, it made you feel like an absolute goddess. Max truly got off on the wealth you’ve given him, and seeing it covering your body was like his biggest fantasy come to life. He can’t help himself, can’t stop as his lips find your hands, kissing the rings adorning multiple large gems atop them. He licks over them, kissing the top of your hand and dragging his lips up to your shoulder. This is done on both of your arms, Maxwell’s incredible groan vibrating through you when he reaches your breasts. 

“That’s so good…” You sigh airily, your eyes not once leaving him. 

It’s like he’s shattered, broken inside. Not emotionally of course, he was thriving in that arena. But this stone… the things it did to him were ungodly. But he didn’t care; he was never really interested in religion. Maxwell does not need god, he was his own god. 

Lifting himself so he’s fully resting on his knees, he brings his hands up, pawing at your breasts while he rubs his face over them. He’d bought you many things during your time together, one of them being diamond-studded nipple piercings. They were by far his favorite things to play with. 

“Max,” Comes your forceful gasp, feeling his tongue flick quickly over one of them. 

Your reaction makes him snarl, pushing forward to wrap his lips around your pierced and pebbled peak. He suckles on you, swirling his tongue around the expensive metal. Loosely, he sucks your nipple into his mouth, letting it fall shortly thereafter and watching your plump flesh jiggle from his force. He’d bought you these pieces specifically so he can play with them with his tongue. 

Max’s own hands are covered in jewelry, too, rings and chained bracelets, a watch as well. The cold metals run across your body, brushing your smooth skin. They chill your back muscles when Maxwell reaches out, fully enwrapping you in his hold. 

“Oh… hermosa.” He moans beneath you, rubbing his cheek ever so gently across your stomach. “Don’t you know what you’re doing to me?” (Beautiful)

“I do,” You respond cockily, smiling. “I can feel you.” 

And it’s true. He’s been scooching closer to you, rubbing himself against your leg while his hands and mouth worship you. When you say this he grins, groaning against you. And now that you've acknowledged his movements, he shifts closer to you, grinding himself against your leg even more. 

Again, he flicks his tongue over your nipples, switching back and forth while he whimpers, his full erection pulsing in his slacks. He’s been considering getting you another piercing, one he can play with while eating you out. Speaking of…

“Will you taste me?”

“Hm?”

“I want your tongue on me.”

“¿Quieres más?” He teases, grinning while glancing up at you. (You want more?)

“Sí. Por favor, cariño.” (Yes. Please, baby)

“Oh, princesa…” Comes his euphoric moan, lowering himself to rest on his ankles once again. “Such good asking.” (Princess)

Leaning in, he kisses your smooth mound, inhaling calmly, pleasurably. “I will take care of you.”

One thing Maxwell seemed to adore was the sea. Once he was wealthy enough, he’d recruited a crew to board his newly built yacht, entirely furnished with his own designs in mind. He asked for your opinions too, of course, as this was to be your home away from home, as well. But you didn’t mind much, didn’t have too many preferences for this sort of thing. All you wanted was to sit back and watch Max enjoy himself. 

“Come,” He grins, grabbing your hand. “Let me show you.” 

It was finished, and tonight would be your very first night seeing it. Maxwell was over the moon to hear the news, immediately ordering his staff to board and prepare for a small trip out to sea. It wouldn’t be long, a couple days at most. You wonder if he’ll choose to ravish you differently here. 

He’d dressed you fabulously for the event, gifting you with a short dress made of rich velvet, colored in a deep maroon. There was a slit up the side, with a plummeting neckline. You’re wearing black, strappy heels, ones that make you look taller than you actually are. Max loved to see you take them off, to see how much shorter you are than him. Held up by two thin straps, it was the perfect outfit for the warm weather. And what made it even more perfect was the jewelry that you wore. He put it on for you, of course, your rings and bracelets, your earrings and anklet. There was one piece, however, that he only had the opportunity to put on once. A choker he’d gifted you with. Gold in style it held a small “M”, the initial sitting beside a gemstone, your birthstone. 

Walking onto the fancier ship you immediately saw its many tiers. There are four levels, each one with a specific purpose. The very top for the captain, of course; and while Max had his license to operate such a fine piece of sea equipment, he wanted to spend his first night aboard with you. He could sail the yacht himself another time. 

The rest of the levels were for the two of you, areas where you could entertain if you so wished. The third level, just below the captain’s quarters, held the master bed and bath. It has retractable walls, allowing you to open and close them as you please. On the second deck is a main dining table, along with a few smaller hightops. This is also where the kitchen has been placed. And lastly, the bottom deck is where the jacuzzi is, along with two small couches and a few deck chairs. 

“Isn’t it brilliant?” He’s beaming, holding your hand the entire way. 

Smiling, you look around, each step forward revealing something new. There are large stones from your personal collection, things you brought home from your worldly travels. Maxwell liked to collect maps and artifacts, many of which are framed and displayed through your new vacation home, too.

“You did all of this?” He just looks at you, nodding while smiling wildly. “I’m… so impressed.”

“It’s wonderful.” Maxwell breathes out a sigh. “Are you hungry?”

“Why? Do you have something planned?” Alongside your question is a grin. 

Your partner mirrors your smile, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it. “Sígueme.” (Follow me)

While walking up the first flight of stairs, you begin to smell the dinner he’s ordered, the aroma of cooked seafood filling the air. And when you reach the second level, you’re greeted with a wonderful sight. The entire table is set, entrée dishes ready to be filled. On one of the hightops sits a champagne tower, your mouth watering when you think about the taste. The food, however, hasn’t been plated. Not yet. 

Without realizing it, your feet carry you forward, looking in awe at the space before you. What brings you back to reality is the warm sensation of Max’s broad hands, his palms landing on your shoulders and sliding down to your biceps. He inhales deeply, smiling, tilting his head downward to place his cheek beside your own. 

“Are you content with it?” Maxwell craved your attention and approval, even before you gave him the world. Tilting his head downward, he kisses your shoulder lovingly. 

Turning in his hold, you smile, reaching up to hold either of his cheeks. “Me encanta.” (I love it)

“I’m so glad.” Comes his quiet, cooed response. He smirks, appearing cocky. “We can enjoy dinner together once it is done.”

This confuses you. Furrowing your brows, you ask, “How much longer until everything is done?”

Max offers a thoughtful pout, shrugging. “An hour.”

“Oh…” Thinking to yourself, you analyze your lover’s facial features. What’s going on in his head right now? “What will we do until then?”

“I think I have an idea.” 

Maxwell leads you up to the yacht’s third deck, your bedroom. The entire space is lavish, clean lines and monochromatic colors. It’s refreshing to be surrounded by such luxury, the bright blue sea glimmering on the horizon. 

But this is only what you absorb at first glance. Because of Max’s swift movements, you’re not able to take in much else. As soon as he walked in behind you, he was shutting the door, quickly shoving the wood with his palm. He spins you around, sighing as he meets you with a kiss. You gasp into it, closing your eyes as he lures you in this way. His large hands curl around to hold your back, both of your own sliding up to his clean-shaven face. Smiling against his fervent lips, you allow him to guide you backward, your thighs eventually hitting the end of your soon to be shared bed. 

“I have a surprise for you.” He mutters against your lips, his breaths becoming heavy. 

“More?” You giggle in response, sitting down on the bed and pouting when he pulls away. But he doesn’t get far before he’s leaning back down, harshly cupping your jaw and hissing more, before delivering a harsh and sloppy kiss. 

It leaves you breathless, your wide and innocent eyes watching as he moves across the room. Pulling open a drawer in the dresser, he retrieves a small, wooden case. He brings it over to you, setting it down on the bed. He then sits on the edge, fingers running across the long, thin case. 

And suddenly, with a sharp and desperate breath, he looks up at you. “I want you to open it.”

His eyes are dark, irises wide. There’s an intense sensation of passion clouding his vision, his tongue sliding out to lick his lower lip before you do as he says. There’s a clip at the front, which you snap open, now able to lift the top of it. And what’s revealed to you… it’s not anything you would have expected. 

All at once, Maxwell’s palm is on your cheek, holding you tightly. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours while he heaves out his breaths. Whispering, he says, “I want to hear how you sound with each one inside you.”

Releasing a small moan, your bottom lip falls from its upper counterpart, your eyes fixated on the toys sat in front of you. There are four of them, the smallest of them being the one on the far left, the largest on the right. 

“When did you get these?” You ask airily, feeling Max’s lips fall to your neck. 

“Does it matter?” He’s leaning on one hand, the other lifting to the side of your neck. 

You can’t help but allow your head to fall to the side, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his lips and tongue. Inside, you’re stirring, your emotions running high but in the best of ways. You and Max have done anal play, but never like this. A finger or his tongue, sliding his cock into it more times than you could count. He really enjoyed that. Plugs though… this is different. 

“Will you let me put them inside you?” He groans against your neck, moving up to nip at your jaw. 

Crawling forward over the bed, he leaves the case of toys near the end while slowly pushing you onto your back. And when you are, he kisses you, urging your legs to lift to either side of him. 

“Princesa,” His sigh is rough and low, a smirk creeping across his face. “¿Lo quieres?” (Princess, do you want it?)

A small breath slips from your lips, feeling his own pepper your face in fervent kisses. “Yes.”

And just like that he’s removing your clothes, shoving the straps of your dress down your shoulders and yanking it off your body. Immediately, his hands cup your breasts, releasing a feral groan when he sees your nipple piercings once again. His right hand comes down while his mouth makes quick work of sucking on you, his fingers rubbing over your barely covered sex. 

“Max,”

You’re nearly naked beneath him while he’s still entirely dressed, wearing his business suit with his hair styled so neatly, his jawline shaven so smoothly. The way he takes care of himself, the way he carries himself, makes you so incredibly hot for him. His confidence was there before the Dreamstone came into his possession, and it certainly flourished once the mystifying gem consumed him. 

Slipping your panties to the side, he slides a finger into your warmth. His tongue explores you while he does it, running over the curves of your chest before flicking it across the diamonds sitting at the very peak of your breasts. 

“Baby,” Your fingers slide into his hair, back arching into his touch when the pace of his single finger becomes languid and smooth. 

“I want to use the smallest first,” He tells you, choking out a gasp when your heated walls squeeze around him. He curls his finger in response, smiling to himself at the sound of your tiny whine. “I want to see how you sound with each one inside…” 

Inhaling deeply, he leans up, removing his finger and reaching back for the case. He slides it up near your head, allowing you to look over and see them. He picks up the smallest toy, the one with a pure diamond on the end. And before lowering it, he lays out his tongue, dragging the tip of the toy across it. 

“Max…” 

His body dives down, covering your own again. Distracting you expertly is the plushness of his lips, the talent of his mouth. He drags the plug down your stomach, over your mound, sliding it briefly between your lips. It’s cold, and it makes you gasp.

“Are you ready for this one, hm?” His eyes are closed, and he’s rubbing his forehead over your own. 

“Yes, baby.” You’re nodding, reaching for either side of his face. Fingers curling around to the back of his neck, you inhale a sharp breath, feeling the coolness of the object apply pressure between your cheeks. 

Widening your legs for him, your jaw drops open, feeling the smooth and easy slide of it as it enters your tighter hole. To your surprise, you open up without hesitation, accepting it effortlessly. 

“Oh…” Max seems surprised, too. “Have I truly played with you to such extent?”

“Mhm,” You grin in return, fingers petting at the hair at the nape of his neck. They comb through his golden locks, lifting your chin to kiss his cheek as you hum. 

He smirks, turning to kiss your lips while giving the toy a small wiggle, feeling your hips sway as they chase the feeling. 

“Perhaps we should try another… you took this one far too easily.”

“¿Te gusta verme luchar?” (You like to see me struggle?)

“Me encanta.” He repeats your words from earlier, wiggling the plug again before removing it from you. (I love it) 

And it’s true, Max really loved to see your body accommodate whatever he gave to you. Putting the first toy back, he picks up the second, this gem a bright and dazzling blue. 

“What is it?” You question quietly, mesmerized by the color. 

“Sapphire.” He responds easily. “Open.” 

Without even thinking about it, you do, opening your mouth so he can insert this new toy. He twists it, rubbing it against your tongue until he’s satisfied. Taking it out, he dives down before you can close your mouth, dragging his tongue over your own. 

He then nods to you once, his bloodshot eyes looking deeply into your own. “Roll over,” Comes his breathy demand. “Lay over the side of the bed.” 

Shuffling to the left, you do as he says, all while plastering a huge grin across your face. You never knew what position Max would take when in bed with you, and honestly, you liked either outcome. It’s clear he wants to be dominant today. 

Landing on his knees behind you, he sighs, instantly spreading you open from behind. 

“How beautiful…” Reaching out, he drags his pointer finger down over your crease, eyes flickering to the side as he grabs the toy. “Take a deep breath for me.” 

Inhaling slowly, deeply, you feel that similar pressure once more, wiggling back into his touch. It’s an incredibly erotic sensation, to have Maxwell spread you open from behind, doing whatever he wishes. 

At first, this one is a bit more difficult to take. He applies pressure in tiny pulsing motions, leaning forward to kiss your left cheek. 

“Take it,” He whispers, “Take it for me…”

Opening up a bit, you allow the toy to slide in. And with the view he has now, he groans, eyes briefly rolling back into his head. The gem is perfectly nestled between your cheeks, sitting snugly inside you and even more so when he pulls your beautiful curves further apart. Leaning in, he kisses the blue jewel, licking lightly around it. 

“Max…”

“You did so good with this one.” His praise was always a reassuring thing to you. “You are an incredible thing.”

The way you sound makes him moan, makes him feel feral inside. It’s a wanton and drawn-out sound, a small, girlish gasp toward the end of it. But he wants more than that, he wants more than a simple sound. 

“Again.” 

This word surprises you. You’d assumed he’d keep this one in a little longer than the last, but he’s moving on. 

“Ugh,” Comes your choked-out groan, feeling him rip the toy from your hole.

“Too rough?” He asks with a sinister grin, leaning in to kiss your plump curves. He expects an answer but you just whimper in response. “Here,” He then says, his attractive accent and low baritone making your arousal burn bright. “Let me kiss it better.”

“Maxwell,” The word comes out as a high whine crawling up from your throat, the noise piercing the air when you feel him kiss you on the very center of your crease.

“That’s it…” He coos to you, “Say it again, preciosa. Say my name again.” (Precious)

“Maxwell…” By now he’s switched from gentle kisses to kitten licks, closing his eyes while he moans. He does this for his own enjoyment, but to also prepare you for the next gem. You’re only halfway through, after all. 

“An emerald is next,” His humid breath warms your skin. “Bigger than the last.” 

“I’m ready.” It’s a choked-out gasp, one followed by a thick swallow. “I want more.”

“Hm…” Maxwell hums, smiling. “Voracious little thing.” And then he bites you, sucking on your sweet flesh and digging his teeth in. He listens to you moan, satisfied with himself when he pulls back to see the blossoming bruise. 

“You’re satisfying me, sweet thing.” He purrs happily, smoothing his hand over your backside while reaching for the third toy. 

You’re shocked by the sound of him spitting on you, dragging the dark green jewel down between your cheeks. Without even looking at it, you can feel how much bigger it is than the last one. And to think, you still have another after this. 

Breathing deeply, you whine, “Maxwell…”

“Sh…” Another smooth swipe of his hand over your backside, his voice and touch calming you. 

Using the tip of the toy to rub in his spit, it makes him grin, chuckling behind you. His free hand grips your hip when he starts to push it into you, watching as you toss your head back.

“Mm,” 

“There it is,” He immediately says. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“Oh,” Moaning loudly, your eyes pinch shut, taking more and more of the plug. 

This is what he’s craved, your sweet symphony. While twisting the toy and pulsing it against your taut hole, he listens to your erotic melody, as if you were a siren calling him out to sea. 

“Dime,” Comes his gritty voice. “¿Cómo se siente?” (Tell me, how does it feel?)

Reaching around with his left hand, he finds your naked sex, rubbing slow and firm circles over it. And it makes you moan again, thrusting your hips back against him.

“Yes…” He releases a breath of amazement, laughing happily. “Answer me, sweet thing. Tell me how it feels, how much you crave it.”

“I l-love it,” You’re clutching the bedsheets, pressing your forehead into the mattress and gasping. “I love what you do to me.”

With a small, wet suck, the toy enters you fully, making him groan. “Just look at that.”

He hasn’t stopped rubbing you, the pleasurable tingle making it much easier for you to continue. Breathing deeply, you release a small mewl, feeling his finger once again enter you. 

“Stuffed so full…” He’s talking to himself, muttering beneath his breath. 

In and out, he pushes his finger, watching your wetness drip out around him. Your plugged hole pulses around the toy, and Max watches intently. 

“I want you to take this last one,” He then commands, his breaths picking up. “We don’t have much more time.”

Has an hour truly gone by already?

“I want you to take it for me before going to dinner; I want to see you do it, bonita niña. I need it, I need it now.” (Pretty girl)

When he takes the third one out of you, you’re fluttering and moaning all over again. Before he even reaches out to retrieve the last toy, he bends forward, mouthing at your aching hole. 

“Max,” Eyes shutting gracefully, you smile against the bedsheets, embracing the feeling. You’ve always loved his tongue. “Eso es muy bueno…” (That’s so good…)

 But he isn’t even listening to you, he’s too enamored with the task of fulfilling his own needs. He runs the tip of his tongue around your hole over and over again before laying it out over your taut muscles entirely. 

“Breathe for me.” He tells you calmly, deeply, pressing a hand to your lower back when he reaches over to grab the last toy. 

“This one,” He breathes out, settling back on his knees. “Will go so nicely with that pretty dress.”

“Let me see.” You smile, pushing yourself up onto your forearms. Turning your head, you’re met with the sight of his handsome grin. Lifting a hand he grabs your chin, forcing your lips onto his before whispering, “You’re doing so good for me.” 

He then shows you the jewel, this one with a deep red tint. 

“Is that…”

“A ruby.” He finishes for you, turning the larger plug slowly in his hand. “So rare.” And then those menacing orbs find your eyes. “I want it inside you.”

Instantly, your eyes widen, his heavy breaths and deep voice truly mesmerizing you. As he leans in, you can practically hear his heart pounding, can see the veins in his neck as he sucks in a harsh breath. 

“Princesa,” He coos to you, lifting a hand to brush over the side of your face. “¿Lo usarás para mí?” (Princess, will you wear it for me?)

“Yes, baby.” A bright smile grows on your face. “I wanna see how it feels.”

Maxwell grins, leaning over your body. He presses his front to your back, kissing his way down your spine before landing on your hips and sliding down to your ass. Spreading you open once again, he licks you gently, making sure you’re ready. 

“Baby, please.” The anticipation is making you fidgety, needy. 

With a satisfied hum, he places the toy on your sensitive skin, sliding it forward with gentle force. The sting of this one is entirely dissimilar to that of the others, as it’s nearly the same size as him. With a deep breath, you close your eyes, moaning gently when it’s halfway in. Turning it slightly, Maxwell spits on you again, grabbing your left thigh and groaning while he presses his nose into your plump flesh. 

“Baby.”

“Do you like it?” Comes his immediate return, massaging your thigh in his hand. “Do you like how it feels?” 

His passion overcomes him, his fingers pushing the plug the rest of the way in. You squeal loudly, whining out for him. And he sighs when you do this, incredibly satisfied. 

“Oh… I knew you’d sound the prettiest with this one in.” 

“Max, baby.” Chest heaving, you swallow heavily. “Fuck…”

“Hm…” Lifting his body, he leans over you again, lacing your skin with tender kisses. “You did good for me, honey.”

Alongside a sudden knock on the outer door is a voice calling out to him. “Mr. Lord?”

You jump slightly, wondering if she’s going to come in. But Max just smiles, raising his voice to shout back, “Not now, Raquel.” 

“Mr. Lord, dinner is ready.” She continues, her voice filled with anxiety. She always tries to keep him on a strict schedule. 

“We’ll be there shortly.” With that, she leaves, allowing you a moment of relief. 

He then nudges your jaw with his nose, happy when you turn your head to kiss him. And while he distracts you with his lips, he pulls the plug out, groaning when he feels you gasp into his mouth.

“Ugh,” Releasing a heavy grunt, you close your eyes, feeling him press his lips to your cheek once the toy is entirely out. 

“Come.” He tells you, giving your shoulder a loving kiss. 

With that he removes himself from you, dropping the toy into the box alongside the others. Standing, he adjusts his business suit, looking down to smooth out the fabric of his jacket. 

You’re still panting, now rolling over onto your back. Sitting up, you sigh lightly, looking him up and down. He always looked so good like this, slightly disheveled while wearing his business suit. His hair is a mess, but he brushes it back, smirking when he looks down at you. 

“You’re an enticing little thing…” Bending down, he urges you onto your back again. “Looking at me like that.”

“Baby,” Reaching up, you grab either side of his face, whispering, “I love the things you do to me.”

When you return to the second deck, the dishes that had been set were now filled with seafood of nearly every kind. King crab, lobster, scallops, oysters, and even octopus are displayed on the large table. Alongside the main entrées are multiple side dishes, as well, including steamed vegetables, Greek salad, and garlic bread. 

The two of you sit on either end of the table, filling your plates before diving in. You’re also each given a glass from the champagne tower that had been poured earlier, along with a glass of water and a drink menu. And while this is all very lavish and entertaining, you can’t seem to focus on the delectable sight in front of you. 

“Is it not to your liking?” Max frowns, noticing you haven’t started eating. Even through all of his shit, Maxwell was still a gentleman; he wasn’t going to eat if you weren’t. 

“No! No it is.” Grabbing your fork with a smile, you lean forward to take a bite of salad, but not before releasing a shaky sigh. 

He smirks. “Are you sore?”

His blatant and not at all quiet question makes your face burn. You’re not sure any of the staff heard, as they all seem to be fairly busy with their duties. Regardless, your insides still twist with anxiety upon hearing the question. 

Timidly, you nod, glancing down at your plate. You might also have a tiny smirk on your face. 

Grinning, he lifts his glass to take a sip, his voice echoing over the liquid. “I like that.” 

Throughout the entire dinner, Max is smirking at you, content with the knowledge you’ve given him. Try as you might, your arousal is unwilling to subside. You feel quivery, your insides fluttering when he makes you the object of his gaze. 

After a moment of silent eating, Maxwell speaks. “Gracias, mi belleza.” (Thank you, my beauty)

Looking up, you tilt your head. “¿Para qué?” (For what?)

“You have given me everything I have wanted in life.” 

Smiling, you take a deep breath, his words prompting a variety of emotions to bubble up inside. You never expected anything in return for your wish; you wished for this because you love him. But he has been incredibly grateful for it, for you, and you’re thankful for that. Max was a greedy man, but he was a respectable one, too. 

“But why not want more?” You question, grinning. 

He repeats you quietly, passionately. “But why not want more…”

“I love you.” You tell him genuinely, nodding. “I only want to see you happy. I will give you whatever you want.”

Suddenly standing, he wipes his hands, holding them out as he approaches you. "I am happy,” Closing in, he reaches for your face, cupping your cheeks with a firm passion. “You are my happiness.” 

The words he says come out with a genuine tone, speaking directly to your soul. You let him hold you like this, his smile coming to the surface. It’s a beautiful sight, seeing his grin grow in size, so much so that his little dimple forms on the side. 

“You’re so handsome, mi amor.” (My love)

“And you…” He nearly growls, his darkened eyes dipping down to admire your form. “Are a ravishing thing.”

This makes your heart pound profusely, inhaling a shaky breath. 

“You want more?” He asks, met with your eager nod. “Follow me.” He tells you, “I will show you more.” 

With one last sip from your glass, you stand, allowing Max to take your hand. With dinner now done he leads you to the bottom deck, the one closest to the water. He ushers you along, sliding his hand around to the small of your back as you walk toward the edge of the deck. Reaching out, you place your hands on the railing, watching the sunset. 

Maxwell comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and resting his chin on your shoulder. Breathing in, he inhales the sweet smell of your perfume, sighing lightly from the scent of it. 

“This is mine.” He whispers into your ear, “All of this is mine, and it’s all because of you.”

“I will give you more, mi amor.” You promise him sweetly, knowing that your wish will deliver him anything he could ever yearn for. (My love) 

“I owe you a great debt, my little love.” Max’s smile presses to your cheek, his hold on your tightening. 

With a smile you respond, “You owe me nothing.” Reaching back, you comb lightly through his hair. “Your love is enough.” 

Your collective pursuit and material goods has been a driving force in your relationship. It made you attracted to him, seeing the passion he had to complete his life goals. No matter what, Maxwell was always a persistent man. He didn’t give up easily, if ever. And when he first saw you, that excessive need to have whatever he damn well pleased took over then, too. 

“It’s gorgeous here.” You tell him softly, quietly, staring at the beautiful shades and purples and blues. 

You’re a mesmerizing thing to him, a true work of art inside and out. He thinks you match his own personality rather well, your confidence and attitude toward life remaining the same. At first, he was attracted to your body, your face, your beautiful hair and your dazzling smile. You turned heads in any and every room. He knew he had to have you. But then he got to know you. And that’s when he decided to keep you.  

“Isn’t it?” He responds half-heartedly, not really focusing on what you’re saying anymore. He’s brushing your hair to the side, moving to mouth at your neck. 

You can tell by the way he says it that he’s very obviously distracted. He’s already rising behind you, the feeling of his mouth hot and wet. Pressing yourself back into him, you grin, wanting to spur your lover on. And as soon as you do, his hand flies down, gripping you harshly on your ass. 

“I want to have you.” He grits out into your ear, his lips pressing to its outer shell.

“Maxwell,” You chuckle, turning your head to the side he’s nearest. “You do have me.” But he just squeezes your flesh harder in his hand. 

“Do not play games with me.” It’s a warning, one seethed out from his mouth. 

Smirking, you turn away to face the water again. He’s right, you knew what he meant. But just as you’re beginning to admire the view again, he does something unexpected. Almost as soon as you look away from him, his hand rises to your jaw, yanking your head back in his direction. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

It makes you gasp, his authoritative tone and choice of words. His hold on you is tight, his curved nose pressing into your cheek. 

“Let me have you, mi princesa, mi preciosa niña.” (My princess, my precious girl)

“Right here?” Your pulse quickens against your skin. Now, you’re unsure of what he means. Surely he isn’t suggesting you do this here, he’s never touched you in a public setting. But he doesn’t give you a definitive answer, not verbally, not really.

“Lift up your leg, hermosa.” (Beautiful) 

Before you even have a chance to move, he’s doing it for you, placing his hand beneath your knee to lift it in the air and bend it over the rail. 

“That’s it…” He smooths his hands up beneath your dress, over the soft curves of your ass. “I want you riiight here.”

A small breeze brushes over your skin when he lifts your dress up to your hips. Your face runs hot when he does this - you feel so exposed. 

“Just like that.” He hurriedly rushes out, hands now dropping to his belt. 

Whipping your head in either direction, you gauge your surroundings, wondering if anyone is near. Right now, you don’t see or hear anyone, which is relieving. But at the same time, you’re not exactly sure of the crew’s schedules. They could come down at any moment. 

“Yes…” Maxwell’s erotic hiss brings you back to the present, as well as his naked and prodding tip. 

“Max,” Gasping out when he pushes you forward, your fingers curl around the railing while your heart leaps into your throat. 

Quickly, he lifts his fingers up to his mouth, swiping them across his tongue before bringing them down. He rubs the pads of his digits over your naked sex, thankful you decided to forgo panties for the night. 

“B-Baby!” Your squeal turns into a shout when he shoves himself in, Max’s mouth dropping open completely. 

“Oh…” It’s a loud and forceful groan, a harsh bite digging into your shoulder shortly thereafter. “I’ve been waiting to do this since I put those toys inside you.” 

Both of those large hands slide over your hips, slowly beginning to rock you back and forth before you have any real time to adjust to him. Hanging your head down, you suck in a deep breath, excitement rushing through your veins. And he can hear this, your flustered state making him laugh. 

“You’ll do anything for me, won’t you?” He asks, now rolling his hips into you. Each thrust shoves you over the railing just a little, but to make you feel safe he slinks one hand up and around your waist. Pulling you close, he kisses your ear, whispering, “My rich little slut.” 

“Max,” An incredible smile blooms across your face. He could be so good at talking dirty. “You like spoiling me?”

“Bebita,” The arm he had around your waist retracts, that broad palm sliding up to your neck. Fingers gripping the choker around your throat, he tugs you back, grunting into your ear. “Sabes que lo hago.” (Baby girl, you know I do)

“I love that,” With his exciting words, you gain a bit of confidence, now bouncing back against him. He’s diving entirely inside every time, hitting you deep and moaning when he feels you grow tight. 

Your next words are calculated, ones you know will make him fall to his fucking knees. Reaching back, you grab onto his hair, whispering, “I love my sugar daddy.” 

“Fuck,” His eyes roll back, hand tightening on your throat. An airy gasp falls from your lips, feeling his hold on your windpipe. “Yes, yes, mi bonita niña.” (My pretty girl)

It’s impossible for him to not react to those words, and you know it. Maxwell fucking loves spoiling you with everything he has. Dressing you in his wealth, keeping you safely tucked away in lavish homes, taking you places only royalty would come to know. It’s the least he can do for the woman who gave him the world, for the woman who made him a god. 

You’re glad that you decided to do this on the yacht, you could never get away with it anywhere else. You can’t see any land from where you’re at, it’s just you two and the crew. And apparently to Maxwell, he doesn’t even care about that. After he called you his rich little slut, his thrusts have sped up significantly, thick fingers not once letting go of your throat. His dominant hand stays cemented to your hip, the sound of him delving into your sex traveling across the water and ringing in your ears. He’s swollen inside you, and you’ve never heard such passionate grunts emanate from his mouth before. 

“M-Max, Maxwell,” You’re choking slightly, coughing from his firm hold. The blood is your fingertips is straining against the firm curl of your knuckles on the railing, your pelvis knocking against the metal with each of his thrusts. 

“That’s it, princesa,” Sweat forms along his hairline, a wide grin on his straining face. “Be a good girl for your papí, make him happy.” (Princess, daddy) 

Leaning forward, he attaches his mouth to your neck, to the skin above his fingers’ harsh hold. While kissing the back of your neck, he grinds up into you, sighing out when he feels your subtle pulse, when he hears your quiet gasp. 

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” Nodding, whining, you reply with, “Yes.”

He huffs out a chuckle, doing it again, and again. The way he’s holding you, the way he’s fucking you, makes you feel like you’re the most captivating thing on earth. 

“Please, harder,” You mean to say more, but you’re interrupted by a short gasp. One that doesn’t belong to either one of you. 

Apparently, Raquel has stumbled upon your current situation and is standing a little ways behind the two of you. Looking over his shoulder, he grins, those black and bloody eyes staring at his assistant. 

“I, M-Mr. Lord,” 

“Not now, Raquel.” He repeats his earlier words, grin growing wider before his lips return to your neck.

She watches with wide eyes as he sucks on your throat, those surprised orbs traveling down to witness Max’s bare cock sliding in and out. The way he’s bending you over allows her to see your entire lower half, forcing her to stutter out a breath before spinning around to face the opposite direction. 

“Max!” Your next whine finally forces her to scurry away, crying out from his harsh movements. “Baby,”

He’s colored you in multiple bruises, all over your shoulder and neck - he can’t help it. Every time he’s inside you it feels like the first, he could never get enough. He always wants more, more, more. 

Snarling, he grips the chain around your neck. “Do you know why you wear this?”

All you can do in response is whimper, head resting back on his shoulder.

“Because it makes you mine.” And then a quiet, maniacal laugh. “It makes you mine.”

“I, M-Max,” Smiling, he releases you slightly, petting at your throat. “I’ll never, never take it off.”

“I know you won’t.” 

Whenever he’s rough with you, he always finds the choker around your neck. He gave it to you as a statement, a declaration. And you’ve worn it ever since. 

“What, fuck,” Eyes rolling back, they close completely, still resting your head on Max’s shoulder. “What about R-Raquel?”

“What about her, cariño?” (Sweetheart)

“She saw us.”

“Let her see.” Easily, he shrugs this off, the motion of his hips now becoming erratic. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.” 

“Maxwell,” Rolling your eyes, you grin. “You’re so insatiable with me.” 

“I know, I know, I know,” As if he can’t control himself, he growls, briefly baring his teeth behind you. “And I’ll never get enough.” 

Snarling, he leans forward, forcing you to hold onto the railing again. The hand on your throat slides down, shoving itself beneath the hem of your dress. He cups one of your breasts, swiping his thumb across your nipple piercing and grinning. It makes him chuckle breathlessly, his precum continuing to leak from his tip while he fucks you raw. 

Slamming himself into you he grunts, eyes pinching shut. “Te amo, mi belleza.” (I love you, my beauty)

“Baby, te quiero; te amo, papí.” You’re both babbling out your emotions for one another, one of the many things that tells you he’s close. “Let me feel it, please.” (I love you; love you, daddy)

Max never tells you when he’s going to cum, he doesn’t need to. It’s such an obvious thing, his trembling limbs, his forceful huffs of air, the way his mouth drops open and his eyes force shut, the way his body curls tightly over yours. And you embrace it, every second of it, reveling in the sensation of his release as it warms your insides. 

“Ngh,” He shouts into your ear. “Ugh…”

His orgasm sparks something wild inside him, his chest choking out desperate gasps as he holds onto you. His pelvis juts against your body, his arms keeping you close. And even if you don’t cum with him, you still squeeze him impossibly tight, your wet, warm walls never ceasing to milk him dry. 

While Max’s body quivers behind you, you open your eyes, met with an incredible sight. The sun is nearly beneath the horizon, stars now beginning to come out. It takes your breath away, seeing the sea like this. It provides the moment with an ethereal sensation, one that makes you both relax. Max opens his eyes, too, but he barely looks at the sky. Still reveling in his high, he only focuses on you. 

The only unfortunate thing about sex with Max was that he was still an incredibly greedy man. He always came, whether you did or not. He prioritized how he felt, prioritized his own pleasure before even considering yours. Whether it was you or him on your knees, he always made sure to get the most out of your activities. But in the long run, it didn’t matter to you, not when his mouth made up for it so beautifully.

#oh baby #Max Lord #Maxwell Lord #Wonder Woman 1984 #WW84 #Max Lord x you #Max Lord x reader #Max Lord x female reader #Max Lord smut #Kinktober #Kinktober 2022 #Sintober #Sintober 2022

[supernaturalgirl20]

It’s time for some for some Max Lord request is it? Max dating reader for her fathers wealth, but falling in love because she is so great with Alistair and very understanding for Max. But then she finds out. But Max wants to make it up to her with all cost.

I haven’t written for Max Lord in a while so thank you for the request 🥰🥰 also I’m so sorry this took ages, my muse is a little wacky lately 😜

Anything for Love

Pairings: Max Lord x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, angst, mild language, Max using reader, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of divorce, fluff.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Max swaggered confidently through the room - his head nodding at the rich businessmen and women as he passed. Something that was becoming second nature to him now. Tonight he was attending a charity gala in aid of some poor orphanage he knew little about, in the hopes of building up his client base.

A giggle catches his attention and he can’t help the way his gut twists at the sound. A feeling - guilt possibly - consumes him entirely as he slides up beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist pulling you into his side.

He doesn’t have time for feelings, not when his end goal is at stake. He will stop at nothing to succeed and no one is getting in his way; not even you.

***

Mustering all his strength to quench these ever-growing feelings, he plasters a smile on his face as his eyes drift down towards you. You look up at him at the same moment and that sparkle you get when you're truly happy shines brightly behind your eyes, rendering him weak.

How am I supposed to carry this plan through? “Mr Lord, we were just saying that you both must join us for dinner. We’ve hired an in-house chef and he’s absolutely exquisite.”

“Thank you for the offer John, we’d be delighted to come over sometime. I’m going to be rude and borrow my beautiful fiancé for a moment.”

“Of course, young love we completely understand,” he says as he turns to his wife, something akin to the devotion behind his eyes. “You know we’ve been married for thirty years and I love her more now than I did back then. When you find your person, the one that has your back through thick and thin, well, you gotta hold on to them.”

“I completely agree. That’s why I asked Y/N to marry me.” It’s why it’s going to kill me to hurt her. Mr Fitzgerald nods at him as he turns to kiss Y/N on the hand before moving along.

“He’s not that bad,” she says as the corners of her mouth curve into a smile. “I never said anything.”

“You don’t have to, your body language says it all. Maxie poo.” Her shoulders shake with laughter, the sound contagious and he can’t help but laugh with her. “I should never have told you about my mother's nickname for me.”

Max feigns hurt as he pouts his lips, his eyelashes fluttering. “Oh did I hurt your feelings baby? I'm sorry.”

“You're not sorry one bit.” He looks down at her now with raised eyebrows. “No, can’t say that I am.” The hand that’s resting on her hip squeezes tight before movement catches his eyes.

“There you two are. Come on, I want to introduce you to an old friend,” her father says as he approaches with a glass of champagne in his hand.

The rest of the night passes in a blur but one thing is certain: Maxwell Lord is falling hard. This is a huge problem, one he cannot afford as he draws closer to securing your father's fortune.

***

Since the night of the gala, Maxwell has become distant. He’s gone to work before you wake and remains at the office late into the night. You’re growing frustrated at his behaviour and you need to get to the bottom of it.

Today, however, Alastair is coming to stay for the weekend so you are going to focus all your attention on him. Maxwell can wait.

Dressing in a cute yellow floral dress, you make your way into the kitchen to begin making cookies - Alastair’s favourite. You’d already gotten all the goodies for a movie night and he had mentioned he wanted a pizza from that new place in the city, so dinner was covered.

While the cookies were cooling, you quickly put on a little bit of makeup and curl your hair. You wanted to look good when Maxwell got home. You also wanted him to touch you. It’s been almost a week since he had and you needed him. It’s why you decided to wear his favourite red lace lingerie under the dress.

The sound of the doorbell startles you from your thoughts and you quickly run to open it. Small arms hug you tightly as you smile down at Alastair. “Well hello to you too, my little munchkin.”

“He’s been so excited all week,” Elisa says as she hands you his overnight bag. “I’ve put some cough medicine in there too, he’s been feeling a little poorly this week.”

“Aww is my poor little man sick? Well, we’ll take care of you, don't worry. Thank Elisa, I hope you have a lovely weekend away.”

“I can’t wait, George has it all planned. Won’t tell me a thing though.” You both laugh but her face turns serious all of a sudden. “I want to thank you though, Maxwell has been…different…better, since he started dating you. Alastair seems so much happier and it’s all because of you.”

A blush creeps up onto your face and you don’t know where to look. “Oh I don’t know if I can take all the credit, Max is a changed man and he truly loves Alastair.”

“I know he does but he never spent much time with him until you, so thank you.” She hugs you before pulling back and waving goodbye to her son. “I’ll see you Monday evening.”

Turning to Alastair, you find him already munching on the cookies. “Hey…leave some for me will you?”

***

Maxwell paced his office frantically, his hands running anxiously through his hair. What am I going to do? A knock sounds at his door and he quickly moves to open it. Barbara smiles seductively up at him as she moves past him, her hands running along his chest as she passes.

“You sounded panicked on the phone, what’s wrong? Little Miss Goody two shoes isn’t pregnant is she?” Maxwell freezes - his heart hammering within his chest - his cock twitching at the thought of you round with his child.

“No. It’s worse,” he says as he moves around his desk and takes a seat. “Worse than being tied to her for the rest of your life?”

He shoots her daggers and she laughs at him, swaying her hips as she comes to sit on his lap. Her hand rests on his cheek and he tries his best to pull out of her grasp. “You fucking love her, don’t you? Maxwell this is a problem. We need her father's money and if you have developed feelings - this puts a dent in our plans.”

“I don’t love her! I just don’t hate her anymore, that’s all.” He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince - himself or Barbara. “We need to move up the wedding. Then once you’ve been married for three months get a divorce and take her money.”

“Her father wants me to sign a prenup.” Barbara laughs as she runs her fingers along his chest. “You and I both know Y/N isn’t going to make you sign it, she loves you.” His chest tightens and that twisting feeling in his gut makes a reappearance.

Barbara begins to kiss the skin along his neck but guilt courses through him so he pushes her off. “Don’t! I may be taking Y/N’s money from her but I won’t cheat.”

“Well you’re no fun,” she says as she moves towards the door. “Make sure you get her to move up the wedding. The sooner we get this over with the better.”

Maxwell releases a sigh as he runs his hand along his face. His eyes land on the clock and he curses. “Shit! I need to get home.”

***

Arriving home he finds the apartment quiet, too quiet and he begins to panic until he reaches Alastair’s room and finds you both asleep. Alastair is under his covers, his head snuggled into your lap. A book sits across your chest with your head tilted to the side. You fell asleep while reading to his son and his heart swells at the sight.

He quietly moves around the room tucking his son in and lifting the book carefully from your grasp. You startle awake with a gasp and he moves his finger to his lip, “Shh, it’s ok…it’s just me.”

“What time is it?” Guilt twists in his gut again, he’s been avoiding you all week and he can see the hurt in your eyes. “Past nine.” You lift your hand towards him and he pulls you up. Standing on shaky legs you stumble, falling into his chest. Max wraps his arms around you, pulling you close so you don’t fall.

His heart is beating fast and he prays you can’t feel it below your hand. He makes the mistake of looking down at you and he’s met with those sparkling eyes he has grown to love. No, like not love. Can not love!

You both sneak quietly out of the room and Max turns to you with a sheepish smile on his face. “I’m sorry I’m late, I didn’t realise the time.” A smile creeps onto your face but he notices that it doesn’t meet your eyes.

“It’s not me you need to say sorry to, Max. Alastair was looking forward to having a movie night tonight with you.” His eyes close as the guilt once again washes over him. “I know. I promise I’m yours all weekend. No work.”

“Good, now do you want a glass of wine before bed?” He’s torn. Max wants to spend time with you; he's been purposely distant all week, but he knows that if he allows himself to be comfortable around you - he’ll cave.

“I think I’ll just head to bed. It’s been a long week.” He sees the hurt flash across your face and he unconsciously reaches out for you. His hand grabs your wrist pulling you into him - his arms wrapping around you.

“I’ve missed you.” I’ve really fucking missed you. A smile spreads over your face and you reach up and capture his lips in a searing kiss. Max groans, feeling himself grow hard, his body screaming at him to bury himself inside you. To feel your warmth surround him. To completely surrender to you.

“Maybe we both should go to bed, but not to sleep,” you say seductively through hooded eyes as you twine your fingers with his - leading him towards your shared room. This is the last time he thinks to himself as he closes the door behind him.

***

Maxwell is sitting against the headboard as you rock your hips above him. His hands gripping your hips tight as you move up and down his hard length. There’s nothing but the sound of your muffled cries of pleasure filling the space between you.

You fit so snug around him - like you were made just for him. He leans forward, his mouth wrapping around the peak of your breast and he groans at the sound of your gasp. Wrapping your arms around his shoulder you pull him impossibly closer and he can’t help but wish he could stay buried inside you for eternity. Eternity wouldn’t be long enough.

“Oh-fuck-Max I’m-I’m gonna..” you cry out as your head falls back between your shoulders. Your body convulses in ecstasy as you cry out, his lips stealing your moans. The peaks of your breasts are hard against his skin and the sight of you blissed out on top of him is enough to send him over the edge. “Mierda!”

He comes. His body shudders as he fills you, his seed coating the walls of your womb and that stray thought from earlier creeps into his mind. Of seeing you pregnant with his child.

He keeps you seated on top of him for a moment, his arms still gripping you tight. He’s afraid this is a dream and he’ll wake up any moment. “I love you,” he whispers into your dewy skin.

He can feel you tense for a moment before relaxing, your hand stroking his hair. “That’s the first time you’ve said that.”

“I’ve said it before.” He knows he hasn’t. With a shake of your head, you look at him, your eyes boring into his soul. “No Max, you haven’t. It doesn't matter though because I’ve always known, even if you didn’t say it.”

Why do you have to be so perfect? Perfect for me. “I do though, love you.” You smile down at him and his heart practically stops. He pulls you into a soft kiss before gently moving you off him. The hairs at the base of his cock glisten with your combined juices as he shuffles out of bed to grab a wet cloth.

Both clean and satiated, you curl up under the duvet and Max pulls you close. Your head is resting on his shoulder and your fingers run along his chest - the small amount of hair tickling him as you do.

A sense of contentment washes over him, invading every space, every crack, every gaping hole his father left. He’s found the love he’s so desperately sought all his life and he’s about to throw it all away for what? Money.

Soft snores break him from his reverie and he gazes down at you, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. You came crashing into his life and made him laugh, made him cry, made him whole. You embraced him for all that he is and made him believe he deserved to be loved.

Alastair loves you. He loves you. I can’t fucking do this. Carefully he moves to grab his phone from the bedside table, scrolling through until he finds her name. Typing up a quick message he turns his phone off and curls his arms around you. He falls asleep with a smile on his face and a full heart.

Maxwell: The deal is off. I can’t go through with it. I won’t go through with it. I’m sorry.

Barbara: You’re going to regret this!

***

Max reaches out seeking your warmth but finds your side of the bed empty. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he sits up and stretches before slowly getting out of bed and pulling in some sweats and a t-shirt. He checks his phone and a worrisome feeling settles in his stomach.

I hope this doesn’t backfire on me. What if she does something to Y/N or Alastair? The sound of laughter from the kitchen draws his attention and he drifts out of the room and along the hall.

He stands in the doorway - leaning against the wall as he observes you and Alastair together. He’s never seen his son this happy. He’s never been this happy. You're to thank for all of it.

“Something smells good.” He pushes off the wall and moves around the island to stand behind you. Resting his hands on your hips he looks towards Alastair as he flips a pancake. “I hope you're making some for me?”

“We were gonna bring it to you in bed.” Alastair huffs out, his tone laced with disappointment. “I can go back if you want?”

“No, it’s fine.” You turn in his arms and kiss him softly on the lips. “I was thinking maybe we could head to the museum today? Alastair wants to see that new dinosaur exhibit.”

“No! - I mean- we could just spend the day here, have a movie day and maybe head up to the roof garden for a swim?” You turn your gaze to Alastair - waiting on his reaction. “It’s fine, as long as I get to choose the film.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You smile at the interaction between them both before leaving them to dress. Max’s eyes trail after you as you go. God, I love her so much.

***

Monday morning arrived quicker than expected and Maxwell was back in the office today - leaving you with Alastair. “How about we go to the museum, see that exhibit you wanted to go to?”

“Can we really? I want to go.” You smile brightly at him as you nod your head. “Go and grab your camera and backpack and then we’ll go. We can grab some lunch too while we’re out.”

He runs towards you and hugs you tight. “I'm so happy dad is marrying you. You’re the best stepmom ever. I love you. ” Your heart practically bursts as tears well up in your eyes. “ I love you too, my little munchkin.”

Walking around the museum - Alastair slightly ahead of you, taking pictures and asking questions - you feel a little light-headed. Taking a seat you make sure that Alastair is within sight before sipping water. Your phone vibrates with a message.

Max: Hey baby, I’m finished early. Are you at home? X

Y/N: No, we decided to go to the museum. We’re at the dinosaur exhibit if you want to pop in! X

Max: I’ll be there in 10 x

“It’s all so boring isn’t it?” A female voice startles you and when you lift your head from your phone, you’re greeted with a bright smile. “I don’t mind it. I’m just not feeling too good.”

“Oh no, can I get you a drink of water or something?” You smile and nod your head as you turn in search of Alastair. You spot him deep in conversation with the tour guide. “I’m ok, but thank you.”

The woman remained seated beside you, her gaze focused on you and you were beginning to feel uncomfortable. “Can I help you with something? You ask her, your eyes drifting to your phone to check the time.

“I can see why he’s infatuated with you. You’re very beautiful.” You stare at her now, confusion written all over your face.

“Oh Maxwell, he’s infatuated with you. I’m sorry I never introduced myself, I’m Barabara Minerva. I’m a - friend of Maxwell. I feel it’s my duty as a woman to tell you that he’s only using you.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you're talking about, I need to…”

“He only started dating you for your father's money. He was to marry you and then after three months get a divorce taking all your money with him.”

“You're lying.” She laughs. A dark menacing laugh as she steps forward, her warm breath fanning your face. “Am I?”

***

Maxwell's heart practically stops at the sight of you and Barabara standing together. What is she doing? His heart beats furiously with his chest as he slowly makes his way towards you both.

You spot him first and the look in your eyes will haunt him forever. Hurt, disappointment, betrayal. He swears he can see the beginnings of tears as you turn and walk away.

No! Don’t leave. “What have you done?” He spits out as he turns to Barbara, anger seeping out of him. “I’ve merely done the woman a favour. I told her the truth about her future husband. I did warn you, Maxwell.” Her face contorts into a wicked grin as she pecks him on the cheek and leaves.

“I hope she loves you enough to forgive you.”

Max turns to follow after you, his eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Alastair or you. “Daddy, you made it.”

“Alastair my little munchkin, do you mind if we finish up for the day, I’m feeling a little unwell.”

He shakes his head and comes to link his arm with yours. “It’s ok, I’ve seen everything anyway.” Max follows you both out towards his car and helps you both in before taking off.

Look at me baby, please. He tries hard to get your attention but you keep your gaze focused on the streets outside. Mierda!

“Dad, you said a bad word.” Fuck I said that out loud. “I’m sorry buddy.” He chances a look at you and finds you already looking at him. For the first time since you both started dating, he can’t read you. Can’t tell what’s going through your head and he hates it.

Once you make it home it’s a little bit of chaos as you both try to get everything together for Alastair as he waits for his mom. “I’m just going to lie down. I’ll see you soon, munchkin.” You say as you kiss his cheek and hug him tight.

You don’t bother to look at Maxwell as you pass him and his chest tightens a little more at your blatant attempts of ignoring him. It’s what I deserve.

Max opens the door to your shared room slowly and finds you huddled under the blankets, soft sobs filling the room. “Baby - I’m sorry - Barbara is..”

“Was she telling the truth?” You sit up now, your eyes rimmed red from crying. “I - it’s not..”

“Just tell me, Max, is it true? Are you with me just for my father's money?” His eyes leave your form, searching for a distraction. “It’s true. Everything she said is true but baby you have to believe me, I - that’s not the case now. I love you, so so much and I don’t want to lose you.”

You laugh at him, a short sarcastic laugh that pierces him through the heart. “You don’t love me, you love the money. I want you to leave.”

“Y/N please - don’t make me leave - I love you, and Alastair will be heartbroken.” You turn to him then, an angry look in your eyes. “Don’t you dare use him against me. I love him like he was my son,” you spit out as you stand, approaching him - finger pointed at his chest.

“I’m sorry, mi amor. I never meant to hurt you, please believe me.” You stumble a little, falling against his chest and his arms come to wrap around you, preventing you from falling.

“Y/N, baby are you ok?” He helps you to sit in the bed but before you can answer you fall into darkness.

***

A constant beeping sound rings through your ears as you slowly open your eyes. You take in your surroundings as your eyes move about the room until they land on the sleeping form of Max.

Your heart beats frantically as you take in his dishevelled form. He hurt you but you also can’t ignore the way your heart longs for him. “Ah, you're awake.”

Max startles awake panicking until he sees you sitting up. He lets out a sigh of relief as he grabs your hand, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin.

You want to pull your hand away and never let him touch you again but you also grace his touch. You love him for Christ's sake. “Ms Y/N, you fainted from over-exertion which is quite common in early pregnancy.”

“What?! Did you say - you said I’m - I’m pregnant?” Max has stilled beside you, his hand gripping yours tight. “We did some blood work and it came back positive for pregnancy. It’s not clear how far along you are but we can give you a scan to find out. I take it from your reaction that you didn’t know?”

“No, we had no idea - we weren’t, I mean…” Max stands and thanks the doctor, who leaves to continue on his rounds. Max moves slowly towards you before coming to sit on the side of the bed. “You’re pregnant! We’re having a baby.”

“I didn’t know,” you gasp out and look up at him, a mix of emotions running across your face. You hate him for what he did - was planning to do, but you also love him more than life itself and now you are carrying his baby.

“You scared me, baby. I thought - I can’t lose you, or our baby. I never meant to hurt you. I love you and I promise I wasn’t going through with my…” You silence him by placing your finger on his lips. “Max I can’t right now - it’s too much, just - I need time. I’ll let you be involved with the baby, and attend appointments but I just need space.”

“Ok. I’ll do anything to keep you in my life. I love you, just remember that.”

***

Maxwell arrived at your apartment every morning with a decaf coffee and those blueberry muffins you loved from that bakery across the city. He drove you to work and picked you up after but never pushed you to come in.

He sent flowers, sweets and all your favourite books to you at work. He organised trips for Alastair and made sure to include you. He was really trying and you couldn’t help but look forward to seeing him every day.

“Morning baby, I’ve brought a variety today - we’ve got pancakes, croissants…” He stumbles back as you rush towards him, your lips crashing against his. He’s stunned at first but it doesn’t take long for him to reciprocate - his tongue running along your bottom lip causing you to moan.

You both pull back - the need for air too great - and he looks at you with hope in his eyes. “What - what was that for?”

“Max we’ve been doing this for months, I mean our little girl is almost ready to come into the world and I want her to have both her parents.”

“She will. I’m not going anywhere…” You run your fingers down along his chest - playing with the buttons in his suit jacket. “What I mean is - I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family.”

“You’re sure? I mean I’ve wanted nothing more than to hear you say that but only if it’s what you want?”

“It is. I can’t help how I feel about you Max, I love you. You’ve proven to me that you love me too and our little girl,” you say, rubbing your hand along your large bump. His hand rests on top of yours and he looks at you with eyes full of devotion.

“I promise I will never betray your trust again and that I will do anything to keep you and our little Princess in my life.” He kisses you softly on the lips before kissing you on the forehead. “Alastair is going to be over the moon. He’s missed you.”

“I love him too.” Max pulls you close, one hand wrapped around you, the other cupping your cheek. “I love you even more for it. He has told me off about ruining our relationship. Can you imagine being told off by my son?”

“He’s a clever boy.” He nods before kissing you again. “How about I take the day off, we go collect Alastair and head down to the beach house for the weekend?”

“That sounds perfect.”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @deliriosinrose @allthe-ships @tintinn16

#pedro pascal #max lord x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #max lord x female reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #maxwell lord ww84

[little-mrs-morales]

Sunday Fiction Sanctuary

Rumour has it

@thewayofthemandalorian

This is sweet college au where nothing is as it seems. Rumour has it you hate Professor Maxwell Lord. But do you? I think it’s obvious where this leads but its great story if you want to just rest and reed something nice. It’s very good written, using great foreshadowing/hints of future plot. 

Smile

@slater-baby

My favourite headcanon for Pero Tovar is that he is sweet girl’s dad. He is great father figure. Rough but love his family, his sweet wife, and their kids. But he is essentially proud of himself for giving his wife a child. And the kid is his biggest treasure. 

It’s so gentle and beautiful. Soul touching. 

 

Accidentally Mrs. Bravo

@absurdthirstt, @storiesofthefandomlovers

What I love about this fic is how needy Dieter actually is. It suits him. He is not heartless motherfucker. He wants to treat his wife right even if its fake marriage.

Lot of people write Dieter as somebody who loves sex but is not emotional at all. No strings attached. But he is artist. His muses are his emotions. He can do a lot with no emotions but, deep in his heart, he just wants to be loved. 

#dieter bravo x female reader #pero tovar x reader #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #Instagram

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update 02/18/2024

Nerdie! What is new this week?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Compulsion by @iamskyereads (Ezra x OFC Beatrice)

Misunderstanding by @romanarose (Marc Spector x fem reader)

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

Bloom by @violentdelightsandviolentends (Bucky x fem reader)

Helping Hand by @izelascendant (Din Djarin x OFC)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have a great week everyone! 🥰

Love Nerdie! 💜

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

#Weekend update #Nerdie's weekend update #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #nerdie fic rec #frankie morales #joel miller #din djarin #the mandalorian #jake lockley #ezra #javier gutierrez #Javier Peña #Maxwell lord #marcus moreno #marc spector #bucky barnes #blue #moon boys

[froggywritesstuff]

character list

the title is self explanatory. this is a list of the characters i'll write for. it'll probably change over time, and if you see a character you'd like but don't see them on the list, just ask cause i might've forgotten about them

Hamilton

Eliza Schuyler

Angelica Schuyler

Peggy Schuyler

Maria Reynolds

Alexander Hamilton

John Laurens

Philip Hamilton

Lafayette

Hercules Mulligan

James Madison

Thomas Jefferson

Aaron Burr

Umbrella Academy

Viktor Hargreeves

Diego Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Allison Hargreeves

Luther Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves

Ben Hargreeves (Umbrella or Sparrow)

Sloane Hargreeves

Jayme Hargreeves

Stranger Things

Will Byers (non female readers only)

Mike Wheeler

Lucas Sinclair

Dustin Henderson

Eleven Hopper

Max Mayfield

Robin Buckley (non male readers only)

Nancy Wheeler

Jonathan Byers

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

21 Chump Street

Justin Laboy

The Goldfinch

Boris Pavlikovsky

Theodore Decker

Marvel

Peter Parker (any actor)

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson

Makkari

Sersi

Sprite (platonic only)

Steven Grant

Marc Spector

Layla El-Faouly

America Chavez (non male readers only)

Kate Bishop

Yelena Belova (platonic only)

Shuri

Namor

Riri Williams

X-Men

Mystique

Kitty Pryde

Peter Maximoff

Rogue

In The Heights (movie version)

Usnavi de la Vega

Vanessa 

Nina Rosario

Benny

Sonny de la Vega 

Heathers

Veronica Sawyer

JD (Jason Dean)

Heather Chandler

Heather McNamara

Heather Duke

John Doe

John Doe

Ride The Cyclone

Noel Gruber (male or nb readers only)

Ocean O'Connel Rosenburg

Mischa Bachinski

Constance Blackwood

Ricky Potts

Hatchetfieldverse

Paul Matthews

Emma Perkins

Ted Spankoffski

Bill Woodard

Ruth Fleming

Pete Spankoffski

Richie Lipschitz

Max Jagerman

Grace Chasity

Lex Foster

Ethan Green

Hannah Foster (platonic only)

Heartstopper

Charlie Spring (non female readers only)

Nick Nelson

Tara Jones (non male readers only)

Darcy Olsson (non male readers readers only)

Elle Argent

Tao Xu (non male readers only(headcanoning him as bi or pan is disrespectful and transphobic))

Tori Spring

Imogen Heaney

Isaac Henderson (platonic only)

Do Revenge

Eleanor Levetan (non male readers only)

Drea Torres

Deadpool

Wade Wilson/Deadpool

Wednesday

Wednesday Addams

Enid Sinclair

Bianca Barclay

Xavier Thorpe

Ajax Petropolus

Eugene Otinger

(young) Morticia Addams

(young) Gomez Addams

Beetlejuice

Lydia Deetz

Tomorrow When The War Began

Ellie Linton

Lee Takkam

Fiona Maxwell

Homer Yannos

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse/Across the Spider-Verse

Miles Morales

Gwen Stacy

Pavitr Prabhakar

Hobie Brown

Margo Kess

Miles G Morales (earth 42)

Miguel O’Hara

Maze Runner

Thomas

Newt (non female readers only)

The Broken Hearts Gallery

Lucy Gulliver

Nadine (non male readers only)

Nick Danielson

Treasure Planet

Jim Hawkins

Enola Holmes

Enola Holmes

Lord Tewkesbury

Turning Red

Mei Mei

Miriam

Abby

Priya

Raising Dion

Nicole Warren

Tevin Wakefield

Dion Warren (platonic only)

Julie and the Phantoms

Julie Molina

Luke Patterson

Reggie Peters

Alex Mercer (non female readers only)

Flynn

Carrie

Abbott Elementary

Janine Teagues

Jacob Hill (non female readers only)

Gregory Eddie

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Jake Peralta

Amy Santiago

Rosa Diaz

Love Victor

Victor Salazar (non female readers only)

Benji (non female readers only)

Felix Weston

Pilar Salazar

Lake Meriwether

Lucy

Mia Brooks

Andrew

In Treatment

Eladio

Laila

Spree

Kurt Kunkle

Once Upon a Time

Emma Swan

Regina Mills

Killian Jones

Mary Margaret Blanchard

David Nolan

Henry Mills

Mulan (non male readers only)

Graham

Neal Cassidy

Peter Pan

Jefferson

Dash and Lily

Dash

Lily

Boomer

Juno

Juno MacGuff

Paulie Bleeker

Summer Days Summer Nights

Debbie Espinoza

Frankie Espinoza

Scream (1 through 6)

Sidney Prescott

Billy Loomis

Mickey Altieri

Roman Bridger

Jill Roberts

Charlie Walker

Sam Carpenter

Tara Carpenter

Amber Freeman

Chad Meeks-Martin

Mindy Meeks-Martin

Quinn Bailey

Venom

Eddie Brock

Honest Thief

Ramon Hall

Beth Hall

Wild Child

Poppy Moore

Kate

Drippy

Freddie Kingsley

Monsters and Men

Manny Ortega

Marisol Ortega

Ghostbusters: Afterlife

Trevor Spengler

Phoebe Spengler (platonic only)

Error 143

Micah Yujin

Community

Abed Nadir

Troy Barnes

Annie Edison

Jeff Winger

Britta Perry

The Obession

Logan

Delilah

The New Girl

Lia Setiawan

Stacey Hoffman

Mythic Quest

Poppy Li

Brad Bakshi

Adventure Time

Finn

Princess Bubblegum

Marceline

Marshall Lee

Prince Bubblegum

Flame Princess

School Spirits

Madison

Simon

Charley (non female readers only)

Wally

Rhonda

Dungeons and Dragons: Honour Among Thieves

Simon Aumar

Disventure Camp

Aiden (non fem readers only)

James (non fem readers only)

Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies

Jane Facciano

Olivia Valdovinos

Nancy Nakagawa

Cynthia Zdunowski

Richie Valdovinos

Ted Lasso

Ted Lasso

Roy Kent

Jamie Tartt

Keeley Jones

Sam Obisanya

Transformers: Rise of the Beasts

Noah Diaz

Elena Wallace

Mirage

Helluva Boss

Blitzø

Stolas (non female readers only)

Loona

Millie

Moxxie

Octavia

Verosika Mayday

Fizzarolli

Asmodeus

Hazbin Hotel

Charlie Morningstar

Vaggie (non male readers only)

Angel Dust (non female readers only)

Husk

Alastor (platonic only)

Vox

Lucifer

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (rise + mutant mayhem + tmnt 2007 + tmnt 2012)

Donnie

Mikey

Raph

Leo

April

The After Party

Yasper Lennov

Space Force

Tony Scarapiducci

Renfield

Teddy Lobo

Robert Montague Renfield

Undercovers

Bill Hoyt

Amazing Digital Circus

Jax

Parks and Recreation

Leslie Knope

Ben Wyatt

April Ludgate

Andy Dwyer

Jean-Ralphio Saperstein

Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja

Randy Cunningham (18+ people DNI unless requesting platonic stories)

The Earliest Show

Josh Bath

House of Lies

Clyde Oberholt

Mean Girls (movie + musical + movie musical)

Cady Heron

Regina George

Gretchen Wieners

Karen Smith/Shetty

Janis Ian/Sarkisian/Imi'ike (non male readers only)

Damian Hubbard (non female readers only)

Warm Bodies

R

Peep World

Nathan Meyerwitz

Your Boyfriend

Peter Dunbar

#froggywritesstuff #tgwdlm x reader #John doe x reader #Heartstopper x reader #do revenge x reader #Deadpool x reader #Wednesday x reader #tomorrow when the war began x reader #treasure Planet X reader #Enola Holmes x reader #love Victor x reader #in treatment x reader #kurt kunkle x reader #once upon a time x reader #dash and Lily x reader #summer days summer nights x reader #venom x reader #honest theif x reader #Ghostbusters Afterlife x reader #Micah Yujin x reader #the obsession x reader #Simon Aumar x reader #rottmnt x reader #ben schwartz x reader #teddy lobo x reader #mean girls #Warm bodies #adventure time #mythic quest #your boyfriend

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Masterlist - 2023

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

𝓡𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓤𝓹𝓵𝓸𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓭 𝓕𝓲𝓬𝓼:

Fanfic Friday 4/28/23

A Rose By Any Other Name - George Weasley X Female (Slytherin/Sirius Black Daughter) Reader; fluff, slight angst

Vet Bills - John Wick X Female (Vet) Reader; fluff, mini angst

Party Games - Steve Rogers X Loki Odinson; fluff, slight angst, Pocky Challenge

Chocolate Surprise - Loki Odinson X Thranduil; fluff

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Alphabetical List -- Updated on 4/28/23 (newly added George Weasley, John Wick, Steve X Loki, and Loki X Thranduil Fics above and below)

Italics = I have already made fanfics on this character if you wanna read them

↑ My Fanfic Masterlist is located on my page, or click here "X Reader Masterlist" Or click on the fandom titles below for the specific Masterlist and/or Character

For Requesting Rules, click here "Request Rules" You may request as many times as you like, as long as you stay along the lines of the said rules above

(Here is a list of songs for characters that inspire me! "Songs"

(Requests Are Open!)

DC | Gotham - Bane (Hardy), Bruce Wayne (Bale), Bruce Wayne (Keaton), Bruce Wayne (Pattinson), Bruce Wayne (Val), Edward Nygma (Carrey), Jack (Heath) Joker, Jason Todd, Jerome Valeska, Jervis Tetch (Gotham), Jonathan Crane (Gotham), Jonathan Crane (Murphy), Klarion Bleak, Maxwell Lord, Richard Grayson, Roman Sionis, Victor Zsasz

CR | Disney - Christopher Robin, Cruella de Vil, Ella (Cinderella 2015), Gaston LeGume (Beauty And The Beast 2017), Jasper Badun

Harry Potter - Cedric Diggory, Draco Malfoy, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Severus Snape

Kingsman - Eggsy Unwin, Hamish Mycroft (Merlin), Harry Hart, Jack Daniels

Marvel | X-Men - Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes, Charles Xavier, Eddie/Venom, Erik Killmonger, Everett Ross, Harry Osborn (TASM), Heimdall, Helmut Zemo, John Allerdyce, Johnny Storm, Kurt Wagner, Logan Howlett, Loki Odinson (Not the Series), M'Baku, Natasha Romanoff, Otto Octavius, Peter Maximoff, Peter Parker (Andrew), Peter Parker (Tobey), Peter Parker (Tom), Pietro Maximoff, Quentin Beck, Sam Wilson, Scott Lang, Shang-Chi, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, Tony Stark, Vision, Wade Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Wenwu

Star Wars | The Mandalorian - Anakin Skywalker, Armitage Hux, Ben Solo/Kylo Ren, Din Djarin, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Rey

Stranger Things - Alexei Smirnoff, Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckey, Jim Hopper, Steve Harrington

The Hobbit / The Lord Of The Rings - Aragorn, Bilbo Baggins, Boromir, Dwalin, Elrond, Faramir, Fili, Kili, Haldir, Legolas Greenleaf, Pippin Took, Samwise Gamgee, Thorin Oakenshield, Thranduil

Pedro Pascal -

(Pedro Pascal Characters Masterlist) (Let me know if I should add any more)

Kingsman - Jack Daniels - Included/Merge Mansion - Tim Rockford/The Last Of Us - Joel Miller - Included/The Mandalorian - Din Djarin - Included/Wonder Woman 1984 - Maxwell Lord

Miscellaneous -

Assassin's Creed - Ezio Auditore da Firenze

Brothers Grimm - Jakob Grimm

BBC & Enola - Sherlock Holmes

Hell Boy - Red (Hellboy), Abe Sapien, and Agent John Myers

Encino Man - Linkavitch "Link" Chomofsky

George Of The Jungle - George

Ghostbusters (2016) - Jillian Holtzmann, Kevin Beckman

Indiana Jones - Indiana Jones

John Wick - John Wick

Jurassic Park - Ian Malcolm

Scooby Doo (2002) - Shaggy Rogers

The Last Of Us - Joel Miller

The Pirates Of The Caribbean - James Norrington, Hector Barbossa

The Phantom Of The Opera - Erik Destler

Uncharted 4 - Sam Drake, Rafe Adler

X-Files - Fox Mulder

(If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to let me know!)

#requests are open #requests open #requested #request #requests #reader #x reader #x gn reader #x female reader #x you #x y/n #mcu marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #dc #dc imagine #dc fandom #dc comcis #masterlist #2023 #poto #the phantom of the opera #the last of us #sherlock holmes #uncharted 4 #xfiles #potc #star wars

[boliv-jenta]

19/08/23

Fic recs

@prolix-yuy Decoherence A Jack Daniels/Westworld AU

@djarinmuse Your Majesty Manda'lor Din Djarin x fem!reader Some Sort of Holy Rite Din Djarin x fem!reader

@missredherring Year of Wishes Maxwell Lord x plus size female reader Genie AU.

My Writing

New series

Summer Schooled/Adult Education

Needing some cash before college, you start babysitting for Mr Miller and Mr York. When you decide to spend the summer teasing them. They decide you need to be taught some lessons.

And It Just Keeps Getting Better

After ten years of pass, you decide to revisit the past and one summer in particular.

It Could Be Better

A down on his luck Max Lord gives male escort work a go. It changes his life even more than he could ever wish for.

After a brief but very successful stint as a male escort. Max hatches his most ambitious business scheme yet. A motel for anyone looking to have their sexual wishes fulfilled.

Series Update

The Watchtower

The Last of Us Magical Western Au

Joel Miller begrudgingly accepts the task of escorting a woman across an America that is fraught with danger from an illness that ravaged the land. The dangers come from the creatures the illness created, as well as the humans that seek to control the powers they wield.

More of Us

Too many late nights playing The Last of Us alone give you one hell of a dream. That's all it is, a dream, right?

One shots

Cleansing Fire

A drabble based on the video for Sia's Fire Meet Gasoline.

Author's note: I'm trying to find a balance between not tagging people and tagging them too much, so I'm going to start just doing a Saturday round up.

Tags: @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @manazo @simpingcowboy @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yourcoolauntie @pedrostories @geekrenaissance @its-nebuleuse @sherala007

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #fic recs #my writing #weekly roundup #taglist #din djarin #joel miller #dave york #maxwell lord #the last of us au #the equalizer 2 #ww84 #smut #joel miller x f!reader #dave york x f!reader #maxwell lord x f!reader

[wardenparker]

In the Heights, part 2

Maxwell Lord x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.1k   Warnings: Domestic fantasies/fluff, friends to lovers, Alistair being adorable, food/alcohol mentions, cursing. Fingering, vaginal sex, protected sex, praise/worship. Summary: Your relationship with Max grows quickly after that fateful night. Notes: Part 2 of 2! Max deserves nice things, too, and I will not apologize for that 💖 Again, apologies for any missed typos or the like. I'm still on a buttload of cold medicine. Thanks for reading!

Max’s heart is in his throat as he takes your hand to lead you to his bedroom. The last woman he had kissed had been Barbra, and it hadn’t been under the most honest of circumstances. The last woman he had slept with? Well, he didn’t want to admit to that.

Your identical apartments make it easy to navigate in the darkness of night, as Max flips off each switch as you follow the hall to the master bedroom. “It’s okay.” You murmur quietly, convinced that this time you did see his hand shake as he shut off the light. “I’m nervous, too.”

“It– it has been a long time for me.” He admits quietly, trying not to let himself feel guilty for not being a more accomplished lover.

“For me, too.” The last light is the one in his bedroom and that one is flipped on instead of off, letting him see you smile softly. “We don’t have to do anything tonight if it’s too much. We can just lay in bed and talk and maybe have a kiss goodnight, if that’s what you want.”

“I think we would both be disappointed.” Max squeezes your hand and shakes his head. “I think we have waited long enough, no?” If you changed your mind, he would respect that, but he wants to touch you.

“Oh, definitely.” Your fingers lace through his and your smile turns beaming. “I was just trying to be considerate.”

Instead of saying something, Max steps closer to you and leans in, dropping his lips onto yours. Starting another kiss that makes his toes curl and his cock twitch.Wiping hesitation from your mind, your back bends to accommodate the kiss, welcoming him closer and bringing him tight against you with one arm. The other hand grasps blindly for his door knob to give you both privacy. When the door clicks shut, he pushes you against it. Pressing against you while he gropes for the lock. His other hand on the back of your neck as his tongue slides into your mouth.

The whimper it earns him is deep, coming up from somewhere in the vicinity of your toes and rolling along your spine until your whole body is on fire with wanting. Sliding your tongue along his is like a long-awaited homecoming and you swallow each other’s moans eagerly. Maybe it’s been a while for both of you, but that possibly only makes you all the more enthusiastic.

It feels amazing, holding you close and feeling like he isn’t going to be pushed away and rebuked. Or feel like he hadn’t measured up.

Your fingers are faster than your mind, finding the buttons on his shirt before you can even have the conscious thought of wanting him naked. The fact that that is even a possibility makes you feel like you're about to burst – and makes your hands work even faster.

Max cannot even fathom the luck he must have for this to be possible. His hands ghost up and down your sides before he starts to unbutton your own blouse. “Hermosa.”

Fumbling fingers seem not to care all that much for focus – knowing their task but going about it clumsily as the taste of his lips and the glide of his tongue prove more intoxicating than any drink you could possibly have had at the bar. When the last button on Max’s shirt is finally open you groan in frustration to find another layer underneath – the man wearing a proper undershirt even in the summer heat - and you nudge him back from the door to the bed. “It’s coming off,” you insist, pushing the short-sleeved button up off his shoulders. “Every stitch of it.”

He hums, slightly shuddering when he feels your fingers on his bare shoulder. He should be self conscious, wondering if he is too soft, too hard, too tan for you, but none of those concerns seem to materialize. Not when you look at him like he is a god. Your bra is pretty, practical and when he sees the white lace, it thrills him and his hands come up to cup the weight, feeling it in his hands with a loud groan. "You too, I want– I want to see all of you." He admits breathlessly. "Touch all of you."

"You can." All of you. To hear him shake with the words like they're some kind of gift is so gratifying, and you reach back to undo your bra and cast it aside as easily as breathing. If he wants all of you? He can have every inch. A part of you truly always has been his anyway.

Max has always liked breasts, the sight and feel of them wonderful in his hands or when he noticed a woman’s cleavage. He wasn’t a cad, he didn’t leer, but he is close to leering now. Hands hovering over your skin now that it is bare and feeling the heat radiating off your skin. “Beautiful.” He praises softly. “Perfection.”

Your laugh is so soft that he almost misses it, but the smile on your lips is unmistakable when you step forward to press your breasts into his open, tentative hands. "They're better if you actually touch them."

Max groans and shakes his head, only slightly embarrassed by his near frozen reaction to your bare breasts. “You are teasing me, but I do not mind.” He declares, squeezing them gently before brushing his palms over your nipples.

The truth is that you wouldn't tease him if you didn't find it so endearing, but the explanation is wiped from your mind the second he brushes the hard peaks of your nipples, making you moan. He can explore all he likes - take all night finding out what each of your favorite places to be touched is - but he's damn well going to be naked doing it and your own hands reach for his belt again eagerly.

It had been a long time since someone touched him so eagerly. Genji was as inexperienced as he was, and after a while, her eagerness waned when he proved his attention was elsewhere. Chasing the unattainable.

His legs hit the bed frame first, backs of his knees buckling when he nearly topples over, but his belt hits the floor well before that can happen. That sound - metal clicking on metal and leather thudding on the rug - seems to release all inhibitions. The slow and methodical undressing is instantly over, and you lean forward to claim his lips in a frantic renewed kiss as clothing flies in every direction.

The slacks you are wearing confuse him for a moment, making him growl into your mouth. Why are they zippered on the side of your waist? The kisses don’t break as he fumbles and finally gets the damn things undone without just ripping the pants, although the worst thing would have been if he had tried and failed to rip your clothes off of you. Pushing them down desperately before nearly crying out in pleasure when your hand wraps around his cock.

Your own groan is lower than his, feeling the heft and thickness of him in your hand and luxuriating in the fact that you're actually here with him. "Can't wake Alistair," you remind him between shallow breaths, the sound catching in your throat when you feel his fingers tentatively catch at the dripping entrance of your pussy. "Fuck Max."

“Say that again.” He begs, turning you both so that you roll over onto your back and he is hovering over you. His eyes burn with need as his fingers begin a slow, measured tour around your entrance and up through your folds. Wanting to learn what makes you say his name just like that, so he can do it every time he touches you.

"Fucking hell." He's slowed his pace again, watching every minute expression on your face, and you have to wonder if this is some kind of study he's made of you on other things or if he just desperately wants to hear his name from your lips again. Either way, it slips from you as easily as breathing when two of his fingers slide into your entrance. Your eyes widen and your fingernails dig into his shoulder but "Max!" is clear and desperate as you writhe beneath him.

It’s been so long since Max has held this kind of control. Over himself, over someone else, and he loves it. The groan from the hot clutch of your pussy rubbles out of his throat, several octaves deeper than normal and he curls his fingers up as he pushes them deep. Eager to see how you enjoy the thickness of his digits.

"Fuck–fuck." You might have been the one that reminded him to be quiet but that doesn't mean you aren't going to let him know exactly what he does to you. You spread your legs wider instinctively. He may only have two fingers inside you but it feels like more from how thick they are. All of him is thick, cock included, but you lost your grip on him when he rolled you over and now you're swimming in pleasure. "More," you beg brokenly, hips moving like they have a mind of their own.

He nods even though your eyes are closed. Leaning in and kissing along your shoulder and neck as he slowly starts to push his fingers in and out of your tight cunt. “Te amo, mi amor.” He hasn’t tried to use his native tongue in so long, it feels rusty, foreign in his mouth, although those words seem to come straight from his battered heart.

"Te amo." As easy and honest as the words are, they fill you up and wash over you with a warmth that you can't possibly describe. The crashing of that emotion over your heart is as earnest as the roll of your hips against his hand, and the fingers of one hand come up to thread through his hair and encourage his mouth to explore your body. "Siempre, mi amor." Always.

His kisses scatter over your skin, although he feels the slight pressure of your hand. He lets you guide him, finger still pumping into you easily as he opens you up more, pressing deeper every time your hips roll down. Kissing across your breast, he moans as he takes your nipple into his mouth.

The chain reaction through your body is almost immediate - back arching off the bed, toes curling, and mouth opening to let out the deepest and most indulgent moan that reverberates through the room. The pace of his fingers is perfect, the wet heat of his mouth on your chest making you feel like you might short circuit before he's even inside you. "Just like that," you sigh out, hips rolling down to meet his hand on every stroke. "Oh fuck–fuck– 'm so close baby."

He groans around the stiff peak of your nipple and grazes it with his teeth. Enjoying the way your pussy clenches down around him wildly now. “Cum for me, amor.” He rasps out, sucking on your tit again after managing those words and watching your face intently.

To hear those words from him is something of a miracle, and one that you don't think you will stop being grateful for no matter how many times you hear it. There is no reason to hold back, no propriety you have to obey, only pleasure. Only his voice begging you to flood his hand with liquid heat and bring you that much closer together. It's an incredible thing, to find yourself chasing your peak on his fingers, and your hips take on an erratic speed as you do just that. Uneven breaths become a shuddering gasp in mere minutes and your entire body seems to seize as it bares down on him, that gorgeous tingling in your spine and belly bursting as when you moan his name just the moment before you start to cum.

Besides the moment he held Alistair, this has to be the most beautiful moment of Max’s life. Throbbing against your hip, he swears he could cum himself as he feels your pleasure fill his hand and coat his fingers in a liquid rush of heat. Making him moan your name as your hips jerk in pleasure.

"Max." His name comes in pants as you float back to earth, but your whines are from blissed out pleasure and not a single damn thing else. "Do you—" Thoughts and movements aren't quite lining up, as you point to the bedside table but duck your head to steal a kiss. "Condoms?”

Thanking God that you had thought about that, for Max surely hadn’t, he presses kiss after kiss to your lips and he reluctantly pulls his fingers free from your warmth so he can fumble with the drawer. He had bought some long ago, but it wasn’t like he was using them. Hopefully they were still in date.

You would have sprinted back across the hall to get some from your own room if you had to, but luckily Max comes away from the drawer with a foil packet in his hand. “Perfect,” you hum, still catching your breath as you reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock one more time.

“Shit.” Max hisses, his entire body shuddering from the touch and he can’t help but rock his hips forward. “I don’t– I don’t know how much I will please you.” He confesses quietly. “It has been a long time since I’ve been with someone.”

“Amor…” your free hand cups his cheek, thumb gently running along his jawline to coax him open for a sweet kiss. “I am not suggesting we train for Olympic medals in stamina tonight. I just… I only want to feel you.”

He is comforted by that, hating when he feels inferior as he so often does. “I want to make sure that you enjoy yourself.” He bites his lip and leans in to kiss you again.

If you could, you would promise him you aren’t worried about that. At all. But you’re too busy moaning into his kiss for any words to be coherent. Instead you hitch your leg up on his hip, encouraging him to fill that so e between you — and inside you.

He has to break the kiss, needing to open the packet and roll the protection down his length so that he can finally make love to you. He’s already sweating when he hovers over you on his knees, looking down at you spread out in invitation and he groans softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You have for so many years that it feels like taking a deep breath to finally say so. It feels like bursting, and you don’t mind admitting it in the least.

He moves slowly, savoring the moment as he presses close and starts to break you open on his cock. Rocking forward as he tries to keep his weight off you and kiss you gently.

It’s a big feeling for such a gentle movement. As a grown man, every part of Max is thick. It’s a departure from the lanky, rail thin boy he once was, and this version of him surrounds and fills you in a way you hadn’t expected. He blocks the whole world out – and becomes your whole world. Although you have to admit, as your mouth falls open on a drawn on, bliss filled moan, a part of him always has been.

He’s overwhelmed and groaning with you. It’s the closest to heaven that he’s ever been. His eyes flutter as he continues to stretch you out until he is full seated and panting.

“Need you to move, baby.” As good as he feels fully seated inside you, you have no doubt that it will feel twice as amazing with the friction building in your cunt.

“Okay.” He grunts out, nodding quickly and his hand curls into a fist as he pulls his hips back. Hating pulling out of you, as you are so tight and hot.

“Oh fuck—” As soon as he draws back the wave of pleasure rippling through your body gets stronger, and you whine on the next thrust forward. Your body is aching with wanting him, no part of you more desperate than your grasping pussy.

He rolls his hips forward with slow, determined purpose. His fist is curled still, teeth clenched together as he tries to hold himself back. Wanting to last in this perfect moment for as long as he can. “B–beauti–ful.” He groans.

Wandering hands map his body, committing the peaks and valleys of him to memory. Taking all of him in as you set a slow but steady pace together that promises to be the first of many nights like this. There is no questioning that fact, and you commit yourself to deep kisses and the feeling of home in being in his bed. There is not a moment of this night that isn’t perfect in all its imperfect glory.

Soft grunts and groans accompany every thrust. Barely keeping it together and pushing for more, Max feels like this is probably the pinnacle of his life. Nothing could get better than this. You love him, you want him, your body soft and pliant under his tells him that. Every wordless praise being moaned into his ear makes him stronger.

Giving yourself over to the moment means losing track of everything else. All that matters is the feeling of Max above you - bending your knees back, angling your hips just so, mouthing at your breasts and neck and jaw in alternation with drowning kisses. He surrounds you fully, building you up toward another undeniable peak.

“Please.” His groan is almost a prayer, chanted into your skin as he works you both towards that goal. Hoping he is dragging you along as he tries to touch and feel every part of you. His fingers find your clit as he pushes a hand between you to fumble inelegantly for a moment before he finds the right spot.

"Max–fuck–" Your hips buck when his fingers skate over your clit, legs shaking at the intensity and sensitivity in that nub as you sprint closer to a second orgasm. "So good, baby, you fuck me so good and I'm so close."

He moans, eyes closed as he absorbs the praise, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts to give you that extra sensation. “Wanna feel you amor.” He rasps out next to your ear. “Cum for me.”

For your entire adult life (plus a few years) you would have given anything to hear his voice dip and purr like that. You’ve imagined it so many times that it almost feels surreal. But hearing it for real - close to your ear and punctuated with labored pants and groans all his own - the effect is almost instant. Your body shakes apart at the seams, washing your mind away on a sea of pleasure and letting a torrent of praises loose with his name. If you could fuse the two of you together body and soul, this would be the moment it happened, but as it is you’ll just have to settle for giving him those last pieces of your heart and trusting him to keep them safe.

Choking out an inhuman sound, Max tries to keep from cumming. It’s like trying to hold back an avalanche with a snowboard. Jerking to a stop halfway through a thrust, he slams his hips forward and buries himself in the spasming confines of your body and whimpers your name as his world comes apart at the seams.

His bedroom had been so full of sound only seconds ago, but it quiets to heavy breathing and a few shaky moans after he collapses on top of you, sticky seed collected harmlessly in the condom for tonight. Sometime later you’ll address the keen burst of wishing he had painted your womb with it instead. That is a thought for another day. For now you dust his face and shoulders in kisses and hold him close, cradling his bulk on top of you like a precious treasure.

“Fuck.” Max pants, unable to move off of you even if he knows he is heavy. “That- please tell me you enjoyed it.” He begs, wanting to know that he didn’t disappoint you.

“Baby.” You giggle, unable to keep even false admonishment in your tone. “You’re amazing.”

He sighs in relief, the weight off his mind and he groans as he shifts off of you, hating that he has to pull out. He could sleep inside you. “Good. That is good.”

The two of you roll to your sides, letting go of each other only long enough for him to toss the tied-off condom in the bin by the bed before he turns back to you. “Is it…okay if I stay the night?” At the moment you’re not quite sure you could manage to walk back across the hall, but if he doesn’t want Alistair to ask questions or have any hint of things you’ll respect that fully.

“You want to- of course.” He nods, grinning eagerly as he strides back over and then stops quickly. “Let me get you water.” He decides. “You need it. And some aspirin. I’ll be right back.”

“You need it, too,” you remind him. He was right there beside you at the bar tonight, after all.

He doesn’t put on his underwear because he knows Alistair won’t wake up. He is a very deep sleeper when he finally drifts off.

Max reemerges a few minutes later with a bottle of aspirin and two glasses of water and you grin at him from your place in his bed. “So…” you giggle again quietly. “This happened…”

“This happened.” He can’t help but grin again, glancing down at his flaccid cock and soft belly. “No regrets?”

“Never,” you promise him.

He smiles, slightly self conscious and slips into the bed beside you. “Do you mind if I set an alarm?” He asks, hoping he doesn’t offend you. “I want to be up before Alistair is.” He explains.

“Of course.” The last thing he wants is to surprise his little boy with something so huge and you completely understand that. “I can…go back across the hall? If you want? It's up to you how much he knows or how soon.”

“No.” He is frowning and shaking his head as he slides his arm around you to pull you close. “I don’t want that. I just want to make sure that we tell him, not him discovering us together.”

“You want to tell him right away?” The only other man you had ever dated with a child had insisted on waiting more than six months to tell his little girl, and while you had understood it had made you feel a little bit like a dirty secret. “I—I mean, if that’s what you want, I’m all for it. I just didn’t expect it.”

“I don’t mind telling Alistair.” He frowns slightly. “I think we should. I just want to make sure he understands that dating someone and being in a relationship with them includes respect.”

“Then we’ll tell him tomorrow.” You snuggle into his side, grinning like a maniac. “He’ll probably be thrilled to spend more time with the cat.”

Max snorts and tugs you slightly closer, enjoying the weight and warmth of you on him. “Probably ask you to move in with the cat.”

“One day.” The thought makes you hum happily as he pulls you in. “Maybe not right away.”

“Make sure you actually want to put up with me before that.” He cautions. “Things have changed since we were children.”

“Who knows?” He’s right, but you know in your heart that nothing has changed so much that you don’t still love him. The man who made those mistakes is not the man he truly is. “I might have things about me that you don’t want to put up with.”

"I don't care if you squeeze the toothpaste from the middle or if you snore." Max huffs, rolling his eyes. "You have always been someone I have loved and admired."

“I might snore,” you admit, tucking into his side a little deeper and grinning. “It’s been a long time since anyone was in a position to tell me.”

He hums, and curls himself around you a little tighter. "I'll tell you." He promises with a small laugh.

“Max?” With the light out and him curled around you, the urge to sleep is coming on strong.

"What is it, amor?" He keeps his voice soft, rubbing your back gently.

The honorific makes you smile, lips upturned against his chest. “I’m glad you came out with us tonight.”

"Me too." He can only be grateful that he came out, smiling as he holds you in his arms. "Me too."

******

Without the alarm you definitely would have overslept, too comfortable in each other’s arms to want to move anywhere too fast. But because it was set, you're up and making pancakes when Alistair wakes up, happily sipping a cup of coffee with the radio playing quietly in the other room while Max makes bacon beside you.

"Do you like your bacon crispy?" He asks, grateful that you reminded him to put a shirt on when the grease pops and he jumps back. "Or on the limp side?"

“Crispy, please.” Until Alistair wakes up, you’re going to enjoy kissing him and cuddling him, even at the stove.

There is a sense of rightness to cooking with you, a homeyness that he can't replicate no matter how involved he tries to be or how many new cook books he checks out of the library. You just make things better. "Crispy it is." He winks at you and lifts a shoulder. "Maybe a little black if. you distract me with more kisses."

“Oops.” You feign innocence despite not feeling guilty in the least and flip the three pancakes in your pan. “We wouldn’t want that.”

"No, we wouldn't." He drops a kiss on your temple and turns back to his own pan. "Alistair loves pancakes, you are going to win him over first thing."

“Why do you think I suggested it?” It’s just a tease, and a quick batting of your eyelashes, but when you hear little feet hit the floor at the end of the hall you can’t help but smile. “I think he’s finally up.”

"He slept in late." Max checks the clock on the wall next to the phone and then at the doorway where Alistair comes stumbling in, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Hey buddy." He greets his son happily. "Did we bother you?"

“Noooo.” Voice still full of sleep, the little boy stretches in his Star Wars pajamas and looks up at you both. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Pancakes and bacon.” Max answers with a smile at his sleepy son. “Do you want some scrambled eggs too?”

“Yes p’ease.” He nods and rubs his eyes but never takes his eyes off his father. It’s abundantly obvious to anyone who sees them together, how much Alistair loves his dad. “Can I play with Dantes today?”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Max looks over at you and then moves the pan off the stove to walk over to the boy. “Can I ask you something?” He asks, crouching down and reaching for his son.

“Are you okay, daddy?” Alistair asks, little eyebrows raising in immediate concern.

“Oh yeah.” Max assures him with a serious look. “I’m really good.” He rubs Alistair’s stomach gently and looks back at you. “I wanted to know if you would be alright with me asking your friend on a date.” He poses seriously. “Since I know how much you like her, it’s only fair I ask.”

“Like a fancy date?” Alistair’s eyes light up with vague memories of when his mother would put on dresses and go out to dinner with men or the dates that he saw in movies. “A romantical one?”

“If that’s okay.” Max nods and looks back at you before staring into his son’s soft eyes.

“It has to be someplace nice.” Alistair tells his father as seriously as possible. “She’s a nice lady.”

Max chuckles, nodding quickly. “It will be very nice.” He promises. “Perhaps you could help me pick it out. If you are okay with us dating?” He feels like his son is saying yes, but he wants to be sure.

Alistair nods enthusiastically, but when he turns to you on the other side of the stove, his large eyes are even wider than usual. “Do you want to date my Daddy?” He asks, seemingly a little afraid of the question. Or maybe the answer. The fact that he checks with you – as if you hadn’t been standing here listening the whole time – is so sweet.

“I really do, honey,” you tell Alistair honestly, feeling a wide smile bloom across your face. “I like your dad a whole lot.”

“Yay! He’s a good dad!” He promises you enthusiastically. “He didn’t spend a lot of time with me before but that’s changed and he’s playing with me every night, reading with me, he’s even reading cooking books so he can make more than macaroni and cheese.”

“Oh yeah?” Of course you did know about Max’s efforts to cook better food at home more often, but there is no reason that Alistair needs to know that the baked pasta his daddy makes him now that is loaded with meat sauce and veggies, is actually your recipe. “I think he’s a really good dad and a really good friend, so that means he’ll probably be a really good boyfriend, too.”

“I don’t know.” Alistair tells you honestly, looking back at his dad. “Are you going to bring her flowers and tell her she’s pretty? You need to tell her she’s pretty.” He insists, making Max chuckle. “I will bring her flowers and I will tell her that she’s hermosa.” Alistair frowns in confusion. “It means ‘beautiful’ in Spanish, Alistair. That is the first language I spoke when I was a boy, remember?”

“Right…” He thinks for a second, searching his memory while you pull the last pancakes out of the pan. “Sí! That’s right, isn’t it Daddy?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s right.” Max beams, not ashamed of his first language and passing it down to his son. The assholes he had grown up being tormented by could not say they spoke two languages. If he was lucky enough, Alistair would know three.

“Mrs. Ramos speaks Spanish, too.” The woman who babysat him watched her ‘stories’ after he went to bed but he could always hear them.

“She does.” He nods and smiles. “My girlfriend–” he lights up when he calls you that, “–also knows Spanish. I think we will speak more at home in the future.”

The light in your eyes brightens measurably at the word, and you nod to Alistair when the last pancakes go on the platter for the table. “The first person who ever taught me Spanish was your abuela,” you tell him with a grin. “Your grandmother. She was a very nice lady.”

Max smiles sadly, wishing that Alistair could have met her, gone long before her time. Beaten down and broken by his father. “She was.”

“You said you were friends for a long time,” Alistair follows his father to the table with a stack of napkins and forks while his father carries the platter of bacon and pancakes. “But how come we never spent time with her before?”

“We had lost touch after we went away to college.” Max admits. “I was concentrating on making myself successful.”

“Now we are better than friends.” You might combust a little anytime Max calls you his girlfriend, but it’s such a good feeling. So comfortable and so right.

Alistair thinks about Max’s explanation for a moment before he nods, accepting it as the truth. “Just don’t be dumb and kiss another girl like Jimmy Smith was last week.” He huffs. “He has no girlfriends now.”

You have to smother your reaction to keep from laughing out loud, and end up giggling behind your hand while you pour orange juice for all three of you. “That is pretty dumb.” Hell, you can’t fault the kid for getting it on the nose.

“She is the only woman I want to kiss.” Max solemnly vows, his lips twitching to keep from smiling in amusement. It’s incredibly endearing how seriously he is taking this and Max pulls him closer for a hug. “So it’s cool with you? As the kids say now?”

He seems to consider it, looking between the two adults with drawn seriousness on his face before he leans over and whispers in his father’s ear. “Does that mean she’s going to be my new mom?” He asks, careful not to sound too hopeful or too curious. Sometimes when his Mom had had a new boyfriend, she would tell Alistair that the man who would be his new daddy. But it had never happened.

Alistair nods, slowly at first like he’s absorbing the idea, but he sits down at the chair after a moment and looks up at his father again with a smile. “Okay. Just as long as we don’t move far again. That was a lot of driving and boxes and stuff.”

“Understood, not too far.” Max chuckles and has to admit that this didn’t go too badly. He hugs his son and then stands up. “Let me scramble some eggs and we will have breakfast.”

You and Alistair set the table while he’s busy, and you slip back into the kitchen to grab the syrup a few minutes later with a grin on your face. “Well, I guess he’s okay with it.”

“As long as I tell you that you’re pretty.” Max reminds you, reaching over and snagging your waist to pull you close. “So I need to tell you how pretty you are this morning. Seeing you sleeping in my bed.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice dips low and makes you shiver slightly, but you bask in it. “Did you enjoy waking up next to me as much as I enjoyed waking up next to you?”

“I think that I enjoyed it more.” He teases, leaning in and kissing your lips. “Watching your sleepy eyes open and your smile made my year, amor.”

“I love you.” The words are so easy, but make your chest feel like it could burst with joy. “So much, Max.”

“I love you too.” It’s a huge thing for such simple words, but it makes him feel as if anything is possible.

“We should go back in there.” Even though you could spend all day basking in his smiles and kissing him silly, you know weekends are devoted time to be spent with his little boy. “Maybe the three of us can go out today? A museum or a walk in the park?”

“That sounds like a good day together.” He nods. “Perhaps a trip back to the library? Alistair wants to check out some more books since he’s finished the ones he has now.”

“I love a library day.” And maybe, just maybe, you might pick up your own manuscript again. There is an idea forming in the back of your mind that seems to grow every time Max smiles at you.

“Good.” He nods. “Go sit and I will bring the food out.”

“Yes, sir.” Teasing him with a very serious little mock salute, you grab the bottle of maple syrup from the fridge and steal a kiss before heading through the breakfast table.

Max brings the plates of food through once he’s done, happy to find you and Alistair giggling at the table. He’s struck again by how right all of these seems and he grins. “Who’s hungry?”

Alistair cheers and you grin, sitting back at the table with a soft, contented sigh. This feels right, and you are very happy to just let things happen as they come.

******

“Hermosa? Alistair? Are you home?” You had left early while Max had to stay late, so he is coming through the door without you. “Hello?” His excited voice carries through the apartment and he quickly shoves his keys into the bowl and kicks off his shoes.

“In the kitchen!” You call back, having taken the extra time at home with Alistair to start on making dinner. The weather is finally cool again and the little boy you love like your own has requested posole for dinner. The recipe that you had learned from his mother back in high school has become a favorite over the last few months. “Ali is building something grand with his Legos and Dantes is supervising,” you tell Max when he comes into the kitchen. “What did you have to stay late for, amor?”

“I – I did something.” He confesses, unable to stop himself from grinning as he snags a pepper and pops it into his mouth. You have practically moved into his apartment since that day. Your clothes are over in your space simply because there is nowhere to fit them here and Dantes’ toys and cat tree are in his living room, the cat himself having claimed Alistair as his sleeping partner while you are wrapped up with Max every night.

“Should I be concerned?” Given that he looks excited you’re not too suspicious, but you put the lid on the pot to let dinner cook and go over to give him a kiss.

“Unless you do not wish for this.” Max pulls a long, flat piece of plastic out of his pocket to hand to you along with several pamphlets.

“What is it?” The little packet might as well be tied up with string for how he presents it to you, but the plastic placard slides right out into your hand first. Max Lorenzano it reads in font and style identical to the nameplate on your office at work. “What’s—?” The rest of the packet is advertisements for apartments – bigger places in newer buildings or neighborhoods uptown that you know he couldn’t afford right now but had been dreaming about. “Did you—baby did you get a promotion?”

“There was a position for a Spanish language editor.” He reminds you quietly. “I didn’t tell you, but I applied for it.” He hadn’t wanted to get your hopes up, or his own if he were honest. Or if he didn’t get the job, he didn’t want you to be upset on his behalf. He was grateful the publishing house gave him the job as a janitor, so he had no wish to sour your experience. “I had my final interview tonight. That was why I had to stay.”

“You’re kidding?” You had known the position was open, and seen some people going in and out of the Editor-in-Chief’s office, but it hasn’t been something that you had brought up because you didn’t know if it would be something he was interested in. Now, though? You practically throw your arms around him in celebration. “That’s huge! That’s amazing, it’s— baby, I’m so proud of you!”

Laughing, Max lets himself fully enjoy the moment. Clinging to you as you jostle him in your own excitement. He had been working with Alistair on the boy’s Spanish and he had decided that he would go for the position with no expectations. Luckily, his dedication to the job hadn’t gone unnoticed and he had gotten the position. “You will not mind having me come in and being an editor as well, will you?”

“Mind? Honey, it’s fantastic!” Your arms around his waist squeeze tightly again as you beam at him. Max was never happy with the idea of making a career as a janitor but he liked the company and all of your coworkers, so he was working hard and taking pride in the work that he did have. This is far more than you expected, though. “You’re going to be amazing. And—” The pamphlets in your hand now make much more sense. “Is this…an invitation?”

“I– it makes no sense for us to spend so much money on two apartments.” Max tells you, biting his lip. “I was thinking we could all look for a place and pick it out together?” His brows raise in question and he looks for the world like a hopeful little boy.

“Are you asking me to officially move in with you?” Although you’ve been effectively living together for the last six months, calling this an official move would be the next large step forward in your relationship. It would also be a big bit of permanence for Alistair.

“I am.” Reaching for your hands, Max kisses the back of them, still holding his offerings. “I want to choose the house, apartment, home where we all live - together.”

“You must have some favorites already.” You hold up the pamphlets he had brought you. “Dinner is finishing. Why don’t we look and see what’s here?”

“Of course.” Max nods eagerly. “And if you don’t like any of these, we can look elsewhere. I just wanted to get started looking and these are within a healthy budget.” One thing he had learned was to live within his means and with security comes a wealth of happiness.

“Tell me what you found.” The stools at the kitchen counter are the perfect place to talk, and you sit down together eagerly. “Are they nearby? Oh…probably not all of them? Since you mentioned maybe a house?”

“There is a townhouse.” Max admits, pulling a flier from the bottom of the stack. “It needs some work, but it’s well discounted to account for that.” He lays it on the table and his eyes flash with excitement. “In Greenwich village. And it has a garden.”

“A townhouse?” One eyebrow raises in interest as he pulls out the paperwork from the real estate agent. It’s a beautiful neighborhood, one that you sometimes go to for dates and for entertainment. You’ve both mooned over the apartments and housing there plenty of times but you never thought you could afford it. “Is the work reasonable for us to do ourselves? I don’t mind doing floors and painting and all that kind of stuff.” It actually sounds kind of exciting. The idea of fully making it your home.

“There’s some things we would need to have done.” Max admits, tapping the page. “It needs some bathroom remodel, but I think that I know someone.” He grins. “Dan says he’s got a brother who’s a contractor. Will give us a discounted rate if I teach his daughter Spanish.”

“Then we should check it out.” He’s so excited that it makes the prospect automatically more attractive immediately, and you lean forward to kiss him before shuffling through the papers some more. There is a decent-sized apartment in a different part of Washington Heights, another townhouse but this time in Brooklyn, and even a cute little house in Queens. “I wouldn’t mind a commute,” you admit, looking at the picture of the little blue house with two floors and clean white window panes.

“Anywhere you want.” Max promises, loving that you are getting excited. “I just want to live with you and Alistair and Dantes.” He chuckles. “And maybe if we have room, a dog like my son wants.”

“Be careful of giving your son whatever he wants,” you chuckle knowingly. “This afternoon he told me he’s going to ask Santa for a little brother for Christmas.”

“He is?” His eyes widen and he wonders what you said to him.

“That’s what he said.” The look of almost smothered excitement on Max’s face makes you grin. “I told him that it takes a long time to make a little brother, though. So it might take Santa a little while. This Christmas might be too soon.”

“And that’s something you want? In the future?” Max confirms.

“A baby?” You almost laugh, but it would be a little mean when he’s looking at you so earnestly, so instead you reach for both of his hands to squeeze them. “I would love it, amor. But only if you want it, too.”

“Perhaps we should focus on homes with three bedrooms.” Max dreams quietly.

“Sounds like you like the idea.” You hum softly. “A cute little place with a yard for the kids to play in and maybe even a dog to keep Dante’s company.”

“I do like the idea.” He admits it easily. It’s easy to admit what he wants with you.

“I do, too.” It’s what you have always wanted with him and you feel like you live in a dream to see it coming true. “We should check out Brooklyn and Queens.”

“Okay. I will call the realtor tomorrow.” Max agrees with a grin.

“I’ll start doing some research on schools.” It won’t be too much love lost, since Alistair hasn’t made many friends at PS 117, but you want to make sure that wherever you choose will have good schools for him. And for his little sibling.

“Thank you.” He flashes you a smile and swallows. “I start the new job on Monday.”

“I’m really so proud of you, amor.” One of your hands cups his cheek and you feel like your heart could just burst from it. “You’ve been so helpful in helping with my book that I just know you’re going to be great with everyone else’s, too.”

“I don’t understand why it has taken you so long to finish it.” He huffs. “It’s remarkable. You should have been published years ago.”

“I guess I just needed the right inspiration.” You hum, pressing a kiss to each of his hands. Somehow Max has still not picked up on the fact that the love story you have been trying to write for so many years has a male lead based on him.

“Hmmm, I don’t know about that.” He shakes his head and bites his lip as he looks towards the stove. “So if I wanted to take you and Alistair out to celebrate, tomorrow would be best?”

“I think he’d be disappointed not to have posole tonight, so tomorrow sounds good.” Still, kissing him is completely irresistible. “But tomorrow we can go wherever you want to celebrate.”

“You made posole?” He lights up and leans in to kiss you again. “You are so good to me - to us.”

“Alistair’s special request and your mom’s recipe.” You beam under his praise and grin up at him. “Gotta keep my boys full and strong so they can keep making me proud.”

“I am glad that he is enjoying parts of my heritage that I tried so hard to bury.” Max admits with a slightly bashful expression. His natural accent has come back slightly, but he has trained it out of his speech that there is only a hint of it in some words. You both have started speaking Spanish at home to help Alistair improve his own command of the language.

“We are allowed to grow and change over time, amor.” Reaching to squeeze his hand, you can only offer him support with the knowledge that he has left so much of his heritage behind because of cruelty and ignorance from your classmates. “It’s good to see both of you embracing where you come from.”

“Genji said she wants to work on his command of Chinese when he is with her.” He tells you, proud of his son’s ability to learn multiple languages before any formal offering.

“That’s fantastic.” His mother has been a little more present lately, even though she still lives in DC and Max and Alistair are firmly settled in New York. He had spent Thanksgiving with her and will be in DC for the second half of his winter break. Max and Genji are making it work and you’re proud of the way he is keeping his promises and his commitments. “If he has some favorite recipes that she makes, we can add them into the rotation here, too. So he can have his Latin and his Chinese home cooking.”

“That would be good. She used to make this crispy beef that was amazing.” Max admits. “Although there is good Chinese takeout, it’s not the same.”

“Would it be okay with you if I called her for the recipe?” Max’s ex-wife has been surprisingly supportive of your relationship since she adjusted to the news that he is seeing someone. Your history together seemed to have won her over when she learned the whole story.

“That would be good. Alistair would appreciate that.” Max would too, but the idea of creating his son’s favorite meals at home would be fun.

You want to make a joke about making sure he knows you’re Step-Mom Material, but it isn’t a topic you’ve talked about with any seriousness yet. From time to time one of you will point out a favorite place in the city and remark that it would be good for a wedding - or see a commercial for a destination vacation and hun about a honeymoon. But there aren’t any plans yet and that is more than okay.

“Do you want to go look at the houses tomorrow?” He asks, excited about looking with you. It’s different, he doesn’t want big and flashy, he wants something he can take care of you and Alistair in.

“Absolutely.” He’s so excited about it that you are more than happy to agree. “Do you want to bring Al?”

“What do you think? Give him a say? Or should we narrow down the choices and then show him?” He asks you, wanting your input. You have been great with Alistair.

“It might be overwhelming for him to see every option,” you admit, knowing that there will be plenty of reasons not to choose a place that he won’t be aware of. “Let’s see if Señora Ramos is available after we make a few realtor appointments. We can take him to see our top choices?”

“That sounds like a solid plan.” Max agrees, happy with that since that is what he was thinking. He wants his son to be included, but he’s not going to know which school district is better.

“Have I mentioned how proud of you I am?” Of course you have, but you beam at him as you shift back over to the stove to give dinner a stir.

“I don’t know if it is possible without you, amor.” He admits, sliding behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips press to your neck and he sighs. “I wish I had kissed you on prom night.”

“Maybe we’d still be right here if you had.” The warmth and breadth of him against your back is comforting and you lean into it easily. “Standing in our kitchen making dinner, with Alistair playing with his pet completely oblivious to our snuggling.”

“Maybe.” It’s a sweet and heady thought. He kisses your neck softly and smiles against your skin. “And later on, I’ll make love to you.”

"That's my favorite part of the day." With Alistair asleep in the other room, with the cat lazing about doing cat things, with the day ended and nothing but each other to focus on, ending every day in his arms is wonderful.

“Mine too.” Max chuckles. “Unless you count waking up with you drooling on my chest.” He teases. You had only done it once, but he had thought your sheepish apology was cute.

That earns him an immediate pout from you, but you know he has every right to tease you about it now and then. "Your chest is my favorite pillow," you defend, batting your eyelashes at him for effect.

“I don’t mind it.” He waggles his brows playfully. “My chest is always available for you to use as your personal pillow.”

"And I always will." You promise him. There isn't any version of your future together where you want to wake up any other way.

******

“Honey?” Max opens the door to the apartment with a huge grin on his face. You had stayed home today to work on unpacking the last of the boxes and the boss had asked him to hand deliver this package to you personally. “It’s here!”

Nearly exhausted from unpacking, you're finally breaking down the last box when you hear him in the front hall. The Greenwich Village townhouse had needed a lot of work before you could move in, but now that you're here and you're unpacked it's wonderful to have it feeling like home. "I'll be right down!" You call from the top of the stairs before shoving the folded box under your arm and wiping your face on a bandana to head down from Alistair's room.

“Hey.” His eyes light up and he sets the box down in the entryway on the table that had moved from your apartment to his to the townhouse. Rushing halfway up the stairs. He takes the boxes from you and kisses you happily. “Amor.”

“What’s here, love?” You know what you hope has arrived - what he would have brought home from work for you - but you don’t want to assume.

“Your editor has sent a first print home for you to approve.” You had wanted your boss to handle the final edits of the book and Max had understood, although he was curious as to why. Eager to see your eyes light up when you hold your book, he takes your hand and drags you down the last few steps. “Your book is printed, amor. You have done it.”

This book has been a decade in the making, as you visited the story and the manuscript on and off for years. Inspiration had slipped away from you and been stubborn in coming back right up until the day Max walked back into your life. Now, when you nervously crack open the box of first edition copies of The Shadow Rose to see the glossy image of vines ensnaring a dewy purple rose, you could really almost cry. “It’s real,” you sigh in disbelief, cradling a copy in your arms like your first-born child.

Max beams proudly, watching you absorb the moment as a bystander. While he feels incredibly satisfied that you have accomplished a lifelong goal, this is your moment. Your accomplishment. “You did it. You are a published author, amor.”

“Wait one second.” You insist, pressing a kiss to his lips before disappearing with the book into your writing room - the former home office - to grab a pen. The dedication page of the book is very deliberate. “To Max: My inspiration, my support, my biggest cheerleader, and my best friend. My first love and my better half. Thank you for everything you have done, and everything you continue to do. I have a question for you.”

Underneath, in your own scrawling handwriting, five words follow with the stroke of a pen: “Amor, will you marry me?”

You had decided to ask him months ago. During the time you were painting the master bedroom. It had been like a moment from a movie when he smeared paint on your cheek and you returned the favor - and the beaming grin on his face had seemed to call to you. This man is without a doubt, the rest of your life. So now it’s time to ask.

Max tilts his head curiously when you come rushing back into the room. “Was the camera in the other room?” He asks, knowing that he wants to take a picture of you holding the book. Something he can print out and hang up in the small little nook that had been turned into a home office for the two of you. He rubs his hands together, knowing that you might cry a little as you look through the book and he wants to take you out to celebrate your success. Treat you to champagne like you deserve.

“The first copy is for you,” you tell him, vibrating nervously as you put it in his hands. “I just wanted to make sure the dedication was right before I gave it to you.”

“For me?” He frowns slightly, confused as to why you want to give him the first copy. You should want to keep it for yourself. “You shouldn’t, amor.” He still opens the book even as he tells you that so he can reach this dedication.

You’re vibrating with anxiety when he opens the cover of the book, ready to drop down on one knee the second he looks up at you from the page. The ring has been in your pocket all week, just waiting for the box of books to arrive at your door. Now that the moment is here, the signet ring with the ornate L carved into it feels even heavier with importance.

“Amor.” Max’s jaw drops and he looks up, only to follow your body as it drops down to your knee in front of him. Humbled, elated, overjoyed and even a little jealous - he had been ring shopping - he chokes out a surprised cry and the book slams shut as he drops down to his knees with you.

“I know it’s unconventional.” Of course you’re already sniffling back tears, but you pull the ring from your pocket with a beaming smile and offer it to him with such care. “But I love you so much, and I absolutely adore Alistair and I just—” your voice cracks a little and you can’t help a small laugh as the first tear breaks through. “Tú eres el amor de mi vida. Te casarías conmigo?” You’re the love of my life. Will you marry me?

“I–” Max chokes up again, near tears and he can’t even speak, nodding furiously out of fear that he would make you think that he was turning you down. “Sí.” He manages after a moment. “Siempre.”

Once he says yes, the amount of giggling, sniffling, and kissing shared between the two of you on the living room rug is endless. Not that you would ever want it to stop, but it seems like an opening of the floodgates.

“I love you. You are-“ he shakes his head and laughs. “I was trying to find out what kind of rings you liked.” He admitted. “I’ve been asking Kim.”

“She probably told you to find something big and flashy,” you huff a laugh between tears. As your closest friend, Kim has always joked that she expected the guy you ended up with to put no less than the Hope Diamond on your finger — while you would proudly sport the prize from a Cracker Jacks box as long as it came from the right man.

“She did.” Max chuckles. “Then she told me that you would actually love a sapphire or emerald engagement ring.”

“At least she told you the truth eventually.” The two of you cuddle into each other’s arms in the middle of the rug, furniture be damned. This moment is worth more than any sofa. “I don’t need a ring, amor. I only need you and Al.”

“I will proudly wear your ring, but I wish to get you one as well.” He admits. “It is not pride that makes me say that.” He assures you. “It is that I wish for you to carry a piece of my love for you as you go about your day.”

“Then I will wear whatever you choose with equal joy and love.” Nuzzling into his side, you press a kiss over his heart, then to his cheek, and then to his lips. “Alistair will be excited that I was finally able to ask.”

“He knew?” His brows shoot up and he huffs playfully. “I cannot believe he kept it from me.” He pouts, heart melting a little more from the fact that you conspired with his son.

"I had to ask him too," you grin, loving the soft expression of gratitude on Max's face. "Make sure he was okay with me loving him and his daddy forever."

“I’m sure that he has no problem with that.” He hums. “That boy adores you.”

"He had one condition." And it had been so sweet that you hadn't been able to refuse. "He wants to be your best man. He saw it in a movie and he's decided it's the most important thing for him to do for you."

“Yes.” Max lights up and nods immediately. “Absolutely. I would have nothing else than for him to be my best man. I will have to ask him formally. Get him some cufflinks.”

"We can do whatever you want." You hum softly and run your fingers over the signet sitting on his finger before looking back up at him. "All I care about is that I get to marry you."

“That is all that matters.” Max sighs happily. “You are Alistair, you’re my second chance and plan on making the most of it, amor.” He will, Max has found that there are things much more important than business success and fortune. With you and Alistair, he’s the wealthiest man on earth.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Maxwell Lord #Maxwell Lord x you #Maxwell Lord x reader #Maxwell Lord x female reader #Maxwell Lord x f!reader #Max Lord #Max Lorenzano #WW84 #Wonder Woman 1984 #The One That Got Away #friends to lovers

[supernaturalgirl20]

Gonna take part in Steph’s @toomanystoriessolittletime December writing challenge this year (🤘thanks Steph for putting it together 🥰)

Driving Home for Christmas - Marcus Pike x f!reader

Meet You There - Ezra x f!reader

Marry Me? - Marcus Pike x f!reader

Just Us - Marcus Pike x f!reader

Christmas market - Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warmth - Marcus Pike x f!reader

Lunch Date - Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Getaway- Dave York x f!reader

I Do - Marcus Pike x f!reader

This will bring me right up to new years and then I’m taking a long overdue hiatus. I promise I WILL have all my outstanding requests done and posted and my Frankie series will be finished. I will still be writing away (I have a mafia au series I’m working on for Oberyn (it’s super smutty 😈) and one or two other things, but I won’t be posting until at least February.

K, luv ya

Char xx 😘

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #javier peña x fem!reader #ezra x f!reader #maxwell lord x f!reader #dieter bravo xf!reader #pedro pascal x reader

[little-mrs-morales]

✨Sunday fiction sanctuary ✨

Fake Dating Drabble: Maxwell Lord

By @toomanystoriessolittletime

I do not read much of Maxwell, but this one stole my attention. It’s great written, all of the fake dating drabbles by @toomanystoriessolittletime are but there is something special and magical about this one. I just wish there was some sequel about them. 🥺

Watch over you

@flightlessangelwings

What I can say. I dream about running away from my family with grumpy Spaniard who would buy nice dress for me and threat me like the treasure and most valuable possession. That’s it. That’s the story and I love it very much. ♥️

Rainy days

@chaoticgeminate

Do I need to express my love for Mr. Ben again? This story is dream came true and I love it so much. I’m sucker for soulmate stories but with little bit of angst and jealousy? Perfect. That’s it. 😻

#pero tovar x reader #mr.ben x reader #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x female reader #Instagram

[gosmigenergy]

FEELS LIKE CHRISTMAS / Maxwell Lord (Lorenzano) x F! Reader

Summary: Celebrating Christmas for the first time with Maxwell.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mostly holiday fluff but turns explicit, holiday stress, mentions of family, mentions of Christmases alone, mentions of food, drinking, sixty-nine dude, oral - male receiving, oral - female receiving, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please), language, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 5.9k

Author’s Notes: I did plan on making some continuous fics about Bunny and the Boys but I work in retail, have just come back from Iceland (panini delayed holiday) and I’m going to Norway to visit my sister over Christmas. When I was considering what to do because I really wanted to post something, I found this unfinished Maxwell Lorenzano seasonal story hidden away on my computer.

Anyway, enjoy!

You normally loved the season, you basked in multicoloured lights, engulfed by the smell of roasting chestnuts, ears ringing with the constant playing of hymns and cheesy pop songs.

However this was the first year you and Maxwell chose to celebrate Christmas, with him came Alistair and with him came the pressure of presents. For Maxwell, they had to be perfect even though he wasn’t loaded with fake Black Gold money, he had to give his son what he never had, the one gift every kid was asking for.

The Ghostbusters Firehouse was proving to be one of the most desired toys of the season, it had been since Halloween.

Alistair had dressed as one for the school disco, you’d found a jumpsuit and dyed it brown, found an embroiderer who made the name tag and spent hours building a Proton Pack from cardboard boxes. All that effort was worth it, to see that kid running up the steps with several other Ghostbusters in similar attire, be it triple the price.

“I love you,” Maxwell said, beaming with a lopsided grin and tears framing his eyes.

In that moment, you felt a warmth that you’d never quite felt before, one that was reflective of a proud parent.

You didn’t feel that right now.

After hours of following the herd, going into what felt like every toy shop in DC and coming out empty handed each time, you broke.

“Alistair is back in two and a half hours, I just want to go home,” you cried. You were literally crying on a bench, cheeks hot with the freezing air.

Maxwell’s smile had disappeared long ago, replaced with a straight line.

“Fine.”

He huffed into the space next to you.

The bus ride home was quiet, Maxwell keeping his emotions to himself, his grip tight on the shopping bags. You’re grateful as the tension seemed to drop a little when you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Please talk to me.”

The pair of you had finally stripped yourselves of your winter accessories and coats, abandoning the gifts in your bedroom to stop prying eyes, yet neither of you had said a word.

“What’s there to talk about? I’m a shit father who couldn’t get a present for his son.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Maxwell Lorenzano,” you walk to him and place your hands on his cheeks so he couldn’t look away. “You are not a shit father.”

His deep brown eyes glossed, his chin crinkling as he tried to stop himself from having an absolute meltdown.

“I can’t even get my kid the one toy he wants, what am I going to do?

“What are we going to do? I’m not letting you blame yourself for this. This is companies exploiting Christmas, making people feel shit for things out of their control.”

“Don’t you love Christmas?”

“Yeah but not this. Not making a father feel guilty for not getting his son a toy, that’s not what this is about. I love everything around that, the delight of snow and the rush of having to get outside.  The warmth of a hot chocolate settling in your stomach, nights on the couch wrapped in copious amounts of blankets with It’s a Wonderful Life on the tv…”

Your heart twinges.

“The smile on the face of someone you love getting something unexpected, the voice on the other end of the phone as you wish them happy holidays.”

That’s what it always was for you. Your family far away, you unable to afford to get home.

“Mi amour.”

Maxwell brought a thumb to your cheek and caught the tear that had escaped.

You sigh, “It’s just been a long day.”

“I know.”

He pulled you close, resting his slopping nose on top of your head, breathing you in. You hold each other for a fragile moment.

“I need to go and have a think, ok?”

He kissed your forehead.

You nod before looking around your shrinking space, somehow the apartment the three of you shared was getting smaller.

“I’ll get this place in order before Alistair arrives and start on dinner.”

“Thank you, baby.”

He walked away almost defeated.

“Hey, you better not go in there and make some elaborate plan to make everyone’s deepest desires come true.”

“That was one time.”

You giggle.

A while later, the knock at the door interrupts your flow but you couldn’t stay mad for long when that wide smile greets you.

“Max, Alistair’s here!”

You’re almost knocked back as he throws himself at your legs and in for a hug, you squeeze his head to save yourself from falling.

“How’ve you been?”

“Good.”

“How was your mom?”

You didn’t really care, you were just making pleasantries to try and pretend you didn’t find the woman absolutely insufferable. When he lets go and gives you a shrug, you take the hint.

Ok, you mouthed.

“Alistair,” Maxwell appeared, his smile matching his son’s as he fell to his knees to embrace him enthusiastically. “I’m so happy you’re home.”

“Me too, mom said she wants to talk to you, she’s downstairs.”

“Alright, why don’t you help with dinner?”

“Ok!”

Alistair ran to the kitchen.

You guessed what this might be, the exchange of presents from ‘Santa’ as discussed between them. Alistair was going to be away from his mother for the holidays, not that either of them seemed to mind. You and Maxwell would have him until New Year so you had plenty planned.

“I’m sure you can keep him distracted for a while.”

“Of course,” you winked.

---

“Why is your tree so small?”

Alistair cocked his head to the artificial tree placed on a side table next to the television.

“Oh, I got that tree when I first moved to DC. I couldn’t afford much but I was desperate for some sort of Christmas decoration and there it was, last on the shelf at Goodwill.”

“Were you on your own that Christmas?”

“Yeah, my family were all back home.”

“Have you ever been back?”

“No, I’ve never had the chance. Though I’ve had loads of good Christmases here with friends and neighbours, Mrs Zonana gave me the biggest chocolate log you’ve ever seen.”

“Really?! Do you think she’ll make one for the party?”

“I’m sure she will.”

“Have you ever wanted a big tree? Mom had one that almost reached the ceiling.”

You shrug, “I’ve never thought about it, it’s just been me but, yeah, I guess something a little bigger would be nice.”

“And colourful lights for the window?”

The more he inquired, the more excitable he became and your smile grows.

“Colourful lights would be good too.”

“How’s everything going in here?”

Maxwell wrapped his hands around your waist, the chill prominent from his trip outside. He rested his chin on your shoulder and looked down at the carnage of flour, butter and cheese, Alistair’s hands coated in the ingredients.

“It’s gonna be later than expected.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“It’ll be worth the wait.”

---

“Can I just sleep here tonight?”

Alistair’s eyes were heavy, belly full from dinner and his body warm from a combination of flannel pyjamas and a fleece blanket.

“No, we all need to go to bed.”

Maxwell was the only one moving, he’d cleaned up and offered to make special hot chocolates, two of which would feature alcohol. He handed his son a mug brimming with whipped cream and marshmallows.

“But it’s comfy here,” he moaned.

“I can’t disagree with him.”

You were stretched on the couch, waiting for Maxwell to return to fill the space he left behind. He was your headrest, allowed you to snuggle within the crook of his arm and listen to his heart beat slowly. Once he was back, you were asleep for sure.

“Everyone is going to bed,” he reiterated.

He remembered the last time the pair of you fell asleep on the couch, his cricked neck played up for almost a week.

“Boooo.”

“Careful you two or Santa won’t bring you presents.”

Alistair laughed.

“Oh dad, Santa isn’t real.”

“What makes you say that?”

You try to deflect, Maxwell was hoping for another year of illusion at least.

“Jake told me.”

Curse you, Jake.

“Well, it’s not that he’s not real, it’s more that you’re old enough to allow Santa to bring joy to another kid. He’ll make sure this year’s extra special, I’m sure of it.”

His expression scrunched, “That sounds rubbish.”

“Oh no,” Maxwell shook his head, “it’s very true.”

Alistair’s eyes flitted between both of you and you knew the game, keep a straight face just long enough for him to believe you.

“That’s cool.”

He continued to watch the Christmas special on the tv. Maxwell handed you your hot chocolate and slipped into his spot. He let you settle back before leaning down and kissing the top of your head.

His words were soft, “Thank you, baby.”

You had gone to check on Alistair one last time before heading to bed.

“He’s out of it.”

Maxwell was already cosy under the duvet, glasses on as he read a battered copy of A Christmas Carol. Closing the door gently, you tiptoed across the room and slide into the other side, resting your fuzzy head on the pillow.

“How are you not dizzy reading after that drink?”

“Because I didn’t put an extra shot in mine.”

“Max!”

“What? You deserved it.”

You huff, you can’t stay mad at his stupid face, his wide toothy smile looking down on you.

“How did it go… with the present swap?”

He put his book down, “Fine.”

Maxwell was a man of little words when it came to his ex wife.

“You know you told Alistair that white lie about Santa Claus? Well, lucky for us, she managed to get that firehouse.”

“Of course,” you scoff.

The moment Maxwell lost his ‘wealth’, his then wife dropped him for someone who could pay the lifestyle she was after.

“Paid triple the amount for it.”

You let out a singular laugh.

“At least Alistair will be happy.”

“Do you think he’ll like what we got him?”

“Why do you ask?”

Maxwell’s brows furrowed, maybe he did make a mistake putting another measure of Irish cream in your hot chocolate.

“He knows we’re not necessarily as well off as his mom but I don’t want him thinking that we don’t love him as much because we can’t give him that.”

“Alistair knows we love him, maybe even more than his mother does.”

“We got him underwear,” you throw your arms up as you spoke.

“He needs new ones.”

“I know he does but we’re giving them as a present.”

“I was very happy when I got underwear one year.”

“You’re lucky to have a kid like him.”

“I’m lucky to have you too,” he said, cuddling closer. “Not every girlfriend would go from toy store to toy store trying to get a present for a kid that isn’t theirs.”

“You both mean the world to me.”

“And you’re everything to us.”

He cupped your cheek, feeling the heat seer through his palm before his lips met yours.

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

You can’t remember falling asleep, only Maxwell gently shaking you awake. In your groggy state, you could sense it was still dark out yet you rolled over to see him fully dressed.

“Alistair and I are heading out,” he whispered. “He forgot to get a present for his friend.”

“I’ll get dressed.”

“No, don’t get up. Have some time to yourself, ok baby? We might be a while.”

“Ok,” you immediately roll back over.

No offence to Maxwell but it was way too early and you were far too hungover to kick up a fuss, he told you to stay and you wouldn’t put up a fight about it.

The phone started to ring the moment you stepped out of the shower.

After a lie-in, you visited Mrs Zonana ahead of her Christmas party, hosted every year in the apartment complex’s courtyard. You offered to help in some way and after much persuasion, she had you and another neighbour putting up the gazebo and decorations. Then you got back and knocked up some cookies for the evening before getting ready.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.”

“How’s your day going, Max?”

He groaned, “It’s gone fine but we’re running late, we’re waiting for the next bus. Do you mind if we meet you at Mrs Zonana’s?”

“Not at all, can’t promise there’ll be any food left.”

“It’s Mrs Zonana, she’ll save us a plate.”

You hum sarcastically.

“Don’t deny it, she loves me.”

You roll your eyes, “Am I being replaced?”

“Of course not,” the phone crackled, “I’ve got to go, love you.”

He hung up before you got the chance to reply.

When you finally made it downstairs, the outside was already buzzing. You made your way through the throng of your neighbours, stating you’d catch up later before reaching Mrs Zonana.

“Oh, I’ll make the boys their plates and keep them warm in the oven.”

“You don’t have to, they’re the ones running late.”

She battered you with a tea towel, which you were unable to decipher whether it was meant to be playful or if she really did want it to hurt.

“Sorry we’re late!”

Everyone practically cheered at Maxwell and Alistair’s arrival. You swiftly apologise to Nico to ensure you got to them first.

“Finally! Where have you two been?”

You jokingly put your hand on your hip and pout, Alistair giggling at your phoney expression because you, of all people, were never mad.

“Sorry, baby.”

“It’s not me you have to apologise to,” you smile wickedly as you sense Mrs Zonana’s presence.

“Alistair, come get yours and your father’s food.”

He runs away immediately.

“Did everything go ok?”

Maxwell hummed.

“You look exhausted.”

“I know but it’s all with a good intention.”

You rubbed your thumb along his cheek, warm in a rush to make it back, the faintest sensation of whiskers from lack of shaving.

“How have I not been greeted by my man yet?”

“Hola, Mrs Zonana.”

Maxwell slipped seamlessly into Spanish around her and you always prayed that they were saying kind words when your name popped up. You drew your attention to Alistair for a while and listened to him talk about his day with his father.

Occasionally, yours and Maxwell’s eyes would catch across the courtyard and you’d exchange the softest of smiles throughout the rest of the evening.

“I’m tired.”

Alistair was valiant in staying up, most of the other kids had gone to bed. He flopped onto the edge of the garden box with you and Maxwell, who had escaped another lecture on ancient artefacts from Mr Fennec.

“We should probably get you boys to bed, huh? It’s been a long day.”

They both groan, playfully collapsing their heads to your shoulders.

“Come on,” you ruffle Alistair’s hair.

After saying your goodbyes, the three of you strolled up to the apartment.

“I have never seen a boy this excited to go to bed,” you laugh.

Alistair had run ahead the moment you reached the walkway. Maxwell brought you closer, locked an arm around your waist and breathed you in.

“Don’t think I can blame him.”

The holidays were always tiring even when you were on your lonesome, you were always invited somewhere with someone and keeping up appearances was the norm. You spent years coming back, crashing onto the mattress before getting up to do the whole thing all over again. It was nice that the building party was the only real big deal this year.

Maxwell chose to do his office party by himself because why would you want to be surrounded by drunk, obnoxious salesmen for the evening? You were better off with Alistair baking cookies, watching a film and secretly helping him wrap presents for his father. Then Alistair’s mom took him to the school party and to meet Santa, attending the Christmas light switch on was the one event you happily obliged.

“Why are you taking so long?”

“Because we’re old,” Maxwell shouted as he and you approached.

“Did you hang mistletoe on the door?”

Your inquiry was met with a shrug.

“You do realise that I don’t need a Christmas tradition for an excuse to kiss you?”

“Ew,” Alistair fake barfed.

Maxwell rummaged to find the key in his pocket, refusing to let go of you. Alistair snatched it out of his hand as soon as it reemerged. Maxwell’s hand came to your jaw and gently, he eased you to face him. He stared at you with his brown puppy dog eyes, bringing his other hand to meet your cheek.

“Shouldn’t we be under the mistletoe?”

His face was illuminated by an orange glow as Alistair made his way inside.

“Too much effort,” he smiled before clashing your lips together.

It could be because he’s tired or the alcohol or the fact he was trying to make the kiss more of a pantomime for his son to endure but Maxwell was messy. He practically pinned your face to his with both hands, slipping his tongue passed your lips sloppily, forcing your body to turn backwards to the door.

You gasped for air when he finished.

“I like the enthusiasm.”

You take a couple of steps back to see his expression soften, he knew what he’d done, chose not to say anything.

Then you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

Wait, that wasn’t there when I left.

And suddenly the room seemed to fill with pinpricks of every colour.

“Merry Christmas!”

Alistair leapt from behind you and slowly, inch by inch, you took everything in. You didn’t utter a word, couldn’t even scream as your chest began to heave.

The tiny desk tree had been replaced with one triple the size, overloaded with baubles. Every wall was lined with string lights, the kitchen sill decorated with ornaments and tinsel and the focal point, three stockings hanging from the breakfast bar, embroidered with golden letters.

“Do you like it?”

You fall to your knees and squeeze Alistair hard. You put every ounce you had in you to hug that boy and kissed his head multiple times.

“I love it, Alistair, I love it so much,” your voice cracked.

“You’re crying.”

“They’re happy tears, I promise,” the words were catching in your throat.

“Let me take your coat, baby, Alistair’s got more to show you.”

“There’s more?”

Alistair was beaming up at you, nodding passionately.

Maxwell helped you pull yourself out of your coat, your body shaking as it failed to follow basic instruction. He trailed a hand down your spine as you attempted to get it together, wiping the tears that were already falling.

Taking your hand, Alistair showed you what else they’d done. The old tree had now taken pride of place at the end of the corridor between your rooms. There was more lights along the ceiling and the pictures on the walls had changed to winter scenes of snowfall, ice skating and carollers.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this just for me,” you smile, more tears forming.

“Well, I said about it to dad and he said he overheard us talking yesterday and felt like we should do something,” Alistair said. “Also I didn’t have any money and I couldn’t get up high so I needed some help.”

You couldn’t help hugging him again.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better surprise.”

“Really?”

“Oh, I’m going to remember this one forever.”

Alistair excitedly returned to Maxwell to pass on the good news. Of course you were going to love it, Maxwell knew you would. Luck aligned for him, there was still some money left in the budget you two had built, Mrs Zonana gave a hefty contribution and Suzanne from the other block let him and Alistair hide whilst they also played look out.

Plenty of people loved you more than you realised.

He automatically hugged you when you came back, “You good?”

“There aren’t any more surprises are there, I don’t think I can cope.”

“Not from me.”

You laugh into his chest, “Thank god.”

He ran a hand through your hair, squeezing you a little tighter before reluctantly letting you go.

“Can I have another one of those hot chocolates?”

“Sure.”

“And me,” Alistair chimed in, “please.”

The three of you rested on the couch, Alistair retelling the day and how each decoration came to be. It felt like your heart could burst, he was so overjoyed. Maxwell’s arm was draped firmly over your shoulder, chest rising and falling slowly as sleep tried to take him.

You knew you spent too long in the bathroom, you worried Maxwell may have fallen asleep before he even got chance to see your gift. It was a risk you were taking but you hoped it would pay off.

“Maxwell. Are you asleep?”

“Just resting my eyes,” his head lulled against the headboard.

“Oh because I was hoping I could give you one of your presents early.”

He opened one eye, “Really?”

You hum, fingertips playing with the tie on your fluffy dressing gown.

“Well, you’ve been such a good boy these past couple of days,” you pull open the knot, “and I think you deserve it.”

You shrug your shoulders and let the fabric fall to the floor with a light thud. Maxwell’s head snapped up, both eyes wide with the delight of seeing you dressed in nothing more than a see-through babydoll in bright red, nothing left to the imagination. Your bush freshly trimmed and nipples pert.

His smile brought the dimples to his cheeks. He leaned forward, gesturing with both hands.

“Come here.”

You saunter to the edge of the bed and he moves to you fit perfectly between his legs. His hands run up the backs of your thighs, fingers burying into your ass as he pressed his forehead to your stomach, the refreshing scent of your favourite perfume catching in his nostrils. He moved his hands to your hips before looking up at you drunkenly.

“How long have you been hiding this from me?”

You hum, biting your lip sheepishly.

Whilst in the mall, deflated from toy shopping, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, leaving Maxwell amongst the other male shoppers in the seating area. As you walked, your eyes caught something in the window of a shop.

You only treated yourself to lingerie when it was a special occasion and after the day you two were having, it called for it.

Dress up wasn’t something you and Maxwell chose to do so, even though the enthusiastic sales assistant tried, you gravitated towards the little red number you wore tonight.

“I shouldn’t have got you tipsy last night, should I?”

You cup his face in your palms.

“It didn’t help.”

Brushing aside his stray hairs, you lean down and kiss him deeply, his back straightening to attention. You both part, catching your breaths.

“So, are you one of Santa’s naughty little elves or…”

Maybe you should have got the costume. You look at him, your eyelids low as the corner of your lips curled.

“I’d much rather be Mrs Claus.”

The smile grew back on his face.

“Now it’s time for you to go back to bed.”

Maxwell happily obliged. He made sure to look at the view in detail one more time before slipping his hands off you. Pushing back on the mattress, he rested on the pillow, hands tucked behind his head.

“Are you coming to tuck me in?”

You climb on the bed and crawl over his body, your index finger trailing along his underwear where his hardening cock was becoming visible.

“Not until…”

Your faces meet and he waits in anticipation for your next line, it doesn’t come easily. You think of all the seasonal puns but they’re all ridiculous - candy cane, north or south pole, Christmas has cum early?

He breaks first, a singular laugh ruining any chance of you being a seductive Mrs Claus.

“Hard to keep up the charade?”

“Yeah,” your expression scrunches. “I don’t think ‘not getting rid of your south pole’ does what I want it to do.”

He snorts at the terminology.

“Want me to take the rein?”

You thought he was going to make some sort of sleigh ride joke but nothing came after. He calmly brushed the hair from your face, breathing and heartbeat steady, his expression soft. Maxwell didn’t usually take control but this time, he seemed so sure.

“Ok.”

Then something changed, his pupils blew a dark black.

“Turn around.”

You listened, swapping your legs over each side. His hands travel up your legs before they claw your ass apart and you instinctively arch your back to offer him a better view. His cock twitched beneath the cotton fabric.

“Wet as always.”

“Always for you.”

He hummed, glad you were facing the other way round because he could feel the temperature rise in his cheeks.

You kiss the skin above the waistband of his underwear then lick in one motion, sending a shiver along Maxwell’s spine. He returns the favour, kissing the creases that joined your legs to your butt before spreading his tongue over your folds.

You shudder, leaning back further to try and catch the tip of his nose.

He knew exactly what you were doing, “Behave.”

You grumble, pouting your lips as you glance over your shoulder. You couldn’t see much past the sight of your ass but you caught each other’s eye.

Your fingers play with the elastic before you gradually peel his underwear off, inspecting his throbbing bright tip, precum glistening. To behave would be to not take the top in your mouth and spread your tongue over but you were going to get him back for his little remark, that and you were hungry for him. Dampening your lips, you took Maxwell in your mouth, rewarded with his lengthily moan.

“Oh fuck,” he says as you take him further, “you are not behaving.”

He felt your soft laugh against him, the vibrations pleasing enough to have him creeping closer to the edge.

There was only one way to play this game.

Swallowing hard, he spreads you wider before teasing you along your outer lips, soothing with his tongue after a gentle nip. You breath with a sigh and just as he gets you into a false sense of security, he buries himself into your weeping cunt.

You pull up, Maxwell’s cock falling with a slap to his navel as you gasp and whimper.

“Put me back in your mouth, baby, I don’t want you waking up Alistair.”

You massage his balls lightly and the air hisses through his teeth, he was going to blow if you weren’t careful.

“And what about you?”

Maxwell was the most vocal lover you’d encountered. He didn’t respond, returning to your cunt with more finesse, his tongue working against your blooming clit.

You let out a choked whine before wrapping your lips around his tip and sweeping around with your tongue. You felt his groan run through every nerve ending, your walls clamping round him. Slowly you took his length into your throat and back up again, picking up the pace according to his movements.

You couldn’t tell how long the pair of you were locked like this, in this pure unadulterated bliss.

He only came up for air to sing your praises and for his final admittance, “I’m so close, baby.”

You already knew that.

His hips had bucked a few times to get his cock further into that little throat of yours, the sound of you gagging sweeter than any music. His body was tensing, his grip on your hips making them numb, he was forcing himself not to cum out of the want of making you cum first.

“This is your treat, Maxwell,” you say after releasing his cock with a pop. “How do you want me?”

“I want to watch you bounce on my dick until we both cum.”

You smile coyly, turning yourself to face him, “Now that’s some Christmas magic I can do.”

Straddling his hips, you kiss him squarely on the lips and force him to lay with his back firmly on the mattress. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you taste the tang of your arousal before pulling back, teeth nipping his bottom lip.

You lift yourself up, taking his cock in your hand as you line it up with your entrance. Eyes focusing on him, you slowly sink down, Maxwell releasing a choked gasp when just his tip slides between your folds.

His eyes flick up and down your frame as his palms trail your thighs, encouraging you to take his length.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you lower yourself, a soft hum as he fills you. His cock twitches, his head falling back, eyelashes fluttering shut as you held steady.

“Fuck,” he sighs.

You sit for a minute, inner walls pulsing as your aching pussy readjusts to the stretch of his girth. All this time together and you still hadn’t gotten used to how heavy his cock was. He feels fingertips grazing the skin of his chest and opens his eyes. You’re gazing down at him, eyelids low but he could still catch the glint in your eye.

“I thought you wanted to watch.”

Oh, he did but he fucking adored how you felt around him, he could stay like this all night if you allowed him. But you started to raise your hips, your other hand lifting the fabric to your waist so he could see the drag of your folds.

He groaned, not too loud yet not too soft, just enough for it to hit your ears.

“Like that?”

You tease as you drop back down, knocking the air out of his lungs. He can’t answer, can barely move his head because his mind is solely on your pussy around his cock. You gradually begin to pick up the pace when your legs stop protesting, the slap of your skin against his getting stronger, his fingers digging further into the flesh of you.

A squeaking moan escapes you every time you bounce from him, lips sealed together as you try to keep the volume down. You can still hear Maxwell, his hushed praises blending into his second language, his throat bulging as he tries to contain his grunts and groans.

Your walls were tightening, your hips stuttering when the tip of his cock hit somewhere new as you rolled your pelvis forward. His lips crashed into yours, swallowing the honeyed groan that came deep from your chest. He held you in place, your legs shaking with anticipation.

You could feel your arousal spilling between your thighs, preparing you for the final chase, the spark igniting low in your belly.

Maxwell coiled his arms around your waist, removing his lips from yours as he nudged his nose against your cheek. You catch your breath, fingers drawing circles over his shoulder blades before you finally looked in his big brown eyes. Always soft and sincere even though you were about to ruin him, he would happily take it.

You kiss his lips, palms moving to settle on either side of his neck. Lifting your ass a little, you let him shuffle his legs closer to boost you up before you rolled your hips.

A moan escapes you as your clit grazes the hairs above his cock. He sighs, lips parting as he focuses on your movements, your walls twitching around his aching cock. His broad palms fall from your waist and over the curve of your ass, fingers sinking into the muscle as he guides you up his length.

“That’s it,” he says breathily.

And when you get going again, you feel the tingle as it dances along your skin, your belly warming. Maxwell’s hands following as you bounce, legs locking beneath your weight.

Both of your hot and heavy breaths trickle down your flushed chest, his soft grunts seeping into your ears. Your hands trail over his outline, the shiver shooting up his spine as your fingertips tease.

His head fell forward and you pulled him close to your body, nestling his face in the crook of your neck. Keeping on hand on his back, you draw the other to his hair, the colour no longer a fake blonde. Your fingers delve into his thick roots and tug gently, the noise he makes having you close your eyes, riding his cock as fast as your ceasing legs would allow.

His hands grip tighter, his tongue so loose he can barely get the words out to warn you as his balls recede and he coats your walls. He manages to hold you down as you hiss through your teeth, body trembling as your own orgasm surges through your body.

“Shit, Max,” you choke.

Your cunt pulsates, milking him for every last drop before your muscles relax. He groans your name passionately, his body going limp, back hitting the mattress with a loud exhale.

You keep your eyes closed, your hand reaching for his chest as it rose, filling the lungs with much needed oxygen. Your legs shudder with an aftershock, his hand coming to your wrist. You blink, the room coming into focus and you catch his lopsided grin as he gazed up at you in a blissed out state.

“Best present a guy could ask for,” he chuckles.

You giggle, brushing the hair from your face with your free hand. Lifting your hips, you slide off his cock, thick white cum dribbling from your folds before you crawled up the bed to settle next to him.

He snakes an arm under your neck, across your shoulders to draw you closer to his chest. You snuggle to his frame, draping a leg in between his, hand fixed to his chest as his heartbeat slowed.

Glancing up, his eyes are already closed. You knew he was exhausted, all the rushing around, trying to give everyone the best Christmas, making up for all the ones he’d missed. All you wanted to do was tell him he didn’t have to but he wouldn’t listen.

Maxwell wouldn’t have it any other way.

When he came to in the morning, your side of the bed was empty. He could hear life outside of the door, the faint strip of sunlight breaking through the curtains. Stretching, he tried to find his t-shirt before guessing you borrowed it when Alistair came to wake someone.

In the now cramped living room, he saw you and Alistair on the couch, huddled under a blanket with mugs in your hands. The pair of you had soft smiles and were whispering to one another, you attempting to understand what was happening on the kids show you were watching. A few more presents had made an appearance under the tree, sugar cookies filling a plate on the coffee table.

“Morning,” his voice sounded groggy, vocal cords not quite ready to talk.

“Morning dad!”

“Morning, coffee’s fresh if you want some.”

Your smile grows at his arrival before he comes down and kisses you. He continues to watch you both while he wanders round the kitchen, semi listening to what was happening on the tv. Returning with a mug of coffee, Maxwell leans over and grabs a handful of cookies, met with a little groan from Alistair who had to tilt sideways to see the screen.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispers before sitting down.

You wriggle to make room as he slumps into his usual spot. After he’s got comfy, you nestle back against him and he drapes an arm over your shoulder. His lips come to the crown of your head.

“You ok?”

“Perfect,” he strokes your cheek as you drop your head back. “Feels like Christmas.”

#ww84 #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lorenzano #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord ww84 #pedro pascal fanfiction #smut #one shot #it's christmas

[cinebration]

Opening Requests!

Hi, everyone! I am opening requests again! Please read the rules carefully before submitting your request(s).

Rules

Send to my ask box! Please keep in mind that these requests are meant to be one-shot drabbles.

No smut. No pregnancy fics or A/B/O fics. No crossover fics. No actor x reader. All reader characters must be 18 or older. Other AUs acceptable.

I’m asking this time that requests do not ask me to continue fics I have written, regardless of whether they are multi-chapter or one-shots.

Identify the gender of the reader if you want something other than female.

Because I try to remain as true to character as possible, I reserve the right to reject or tweak requests to keep the characters in character.

Below are character lists divided by actors.

Oscar Isaac

The Moon Knight Boys, Poe Dameron

Pedro Pascal

Javi Gutierrez, Din Djarin, Ezra, Maxwell Lord

Diego Luna

Cassian Andor

Christian Bale

Gorr the God Butcher, Alfred Borden, John Preston, Patrick Bateman, Russell Baze

Henry Cavill

Napoleon Solo, August Walker, Captain Syverson, Geralt of Rivia, Sherlock Holmes, Walter Marshall

Tom Hardy

Eames, Eddie Brock, Alfie Solomons, James Keziah Delaney, Bob (The Drop), Forrest Bondurant, Tuck, Tommy Conlon

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes, Charles Blackwood

Chris Evans

Ransom Drysdale, Jake Jensen, Colin Shea

Ewan McGregor

Roman Sionis, Dan Torrance, Obi-Wan Kenobi

I’m also open to other characters and fandoms if you want me to try my hand at something!

#requests #Oscar Isaac x Reader #Pedro Pascal x Reader #Diego Luna x Reader #Christian Bale x Reader #Henry Cavill x Reader #Tom Hardy x Reader #Sebastian Stan x Reader #Chris Evans x Reader #Ewan McGregor x Reader #Oscar Isaac imagine #Pedro Pascal imagine #Diego Luna imagine #Christian Bale imagine #Henry Cavill imagine #Tom Hardy imagine #Sebastian Stan imagine #Chris Evans imagine #Ewan McGregor imagine