#max lord x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prolix-yuy · 1 year

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(Moodboard by @missredherring)

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Plus Sized F!Reader

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

Word Count: 4.6k

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

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

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

It was your fucking thighs that ruined it all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wouldn’t have ripped them if you were smaller.

Why do you need to take up so much space?

Did you think all this would change what you are?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He starts talking.

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

A moment of silence, a silent hope.

“This is your day…”

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

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

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

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

“You’re a woman. In the men’s room.”

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

“It’s been a rough morning.”

Another pause.

“Are you in trouble?”

You peal out a weak laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sheer black.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He waits in agony.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A softer pause than before.

“Would you like me to leave?”

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

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

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

“Max Lorenzano…”

“Max Lord.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Max clears his throat, his own eyes glassy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

END

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

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

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rosepascal · 10 months

Note

first of all babe congrats on 1k followers 💕

🍀 who do you think would have a thing for big girls?? 🍀

Thank you!!

🍀- (18+ Only) Kink talk hehehe. Send me a kink + a Pedro Character and i’ll write a small blurb about their opinions on said kink or them in action 😉

join my 1K Celebration

Joel Miller 100% has a thing for big girls and you cannot convince me otherwise. He's particular in what he likes and he likes thicker women for sure. He's really bad at expressing his emotions but trust me, he wants it bad.

Din Djarin too. He loves curves. Hes touched starved and so when he's looking for a partner he needs all the love he can get. He's strong and a total simp so he'll be tripping over his words trying to talk to you.

Oberyn Martell def loves all body types but I get the vibe he especially enjoys big girls. He's a sexy man with an insatiable sexual appetite and he'd treat you like a goddess. There's more to love and Oberyn has a lot of love to give.

Agent Whiskey does not discriminate in body types. He loves all kinds of women and that includes big girls. He's a total flirt so he'll turn on the southern charm and charm his why right into your arms (and bed)

Max Lord is also into big girls. I'm not great at explaining this but Max gives me those vibes. He's a businessman so he's smart but he's put up with a lot of bullshit in his life so he's pretty sure of what he wants. In life and in a woman.

Max Phillips too. He's a cocky little shit and kind of an asshole but he totally has a thing for bigger woman. They taste sweeter in his opinion. He makes crude jokes and very flirty comments but not in a demeaning way. He's just sales man.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #agent whiskey #jack daniels #agent whiskey x reader #max lord #max lord x reader #max phillips #max phillips x reader #1k celebration

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idolatrybarbie · 3 months

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main masterlist | pmamc masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was looking for you,” Max admits.

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

“I thought it was brilliant.”

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

“Of course,” Max returns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyone has a tell,” Maxwell says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where can I find you?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Four hundred dollars,” the woman says immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Really, it’s an easy choice to make.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why’s that?”

“You’re too beautiful.”

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

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

“Absolutely, yes,” Maxwell nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, baby.”

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

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

“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know so.”

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

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

“Hand me that bottle, baby.”

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

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

“You ready, honey?” you ask him.

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

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

“Yes, it’s—oh god.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always ready,” Maxwell answers.

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

“How does that feel?”

“Fantastic,” Maxwell sighs.

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

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

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

“Fuck,” Max moans. “Please.”

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

“Anything,” he agrees.

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

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

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

“Please,” he begs you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Partners,” Maxwell agrees.

And that’s that.

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

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xmissrogersx · 26 days

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Hi everyone!

My name is Priscila, and i’m new in tumblr! I just wanna thank you for the love u give to my stories! You are amazing girls!🩷

I have so many ideas to write (and of course i know about who u want) so please let me know in the comments what you want to read!

A few things about me:

I’m Argentina, 23 years old, i love the period drama, my favourite movie is the princess diaries and i study journalism.

God bless lana del rey, pizza and pedro pascal.

Follow me in TikTok, so you can know me a little bit more

www.tiktok.com/@priiscontardi

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xdaddysprincessxx · 4 months

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The Year Max Lord’s Wish Came True

Moodboard by me!

Max Lord x teacher f reader

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

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

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

Words: 3714

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1 hour later. . .

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

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

“84B”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t help but giggle at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say it. Say my name little girl.”

“D-daddy.”

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

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

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

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

Whack! Whack! Whack!

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

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

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

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

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

“T-th-t -“ you stutter

Whack!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh mierda hermosa, me hiciste un desastre,”

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

“Come here I need to be inside you baby”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe we can do this again?”

“I’d love that hermosa.”

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

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

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

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mandoalorian · 11 months

Note

Maxwell revealing his childhood to trauma to reader for the first time? I just...I just want Maxwell to feel safe and loved (preferably by me) 😭💖

mastermind

Max Lord x Reader

a/n: based on the taylor swift song; “no one wanted to play with me as a little kid, so i’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since, to make them love me and make it seem effortless… this is the first time i’ve felt the need to confess”.

word count: 2,5k

warnings: descriptions of poverty, abuse, violence, angst

masterlist

[please reblog if you enjoy!]

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

It was no secret that both you and Maxwell hated these kinds of dinners. But they were practically essential when it came to Maxwell’s profession; a way of schmoozing and winning over potential investors. With the oil market at an all time low, this was important now more than ever.

On tonight’s menu: grilled steak and garlic potatoes, with a sloppy side of the unpalatable CEO in the business— Simon Stagg.

He thought himself to be better than everyone else in the industry, and he had a level of arrogance that seemed to shock you every single time you had the displeasure of meeting him.

But at least the food that you were cooking smelled great, and when you felt Maxwell wrap his arms around your waist, you practically melted into the familiar warmth. Your boyfriend pressed a soft kiss into the nape of your neck and swayed his hips against yours, as if to initiate a slow dance. There was no music, but it was a habit that you and Maxwell often enjoyed.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said softly, and the smell of his rich, honeyed cologne was enough to make your knees weak. “I’m confident I can get the investment tonight, but you don’t need to have any part in this ‘dinner’ if you don’t want to.”

You knew your boyfriend was just trying to protect you from Stagg’s rude nature, yet you couldn’t help but scoff and turn around, letting yourself fall into his comforting embrace. “I won’t let you do this alone,” you promised. “We do this together.”

You could feel Maxwell’s lips curl into a smile at your sentiment, as his face lingered in your hair for an extended period of time. He pressed another kiss atop your head before finally pulling away and offering you a smile. His brown eyes were glazed as he looked you up and down.

“You look breath-taking.”

His compliments never got old, and you let out a small giggle before twirling around in your glittering gold dress.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” You laughed cheekily, straightening his tie. “I called Raquel she told me Alistair is down for the night.”

“That’s good.” Maxwell hummed. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. You groaned and closed your eyes, knowing it would be your esteemed guest of the evening.

“He’s early,” you muttered. “Can we tell him to leave and come back later?”

Maxwell chuckled and playfully pinched your cheek. “I’ll go invite him in, you pour out the wine. I anticipate it’ll be a long night.”

‘A long night’ was a complete understatement. Stagg stayed over for hours, devouring the three course meal and even dipping into Maxwell’s whiskey, but not before making a comment about how ‘cheap’ it was.

It was exhausting, having to spend time with the CEO of Stagg Industries. You could practically feel the dark circles imbed under your eyes, but as always, your husband had things under control. Maxwell treated every insult with poise and he maintained his integrity for the entire evening. You didn’t know how he had the mental strength and capacity for it all, but none-the-less, you admired him greatly for it.

“Now, Maxwell, before I give you the investment, I do have one last question.” Simon smirked, adjusting himself in his chair.

“Hit me.” Maxwell replied, ready for just about anything Simon was going to throw at him.

Only, he certainly wasn’t ready for this.

“I always thought it was odd how you just… came out of nowhere,” Simon said pointedly, taking a swing of whiskey. He gulped it down with a grunt and ran his fingers through his coiffed white hair. “You just appeared on the radar, which is unusual in this industry. You didn’t hail from fortune, and Black Gold isn’t a family business… it’s always intrigued me. I’ve always wondered, where does Max Lord come from?”

Maxwell swallowed thickly and closed his eyes. It was like he could feel time moving. “What exactly are you getting at?”

“I went to city hall,” Stagg said, stiff and expressionless. His voice was monotone and indistinguishable.Those five words initiated a wave of anxiety in Maxwell, who’s grip tightened around his wine glass so hard, his knuckles turned white. “There’s no ‘Max Lord’ on record. He doesn’t exist.”

Maxwell stayed silent, his gaze flicking down to the table. The silence was deadly. You nudged your boyfriend, offering him a confused glance.

“What’s he talking about Max?” you quietly quizzed your boyfriend. “Why aren’t you… why are there no records…?” you tried to piece together whatever implication Simon was getting at but you just couldn’t figure it out.

“Oh, you she doesn’t know?” Simon questioned, holding back a laugh. Maxwell looked at him almost pleadingly. He said a silent prayer to whatever God may be out there. If Simon knew the truth, he wouldn’t expose it right now at the dinner table, in front of you.

“I don’t know what?” you asked again in a panicked rush.

“I was going to tell you,” Maxwell said in a hushed tone, his brown eyes wide and apologetic. But Simon only laughed harder. “Please don’t be mad.”

“Max I just don’t understand what he’s talking about, I—“ you felt your cheeks grow hot and Maxwell took your hands, squeezing them with assurity.

“I love you so much,” Maxwell promised, his dark eyes not leaving you once. “But I’m not who you think I am.”

“Max…” you trailed off.

Realising that it was now or never, Maxwell knew he had to explain everything to you. He had to confront his truth; the same truth he’d pushed away to the back of his mind for the last two decades. It wasn’t going to be easy, but he valued you and your relationship more than anything else in the world.

Maxwell stood up and pointed towards the door. “Mr. Stagg, I’d like you to leave.”

Simon blinked, bewildered. “Huh?”

“I’d like you to leave now,” Maxwell repeated steadily, trying to not let his anger get the better of him. “You come to my home; you’re rude to me and my partner, and you even admit to visiting city hall with the intention to invade my privacy for your own nefarious means. Fuck your investment and get out of my house.”

Simon’s gaze flicked between you and Maxwell. “You’re throwing a way a deal you’ll never get back.” The white haired man warned.

“Out.” Maxwell spat.

Simon stood up with a screech of his chair against the marble floor and his piercing blue eyes flicked between yourself and Maxwell.

“I’ll be telling the committee about this.” He warned. “The FTC too… have them launch an investigation.”

Maxwell chuckled, his brown eyes now black as he grabbed Simon by the tie and pushed him into the wall.

“Eugh!” The old man groaned and you called Max’s name after never seeing this side of him before.

“You say one more word about this and I’ll make the rest of your life a misery, I promise you that.” Maxwell hissed. “Now get the fuck out of my house.”

A flustered Stagg nodded his head quickly and rolled out from under Max’s broad posture before bolting to the front door. Simon had already disappeared half way down the porch by the time Max had followed him out. Cheeks still burning red with anger, Maxwell shut the front door and forced a sigh of relief, and for a split second he forgot you were standing there, behind him, anxiously awaiting answers.

“Max…” you trailed off. Your boyfriend turned around, his dark eyes round and hurt. “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Maxwell swallowed nervously and sat you down on the soft white sofa. He didn’t know how you’d react to this. He’d kept this a secret from the whole world because society wasn’t exactly accepting towards people like him. He’d spent years assessing equations and creating strategies, creating a story and a new life and a new him. If he wanted to be in with a chance of being even just slightly successful, he had to change. He knew that from being so young, and it wasn’t until he was seventeen did he actually take the steps to do it. Plans and plots and cryptic, clockwork like schemes had led him to you… led him to build Black Gold Cooperative into everything he’d ever dreamt it could be.

“My parents aren’t dead,” Max’s revelation began with a bang, his voice barely above a whisper. You recalled back to your first date with Max when he explained to you that his parents had died in a planned, catastrophic car chase. You’d already heard about it though, from the media. You had no reason not to believe him. “They live in Mexico. Well my mom does, at least, in a small town called Todos Santos. That’s where I’m from. She never moved. And I don’t speak to my dad. They divorced about ten years ago.”

Maxwell stretched out his arms and placed them on his knees. He couldn’t bear to look at you, and instead, he remained as still as ever, staring at all the luxuries in front of him that he could’ve never afforded without leaving his old life behind. You, on the other hand, stared at your boyfriend long and hard, your heart beating against your chest, so hard you worried about it bursting out.

You swallowed. “What— I don’t—“ you shook your head, tears of fury filling your eyes as you tried to understand why he’d lied to you after all these years. Why he’d lied to the world.

“My dad was abusive. He’d hit me, but he’d hit my mom more. We had no money. Mom couldn’t work and dad was an alcoholic so… we couldn’t afford food or new clothes. We had nothing.”

Maxwell laughed weakly as he remembered, but the laughter was filled with traces of dismay and hurt. The memories came back in flashes and echoes and Max’s tummy twisted into knots as he thought about his past. He’d repressed it for so long. There had been no need to revisit it… until now.

“School wasn’t easy,” Max shook his head as he recalled the countless incidents of tormenting and bullying. That was putting it lightly. “And I definitely couldn’t afford college. And my grades weren’t good either, with my circumstances and all… I found it very hard to focus on my studies.”

Max shook his head, pausing to collect his thoughts. Push them away. Push away the bad memories.

“I worked in a garage for three years and saved enough pennies to fly out to D.C., obviously I hid the money from my father. I just… left one day without a word. I didn’t even tell my mom. For a month I lived in a motel off Highway 66, and then I was able to get another part time job and I managed to save for community college. I took an interest in business and entrepreneurship and I decided I’d give it a go. I founded Black Gold when I was eighteen… and, no one was interested,” Max continued, his voice melodious with fond at the memory. “I had discovered the perfect business opportunity amidst the Cold War but no one was interested in investing and I just didn’t get it. But then I looked around and I realised nobody looked like me… nobody had a name like me…”

“A name?”

“I was born Maxwell Lorenzano,” This time, Maxwell shifted and made eye contact with you. You noted his glazed eyes and soft expression. “All the big names in business, people like Henry Ford and Ray Kroc and Michael Milken. They had strong white names. People saw their names and were able to put faith in them and that’s exactly what I needed. So I changed my name and my hair and I bought nicer clothes and as soon as I made those changes people suddenly became interested in me. It was crazy. It happened so fast. My business venture suddenly seemed trustworthy.”

“That’s… I had no idea…”

“I left my life behind. Black Gold grew and grew. I started getting invited to events and galas and then I made it to Forbes Top 100. Everything was moving so quickly. I still send my momma pay-checks and make sure I take good care of her. I see her every Summer but usually just tell my team I’m away on business. She’s proud of me. I wish she could meet you…”

“She can,” you said quickly, placing a hand on Max’s thigh and leaning into him. “Max… I’m so sorry about all of this…”

“I should never have lied to you.” Max shook his head.

“No, you should’ve. And you did. You did the right thing. You lied to me because you were scared and I get it. You’ve had to sacrifice your whole life. You are so… brave.”

“I don’t feel it.” Max admitted sheepishly. He often made a habit of being too hard on himself.

On instinct, you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Look at the empire you have created… look at this life that you’ve made all by yourself. Every odd was against you and you tried and tried and never gave up… I’m speechless.” you shook your head in disbelief and blinked away the tears from your eyes. “All of this is because of you. This home, the nice clothes that we get to wear and the food in the refrigerator and… all of Alistair’s toys and games. You gave us all of this.”

“I guess I never looked at it that way before.”

You wrapped your arms around Maxwell and scooted atop his lap. “I’d say I forgive you but really, there’s nothing to forgive. You don’t have to be sorry for leaving your past behind and doing this on your own. Thank you for trusting me with your secret.”

“Should I be worried about Stagg?”

“Fuck him,” you spat. “Baby, no matter what happens, we’ll get through this together. Not that you need me of course, look how far you’ve come on your own.”

“I need you more than you could ever know,” Maxwell murmured into your lips, pressing the curve of his nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Maxie,” you replied before kissing him softly. “No matter who you are and what your story is, I will always love you.”

…

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #max lord #maxwell lord #max lord x reader #pedro pascal x you #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #wonder woman 1984 #maxwell lorenzano

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thewayofthemandalorian · 1 year

Text

rumour has it - oneshot

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: When your office needs to be repaired, you have to share an office with Maxwell Lord, the man you (allegedly) can’t stand.

Word count: 4,664

Notes: I had the idea of doing academic rivals for a while with Maxwell Lord, but I decided to do a bit of a twist with it. This is a modern college au featuring Max as a business/economics professor and our reader as an English professor. There’s a lot of gossip and rumours surrounding their relationship, but nothing is as it appears. This was really fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it.

This fic is cross-posted to my AO3 account under the same name, which can be found linked in my masterlist. Follow @thewayofthemandalorian-writes and turn on notifications for fic updates.

Comments/reblogs appreciated.

Warnings: Rumours, gossip, references to affairs, kissing, references to sex, non-explicit sexual content (fingering, semi-public sex, needing to be quiet, interrupted sex).

masterlist (main) || masterlist (maxwell lord)

“I heard that Professor Lord and that one English professor can’t stand each other!”

It’s the same gossip that spreads like wildfire at the beginning of every school year. It eventually gets back to you and Professor Lord – Max – one way or another. You’d never forget the time that a student straight-up asked you if the rumours about you and Maxwell hating each other were true. You’d sidestepped it by asking, “What does that have to do with your assignment on Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Stacie?” The student in question had blushed bright pink and quickly changed the topic.

It isn’t true that you can’t stand Max. Not even a little bit. Sure, his teaching is unconventional, and his enthusiasm about economics is something that you don’t really understand that much, especially given that you almost failed economics in your undergrad. That was how you and Professor Lord had met; you’d been partnered in an assignment. He did a lot of the heavy lifting. He even tutored you before the exam. The C-minus that you ended up getting and pulling down your entire GPA had been all him; you’d been so relieved to pass the course (and this was an elective course for you so when applying to grad school the C-minus didn’t matter) that you didn’t care. You never had to think about economics ever again.

“Well, I heard that they had a really messy affair a few years ago and it ended really bad.”

“Ugh, as if she would cheat on her husband. Have you heard her talk about whoever Mr. Professor is? Like he’s the only man in the world? No. I think they’re exes who dated in grad school.”

Both of those things are also categorically untrue. Yes, you are married. So is he. But there were no tempestuous, ill-fated affairs behind closed doors. And no, you are not a scorned ex.

You don’t hate Maxwell Lord. He doesn’t hate you. You are cordial with each other on campus when you do see each other. But you don’t see each other that often on campus because of your differing departments. Hell, your offices are in different buildings. You don’t dislike Max Lord, how could you, when you don’t even spend that much time together? Still, it makes you laugh. You have no idea where the rumour started, but every year it always comes back. Is it because you and he are no more than cordial co-workers who barely interact and when you do interact it’s short bursts at a time? Heaven forbid co-workers from different faculties who happened to go to the same university for undergrad and for your masters degrees don’t spend time together as adults.

You don’t dislike Max Lord. Not at all. Sure, he was a bit intense when you first met him, an intensity that hasn’t really gone away, but he’s certainly…charming. Sometimes you wonder what he thinks about all the gossip that spreads around about the two of you. Also, you wonder if there are any other faculty members that are gossiped about on the same level that you and Professor Lord are.

It’s rare that you go to your office during reading week, but you left something in your desk that you need before classes start again next week. It’s Thursday. A particularly wet, rainy Thursday in a very wet, rainy week. Hopefully it stops raining soon, you and your husband had plans to go for a hike in the woods before the temperature drops. As you’re pulling into your parking spot, your phone rings. It’s not a number you recognize, but you answer it anyway. “Hello?” The man’s voice on the other end says your name in a questioning tone. “Yes, this is she.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I work maintenance in the building where your office is and with all the rain some of the offices on the lower level have been flooded.”

Your office is on the lower level. “I see…” you say, knowing and dreading where this conversation is going.

“I’m very sorry to have to bother you like this, but I’m afraid to tell you that your office has been flooded.”

In a daze, you listen to what the maintenance worker says about how the college will pay for the repairs and insurance is covering any damaged items. He says to expect a call from the dean soon to inform you what to do, and to please come in as soon as it’s deemed safe.

Twenty minutes later, still sitting in your car, texting your husband about what’s going on (he calms you down almost immediately and reassures you that everything will be okay), the dean calls.

“I’m so sorry that this is happening,” he says. “But rest assured, everything will sort itself out. Honestly, we’ve been meaning to renovate those offices for a while. This is the perfect opportunity.”

The dean goes on and on about how everything will work itself out and that you’re going to be just fine. “I would suggest working your office hours from home, but you need to offer that time to your students. So, for the time being, we’re pairing up the professors who have lost their offices for the time being with professors in different buildings. It’s a bit of a snafu for scheduling, but it should be fine for office hours and whatnot.”

You sigh, not knowing what else to expect. You need to keep working, you need to maintain your office hours, but that’s not possible in a water-damaged office that needs repairs. “Okay. Who am I paired with?”

“Professor Maxwell Lord in the Greenwood building.”

- - - -

“I heard that they shared an office when they were in grad school while they were repainting Professor Lord’s office and it was so chaotic that someone found their office in shambles. Just, things everywhere. And they were clearly pent-up and aggravated.”

With your box of books and photos that were salvaged (all of the photos were in frames, thank god), you make your way to the Greenwood building on Monday morning. It’s Professor Lord’s day off, so you aren’t expecting to see him when you arrive.

“Oh! Professor Lord,” you say, “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

Maxwell frowns and looks like he’s about to say something else, but changes his mind at the last minute and instead says, “It is my office.”

You nod, suddenly flustered. “I–I know that. I just… I thought it was your day off today.”

Max shrugs. “I wanted to be sure you found it all right and knew where to put your things.”

Blinking, you say, “That’s… so kind of you. And thank you again for sharing your office with me.”

He grumbles something about the university being lazy about waiting so long to fix the very obvious problems your building was having before the flooding. “It’s fine.”

There’s only one desk. No more would fit in there without cluttering the room and would take up too much space. It’s a small office to begin with. “You can take that side of the desk if you like. Books, I’ve got space available on the bookshelf on one of the lower rows.” You nod.

“Great. Thanks.”

“It’ll be just like old times,” he says, his eyes twinkling at the memory of the last time you shared an office in grad school.

“What actually happened and what is reported to have happened were two very different things, Maxwell,” you remind him, your lips twitching as you try to remain as prim as possible.

He steps closer to you, grinning. “I know. I remember. Would you like help with setting everything up or are you okay?” he asks.

You shake your head. “It’s not a lot. Not sure where I can put my pictures of my husband. Worst case, I can take them home, but I like looking at him when I work if I can.”

Max nods, his own lips twitching now. “I understand. I am the same with my wife. I’ll leave you to it. I’ll see you at h—back here tomorrow?” he asks, covering up his almost slip-up last second.

The rest of the day passes smoothly and you send out a reminder email to your students telling them where they can find you for your office hours later in the week before you go to your lecture. You ignore every question about you and Maxwell sharing an office, except to tell the class that your office hours are the same and that you’re working out a schedule with Professor Lord. You slip up and almost call him Max before catching yourself last second. You don’t miss, but ignore the raised eyebrow of one of your students sitting in the front row.

The next day, you and Maxwell arrive at about the same time. You’ve figured out a schedule for office times that isn’t disruptive to either of you. “Good morning, professor,” you greet cordially.

“Professor,” he returns, equally as polite.

You check the time on your phone and see that you still have time before your office hours start. “I’m going to get a coffee before my office hours start. I only have one scheduled meeting, but not until ten, when you go for your economics seminar.” You pause. “Did you want anything while I’m there?” you ask, hovering at the door.

Maxwell thinks for a minute, running a hand through his brown hair. You remember how he tried to dye it blond in junior year of college when you first met him. It, mercifully, hadn’t lasted. When you asked why he dyed it, he’d shrugged and said he wanted to try something different. “My usual, please, que–professor.”

When you return twenty minutes later, he’s with a student, going over a recent assignment. “Here’s your americano,” you say to him, handing him the Starbucks cup.

“Thank you, querida,” he murmurs. Your eyebrows shoot up and he realizes what he’s said. Luckily, his student didn’t hear. Still, he clears his throat and adds, “Uh, this shouldn’t take too long.”

You shake your head, smirking to yourself. Something to discuss with your husband later. For now, though, you sit on the couch and plug in your headphones and begin grading the midterm exams, taking them out when the student leaves fifteen minutes later. “You don’t have to put your headphones in when I’m discussing things with a student, you know that,” says Max.

“I know, but I’m sure the student appreciates the privacy. Especially when they’re clearly not doing well.”

Max nods in agreement. “He’s not failing, but he needs help. One of the other students is offering to tutor him.”

You smile. “That sounds familiar.”

Before Maxwell can answer, there’s a knock on the door. You and Max both say at the same time, “Come in.”

It’s your student. “I know I’m early and I’m sorry to interrupt if you’re busy–”

Max shakes his head, looking at his watch. “I have to get going or I am going to be late for my seminar. I’ll see you later.”

“Come on in, Sophie. What was it that you wanted to talk about?” you ask, ushering her in and gesturing to the couch that you were just sitting on.

“Isn’t it weird that you have to share an office with Professor Lord? I mean… what does your husband think about it?”

You stifle a sigh. “It’s certainly a bit of an adjustment. As far as my husband, well, he understands perfectly. But we’re not here to talk about that are we?” You level her with a stare that you hope isn’t too stern.

Sophie blushes. “No. Of course not. I was wondering about the upcoming essay and what exactly you were looking for…”

- - - -

“Dude, that’s not it at all! They were, like, academic rivals back in the day and now she’s jealous that he has tenure.”

“Bro, they both have tenure. She has more funding than he does, though.”

The weeks go on like that. You and Maxwell get along well. You’re polite and easygoing with him. He’s the same with you. Out of all the rumours you’ve heard, not one of them is close to being the truth. Not a single one is even in the ballpark.

“That smells good,” you say, coming into your shared office space one day in mid-November.

Max looks up from his lunch. “My wife made it last night. One of my favourites.”

You refrain from saying what’s on your mind. “She sounds nice.”

It isn’t a test, nothing of the sort, nothing like that. Maxwell’s entire face lights up. “She’s wonderful. I’m so lucky to have her.”

You smile, thinking the same about your husband. “And I’m so lucky to have my husband. It’s a bit of an odd match, me and him, but we work well together, you know?”

Max nods. “Exactly what you mean. We are a team, y–her and I.”

You step closer to the desk, not knowing what to say. Finally, you settle on, “It’s always good, being a part of a team.”

Max’s day ends earlier than yours on Thursday. At two-fifteen, after looking over his notes for his lecture tomorrow, he packs up his bag and says, “I’ll see you later, professor.”

You give him a parting smile, “I’ll see you later.”

The rest of the day goes by without any fuss. You text with your husband when he gets home from work, saying that you hope that you’ll be home sooner rather than later tonight.

An email notification pings on your computer. It’s an update about the office renovation. It’s going to be another few weeks, possibly the end of the semester before it is finished and would you mind finishing out the semester in Professor Lord’s office?

Truth be told, you’re used to it now. You could do to have it be bigger and so could Maxwell, but you get along, far better than anyone else on campus would believe. You write back that it’s fine and you’re looking forward to seeing the completed project in the new semester.

Once five o’clock rolls around, you’ve officially had too much reading time and you need to stop for the day. Packing up, you begin to make your way home.

The drive home is uneventful. It gets dark so early now so you’re glad to be going home before it gets too dark.

Shoving the key in the lock, you push open the door. “Honey, I’m home.”

Your husband is in the kitchen, you can smell dinner cooking in the oven. He comes out of the kitchen, wine glass in hand for you. “Hi, querida,” he murmurs.

Leaning up on your tiptoes, you kiss him. “Hi, Maxie.”

Yes, the one rumour that no one ever thought of was that you’re married to Maxwell Lord and have been since finishing grad school. The rumour everyone thought was too wild to be true is that you are madly in love with each other.

- - - -

Seven years ago

“Hi, I hope it’s okay that I share your office?” you look up from the paper you’re working on in your office to see the person who helped you in economics two years ago.

“Oh, hey! Max, right?” you ask, already knowing his name. You’d liked him ever since, even with the bad dye job he had back then. He’d been intense, but sweet, getting to know his story here and there between then and now, your first year of grad school. You’d seen him at a few parties but hadn’t really hung out with him all that much outside of that.

“Yeah, economics. Anyway, um, they are painting my office. I don’t know why they couldn’t do that in the summer but here we are.”

You wave that away. “Of course it’s fine.”

And that was that. You had fallen hard and fast for each other. Max admitted to you on a date that he had liked you from the very beginning of that economics class and that he’s been working up the nerve to ask you out ever since.

You learn more and more about each other in the passing weeks that you share an office and go out with each other. He’s not in touch with his father, but tries to call his mom at least once a week. He was born in Mexico but moved to the United States with his mother when he was a sophomore in high school, changing their last name to Lord from Lorenzano as soon as he could, to distance themselves from David Lorenzano. Max has always wanted to be a successful businessman, making several businesses in high school with his friends that never really went anywhere. When he realized that that probably wasn’t in the cards for him, he turned to the idea of economics, having always been interested in it. You realized that the intensity that you noticed at first was from nervousness. The more he got to know you, the more you got to see past that veneer, seeing a sweet, kind man.

You can’t keep your hands off each other, taking every possible opportunity to sneak away for a makeout session or a quickie in the closet at parties or functions. You’ve been attracted to people before, but never like this. This is love, plain and simple. It’s not without its ups and downs, especially as students, trying to do well in grad school so you can go on to get your PhDs in your respective fields. The disagreements that do turn into fights though are few and far between, always so in sync with each other.

You get to know the real Maxwell Lord. He’s sweet and nerdy and genuine. He gets to know you and sees that you are also sweet and nerdy and genuine. You are as driven as he is, passionate about what you are doing, and you pour that passion into pretty much everything you do. Including your relationship with him. It’s something that he reciprocates.

Even after Max’s office is finished being painted, he still spends more time in your office than his. He says it’s bigger than his, which you go along with. Neither of you believe a word of it.

It’s just before final exams when it happens. You’ve spent the last week grading final essays and grading seminar participation. Not to mention doing your own coursework; your neck, shoulders and back are begging for respite from being hunched over your desk at all hours. Your eyes are burning, both from exhaustion and staring at screens for long hours. Sitting at your desk, you hardly hear Max come in. “Querida. Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m just tired. And a bit stiff.” You offer him a tired smile.

“I can help with that second part,” offers Max, wiggling his fingers at you.

A back rub sounds heavenly. “Would you?” you ask. “That would be wonderful.”

Max kisses your forehead and tells you to turn back around in your quite frankly uncomfortable chair. He starts in your scalp, hitting all the pressure points expertly. You sigh in appreciation. His hands work down your scalp and onto your neck. Closing your eyes you allow yourself to relax as your boyfriend finds all the knots and tight spots in your neck, shoulders and back.

“I love you,” you murmur at one point. You’ve never said it before. Not with words. It doesn’t seem like enough to convey your feelings for him.

“I love you, too.”

You turn in your chair and kiss him. You have to kiss him. Not just in appreciation and gratitude for his massage but to further convey your feelings for him.

Eagerly, Max returns the kiss, pressing his body into yours, pushing your back against the table. You don’t care that it might undo everything that Max’s nimble fingers just achieved. You want him.

You’re half on your chair half on the table, your leg hooked around his thigh. “Are we really doing this here, bonita?” Max asks you, his own eagerness evident, straining against his jeans. “Here?”

You nod frantically. “I can’t wait until we get back to my apartment, can you?”

Without answering, Max gently places your shut laptop on the extra chair before sweeping away all the papers that were littered on the desk. You don’t even care that you’ll have to organize them later. Right now, you just want him. Max turns to lock the door, then returns to you.

Efficiently, he unzips and unbuttons your jeans, kissing you syrup-sweet slowly as he does. He lowers your pants and your underwear, his fingers quickly proving that they’re skilled in more than one way.

“M-Max.” Your voice is guttural, reedy. It doesn’t take long, his fingers skilled and deft at the task at hand. You are about to cry out when his unoccupied hand comes up and covers your mouth, muffling the sound.

“We need to be quiet, bebita. Can you be quiet for me?” he asks.

You’re beyond words at the moment, so you nod against his hand. He takes it away for a minute. “Good girl.” He kisses you sweetly before they become more and more heated. You help him unbutton and unzip his slacks. He had a presentation to give today, so he’s still dressed from that. Anticipation thrums in your veins, electric and warm. You’ve never done anything so… reckless before.

Your fingers rest on the waistband of his boxer briefs, ready to pull them down…

Knock-knock-knock.

You whine. That is the only word to describe the sound that leaves your lips. It’s petulant and frustrated. “Are you serious?” you groan under your breath.

“Maybe they’ll go away,” Max murmurs, kissing your cheek and then your lips. He’s just about to push in when the knocking returns, a student calling your name from the other side of the door.

“Are you still here? I just wanted to ask something about the exam.”

You can’t lie, you think about not answering, but you’re sure that Emily can see the light from under the door. You lean your forehead against Max’s and silently sigh as he pulls his pants back up and adjusts himself to the best of his abilities. His eyes say it all.

Later.

Pulling up your own jeans, you reply, hopefully in a level voice, “Uh, yeah, Emily, I’m here. Just give me a second, okay?”

You take in the room around you; you’d barely registered how the desk became cleared of all of the papers earlier. You assumed that they went flying. While they are a bit scattered, they aren’t in complete disarray. It helps that they’re mostly finished being graded.

Max grabs his coat from his chair and folds it over his arms. “We aren’t finished here,” he murmurs. Your body thrums in eager anticipation.

You unlock and open the office door. “Come on in, Emily.”

“You were having a meeting,” Emily says, “I’m sorry. I should have emailed first.”

Max shakes his head. “It’s fine, I was just leaving,” he says as blandly as possible. “I’ll be seeing you,” he says to you, discretion lacing his voice. It’s not a secret that you and Max are dating in the graduate program, but you’re not sure if the undergrads know or not. You neither know nor care.

“Sorry about the mess, it’s exam season, you know how it is…”

- - - -

“We should have a repeat performance of what happened the last time we shared an office,” Max says, his chest rumbling against your ear.

You look up from where your head is resting against his chest, his arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him in the afterglow. “Need I remind you, dearest husband of mine, that we more than made up for that interruption later that night.”

He chuckles, remembering that night. “I know, but all the same.”

You have to admit, the idea has crossed your mind more than once. “It would have to be when the semester is over and there’s no one on campus.”

Max wrinkles his nose teasingly. “That takes out all the risk of it,” he points out.

He’s got a point, but you’re professors now. It’s different than when you were lowly grad students. “I’ll think about it,” you answer wryly. “Maybe next semester, I’ll pop by for a visit once my office is back in commission. It’ll be a surprise, you won’t know when to expect me.”

“Minx.” You smile wickedly up at him before resting your head back against his chest. Max kisses the top of your head and doesn’t say anything for a long minute. “Oh, I meant to tell you. I ran into Steve and Diana earlier today. They reminded me of their standing open invitation to dinner.”

“That’s nice,” you reply. “Maybe in the new year.”

“That’s what I told them, we have finals to grade and then the staff holiday function and then the holidays, so it’s a busy time of year.”

“It’s crazy how quickly the semester went. Can’t believe tomorrow is the last day of classes,” you muse. Max strokes your hip and you shut your eyes at the feeling. “I have to say, as frustrating as my office being flooded was, I’ve really loved sharing an office space with you again, Max.”

“Me too,” your husband replies. You tilt your head up and kiss him.

It isn’t long before your kissing turns to more. It never gets old with him. You love him as much now as you did all those years ago. He’s generous and passionate and attentive, always knowing exactly what to do. You make a good team and you’re so lucky to have him by your side.

The next day, you don’t have to work. Still, you wake up early, start the day with Max. Your plan is to do as much grading as possible, wanting to submit the final grades online as soon as possible. Max has a long day today, two lectures and a seminar. As he’s getting ready, you make him his lunch, leaving it on the kitchen counter next to his phone.

“Have a good day at work, my love.” You kiss him goodbye as he picks up his lunch.

It isn’t until an hour later when an email notification from his phone makes you aware that he’s forgotten it here.

You know it’s an important thing to leave behind and that he’ll need it during his office hours. He likes listening to music while he’s grading or waiting for an appointment with a student. Not to mention, all of his emails and texts and everything else. Glancing at the clock, you see that he’s just about to start his last Economics 101 class. If you leave now, you should make it there before the break. If there even is one. He said this morning that all he has planned is an overview of the course and hints about what will be on the final exam.

By the time you arrive at the lecture hall, the class is just coming back from its break. You can hear Max call the class to attention as you enter the hall. Students notice you before Maxwell does and start whispering.

“What are you doing here?” asks Max when he notices you.

You brandish his phone. “Sorry to interrupt, but you forgot your phone. Left it on the counter. Thought you might need it.”

He smiles at you and takes his phone from you. “Wondered where that got to. Thank you.”

You return the smile. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you later this evening.”

Turning around, you exit the lecture hall.

“What was all that about?” asks a student.

Max shrugs. “I left my phone at home, she was kind enough to bring it to me.”

“Yeah, but why her?” asks another student.

“Because she’s my wife.”

Every hand in the classroom goes up.

The End

#pedro pascal #max lord x reader #max lord x f!reader #ww84 #ww84 fanfiction #ww84 max lord #ww84 max lord x reader #my fic #my writing #wonder woman 1984 #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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pedritapascal · 8 months

Text

Max Lord Always Gets What He Wants.

Maxwell Lord Always Gets What He Wants

WARNINGS: Explicit Sex; Sex Language; SA; Fingers; Tongue; Nudity; Explicit Details

Pedro Pascal's character - Maxwell Lord aka Max Lord - [ML]

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Being in a place like this really suits me. I don't know at what point during the phone call last night, while Jimmy was telling me about what was happening on the Indian reservation in Montana, I thought it would be a good idea to just take the first flight out in the morning to get here.

I look around to see the fence lying on the ground, on one side some Crow tribesmen with rifles resting on their shoulders, pistols in their holsters as they ride their Appaloosas or Arabian horses on the other side of the territory once marked only by the precarious wooden and wire fence on the ground, is the richest family in Montana.

The big case here is, where a huge herd of buffalo can be seen in the distance, it's the land of the Crow tribe, and on the other side of the fence where there are three huge, grim-faced men and where I can see some pedestrians arriving on their tricycles, it's the land of Mr. Lord, yes, Maxwell Lord IV, my father's best friend. Not that I ever really spoke to the man, because he was always meeting with Dad talking about riches and lands, our family gatherings on big occasions or closed contracts, always very cordial and kind to me, I can't remember a time when Max didn't frequent our family. And despite this, I still followed him around the salon whenever I had the chance, wasting a minute or two more on the newspapers where pictures of him appeared. Always overbearing in his luxury suits.

- The animals are here now, no matter what you say, they're ours now - Lodge Grass, the tribe's leader, arches an eyebrow, his strong jaw moving and clenching as he chews his tobacco

And then the whole argument starts again, I try to calm it down, the fact is that yes, the animals are from the Lord's farm, and yes, the buffalo even have a cattle brand on their ear listing each one, but they are here on Indian land now. When the men raise their guns, the weather heats up, the thin trickle of sweat running down the back of my neck gives me goosebumps, and this has nothing to do with Montana's 37° heat, the midday sun doing its job along with the arid terrain…

- Hey hey, Mick, put the damn gun down, Lodge is right - I speak with one foot on either side of the divider where the fence is, right on the division of the land, my hands up asking everyone to calm down before they actually pull the trigger and I end up like a sieve in the middle of this semi-desert. - What a great idea, huh?

- Get out of the way, little girl, you shouldn't be here - Mick complains, pointing his gun at Catori, who is very tense on his horse to my right…

- Well, I guess there's not much point in me coming here every weekend to train the horses on the Lord's estate, is there?

- What the hell? - I hear Mick talking as a helicopter approaches us, dust flies around us, I have to put my hand in front of my eyes to keep from going blind, the loud noise of the propellers makes me dizzy, or maybe it's the logo of the Lord family empire that gives me a damn vertigo, strange things happen in my stomach that tightens and retracts as if I were on the long descent of a roller coaster

- What is it, boys? We can solve this in a civilized way - I hear his voice low, hoarse, the sexy sound of it brushes across my skin like a caress giving me goosebumps, even with the sound of the helicopter gradually diminishing, the propellers stopping turning, his voice is still powerful and strong, like a general making himself heard in the middle of war

The farmhands lower their weapons and I watch as the men behind me refuse to lower theirs, still under their horses.

Maxwell is wearing a dark gray three-piece suit, his black dress shoes match the suspenders I could see when the ends of the suit flew off. His gaze is hidden by his sunglasses.

I turn to look in the direction of the white corsair with dark spots

- Don't you see my niece here? - The voice sounds so much closer now, I feel arms wrap around my waist in an innocent hug

- "That's my favorite niece," he whispered so quietly next to my ear as he looked at me over his glasses, that if it weren't for the shiver that went straight down my spine I'd think I'd just imagined the words.

- "Hi Uncle Max," I shrug, feeling my cheeks heat up strangely, and snort at the indignation of my traitorous body wanting to blush. I don't blush

- Mick, let it go, a few head of cattle won't make any difference - Max slings an arm over my shoulder and starts guiding me towards the helicopter, not taking much notice of the situation…

- But Sir Lord - Mick complains - There's hundreds of dollars in there - The man grunts, sounding disgusted

Maxwell Lord says nothing, just looks at the man, stops him in his tracks and continues his confident steps, guiding me. I'm amazed at how easily he gave up so much money and how quickly he solved the problem by helping the indigenous people in the end.

- When are you going to New York? Has your father told you anything about winning a scholarship? I don't know what the options are, but you should move there - he said, not wanting to talk about what had just happened

I didn't ask him how he knew what was going on here, after all he always seems to know everything, and I didn't need to ask him why he came in person to sort it out. I think your friendship with my father is important enough for him to want to guarantee my safety.

- You make it sound as if I have somewhere to live other than under the bridge - I scoff lowly

"It's not just because my father has some money that he did anything for me, he was very firm after my teenage years that I should make my own money, especially when I refused to follow the career path he had planned for me.

Me, a defense lawyer? That would never work, and he thought it was far inferior to his little girl to be studying political science with an emphasis on social welfare.

- Don't be silly girl, I have an apartment there, you can make yourself at home. - As long as you don't mind me stopping by once in a while on business.

At that moment he had his glasses off and I could see those brown eyes shining at me in the warm sun and I forgot what to say

- Let's see - as he stretches out his hand, beckoning me to get on the helicopter with him, I just say no - I'm going to take advantage of being here and get on with my work, I miss my... your horses - I smile, remembering who's really in charge here

- See you soon then - he kisses my hand, puts his glasses back on and disappears into the helicopter…

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Moving to New York was one of the best choices I could have made, I still miss the farm and the horses I used to train, seven months is a long time without riding, without feeling the wind whipping my hair and the horse's breath synchronized with mine, intelligent and sensitive animals those, able to understand me better than any human being, not to mention the always cold climate of New York and the people always in a hurry and who didn't seem to see you…

Max showed up here four times during that time, none of them telling me he was coming, and I didn't really care, he proved to be great company, we ended up watching something or talking about trivial matters, the last time I just watched as he worked, the sleeves of his dress shirt folded up to his elbows, his tense body hunched forward, looking at a pile of papers, his hair still in place even after hours of work, that day he wore a petrol blue vest and my legs felt weak from watching him concentrate, I can still feel the slight dampness between my legs just with the memory...

I shake my head, trying to concentrate on the papers in front of me, the many books spread out in front of me, having chosen political science as my major is killing me...

I stand up a little to stretch, the black baby doll rides up my back as I stretch and reach for a book on the other side of the table

- Ufhh - I hear a loud sigh behind me and I jump up looking over my shoulder with my heart racing from the shock.

- Hey, it's you - I giggle, going over to Max to give him a hug - I got a fright.

- I didn't mean to - he smiles and hugs me back, his chin resting on the top of my head while his hands go around my waist and rest on my hips, stroking with his thick fingers.

- You look tired - I say, noticing the soft dark circles under his brown eyes, today he's just wearing a white shirt, a black suspender that matches his dress pants and Italian shoes, his jacket hanging on the rack in the hallway

- It's been a long week - he goes into the kitchen, ignoring the papers scattered on the counter, all the things I need to study for next week's exam - I'm going to open some wine to relax, will you join me?

He shakes a bottle of Domaine Leflaive Montrachet, I didn't know much about wine, but I knew it wasn't the cheap stuff I sometimes drank at night while studying, it would certainly be one of the most expensive wines in the world, and even though I'd love to share a glass with him, I thought I'd better not risk it

- It's better not - I say laughing, watching as he pours a good amount into a glass and then grabs another from the cupboard that I can barely reach without standing on my tiptoes, he doesn't even have to stretch - Wine has an effect on me very quickly - smiling in a corner and a little miffed at having been...flirtatious, I shrug, looking away and going into the living room to find something to watch.

- Oh, you're not going to do that, are you? - I saw him coming with both of them in his hand, both with two fingers of wine in each

Well, since it was in the glass, I wasn't going to waste it. I sat down and picked up the glass and he sat down next to me and started telling me about his turbulent day. I loved it when he told me about his problems and asked me for advice on how to act in certain situations where he had to deal with emotion, because according to him, he didn't have a heart, he was 100% rational and that's how you won in life...

He loved how much I paid attention to every word he said and with my raised eyebrows I only ignored when he said that this world would eat me alive if I kept being so sweet...

- Little one, ignore what I say about you being sweet, keep it up, bring balance... it's just today that was - he gasps tiredly, leaning back against the sofa, while I finished my second glass of wine...

And I saw how comfortable he was with me, tie loosened, two buttons open, sleeves folded...

Max pulled my legs apart and let me rest on his lap, his big, warm hand sliding down my calf to my knee as we laughed to some movie playing at a very low volume in the background. I wasn't even paying attention anymore.

And with the first sip of the third glass, my legs itched where I felt his skin touching them, I felt hot and wet, my stomach light and my thoughts running like torrents in my head. When I felt his fingers on my lower thigh, I let out a low moan, unable to disguise the way he was touching me, my skin so tingling that it was impossible for him not to have noticed the hairs on my arm that were bristling

- Max - I moaned again when he put my legs on his lap and I felt the huge erection there

I don't know who moved first, who pulled who or how it happened, I just realized that I was straddling his lap, my thighs hugging his hips while I was right on top of his big, bulging erection. His mouth hit mine hungrily and the low moan I heard made me gasp and get even more aroused, my panties practically sticking to my wet pussy as I began to roll slowly onto his lap

Our tongues intertwined as he deepened the kiss, the wet kiss, with teeth and bites, that slow kiss that leaves your legs weak and your heart racing wildly in your chest. Max's hands grabbed my ass and pressed it hard against his cock, making me moan even more into his mouth, fuck yes, I could feel his length right on my clit. My hands on his face, holding him back for fear that he might run away from me, even though I was the one who should have run away...

- We can't, shit this is wrong - I gasped as our mouths parted

He grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me into another kiss, silencing my protests. One of his domineering hands went to my waist and guided me back into the movements so that we could rub together.

My hands now in his hair, gripping and squeezing the back of his neck, we looked like two teenagers who had never experienced a hard-on before in their lives.

I pushed his chest so that he lay back on the sofa and I opened the remaining buttons button by button, so lost in my own hard-on that I could barely think, and just feeling was taking an enormous effort. My hands were shaking, I don't know if it was because I was so horny or because I was so tense that it was really happening. That's when I felt his fingers squeezing my ass, making me rub my honeyed pussy, covered only by the thin fabric of my panties, even harder against his hard cock.

No, it definitely wasn't another dream about Maxwell Lord, he was there, touching me eagerly and thirsty for me too...

As much as it hurt between my legs, I really wanted to taste him. I moved away enough to unzip Max's pants, it was a martyrdom and he complained when he no longer felt the heat of my body so close to his.

When I sidestepped your mouth, kissing your cheek, then biting your neck, dragging my tongue across your chest and past one of your nipples, I looked up and saw your naughty, cornered smile.

- "It's so wrong, Max, but I want it so much," I said whimpering, the weight of my conscience trying to bring some sense to my horny thoughts.

- I want it too, little one, I've always wanted it - he caresses my cheek and just that light touch gives me the strength to continue, he lifts his hips when I pull his underpants down a little to release his erection.

His cock is big, so big that my eyes widen in surprise. It must be about 18 centimeters long, with veins and a bulbous head that's red and irritated with lust, the little pearly drop at the tip makes me salivate with desire as if I hadn't sucked a cock in 84 years.

- You're so beautiful here," I say, stretching out my tongue and catching the drop of pre-cum, moaning when I taste it on my tongue.

- That's it, my little whore, I want to see all my cock in that delicious mouth." The thick, husky voice makes me sigh, he gathers all my hair in his fist and guides my head towards the huge head of his cock.

I wrap my mouth around it, taking in every inch, taking care not to scrape my teeth, I feel his strong thighs tense under my fingers, and I look up in time to see his head falling back and his eyes closing, his fingers tighten in my hair and he pushes slowly so that I swallow more.

- Go on, a bit more, swallow all of my cock - he says quietly, as if he can't keep the strength in his voice and God, I love being able to do that to him.

I relax my throat and swallow the remaining centimeters, feeling the head of his cock touch my throat and throb with my tongue

- Oh, fuck. You're so good at sucking me small

I moved up and down, pressing my lips around the veins and dragging my tongue along the underside, his fingers gripped my hair tightly, immobilizing me, and then he fucked my mouth, pumping, making the head of his cock slip into the back of my mouth again and again.

I grabbed his balls and massaged them between my fingers, motivated by the moans and grunts Max let out as he fucked my mouth.

- Oh my God, stop or I'll come - God, I was loving how he was begging me, the mighty Maxwell Lord, begging me?

He kept begging me as he tried to stop me from continuing.

But I squeezed my lips tighter around his length, my tongue swirling around and over the slit at the tip every time I almost pulled it out of my mouth and then swallowed as much as I could.

I could feel his balls throbbing in my fingers, my legs tensed and he thrust one last hard thrust, moaning as he came in my mouth, the thick strands of cum running down my throat, making me smile and suck the tip clean.

When I sat on his leg, I wiped the corners of my mouth with my thumb, saw how his brown eyes were blazing at me and how his chest was rising and falling while his breathing still hadn't returned to normal...

Max settled down with me on his lap again, one hand sliding up my thigh to grab my ass and the other wiping away the tears that had formed in my eyes when I slid his cock into my mouth.

- I thought I'd told you to stop - he says, squeezing my cheeks with his hand and without leaving me time to reply, he kisses me, tasting himself in my mouth and exploring everything with his tongue

I feel a naughty finger passing through my ass and going to the tight bundle of nerves making me a little tense but then he goes down moaning in my mouth when he feels my panties all wet, pulling them aside he runs two fingers through my pussy and sighs biting my bottom lip

- All wet for me, little one, look how you've made my fingers wet - he brings his wet fingers in front of my face before putting them in his mouth and sucking on them, making a Ploc with his lips.

I'm not a silent person, not really, but my brain seems so melted and full of serotonin that I can't think of anything witty to say in reply

- It's very nice here - Max says, grabbing my ass with both hands, his fingers so firm that I know I'll have his fingerprints all over me the next day - But my bed is bigger - he adds as he pulls me onto his lap.

Fuck that's wrong, very, very wrong. But fuck, I'm in love.

- Don't you think it's a bit strange? Us doing this, huh? - I ask, kissing his neck as he carries me towards the master bedroom he always uses when he comes over...

- No, nothing's wrong here - he presses his fingers into my ass and throws me onto the bed, making me squeal with laughter.

I take a moment just to look at Maxwell Lord, he looks like a Greek god of sex and sin, his hair, which has always been in order even after hours of work, is messy, his tie is open and hanging from his strong neck, his white shirt is open, showing the few hairs on his chest and the way to his doom, his forearms with thick, visible veins are bare and the fabric is folded up.

His suspenders are down, falling close to his knees, and his open pants show his black boxer briefs. On his face is the damn corner smile that makes me gasp and squeeze my legs together

Realizing how affected I am by the sight of him still dressed, he makes no effort to take off his clothes. Instead, he climbs onto the big bed on his knees like a lion ready to corner its prey, pushes my knees apart with his hands and stares at me seriously, taking off my baby doll shorts, and then when he grabs the ends of my panties, he tugs hard, tearing the fabric. I take advantage of this and finish taking off the rest so that he can have all of me...

His concentrated eyes focused completely between my legs, his red tongue flicked across my lips and he lowered himself without saying a word, taking a long lick of my soaked slit, from my perineum to my swollen clitoris I could feel the moist touch making me press my fingers into the pillow and close my eyes

- You have such a sweet little pussy - he said, giving it another long lick, making my legs tremble with tension - I'm going to love spending hours here

- Ho-hours? - I ask, choking when I feel his tongue penetrating my entrance and I feel his fingers parting my lips to give him better access - Fuck, Max, I'm not coming...

I grow silent as he runs his tongue up my clitoris in tight, languid circles, sucking and rubbing the nerve endings.

- Shiiiiiu, you're going to take it, I'm going to make you take it - he says with a cocky smile, always overbearing, and I love it - I'm going to give my little whore everything she needs, don't worry little one...

He adds a second finger to the first and goes back to sucking all over my pussy except the point where I need it, he licks and bites my lips, takes his fingers out and then sticks his tongue in as far as he can and then comes back with his fingers, driving me crazy, making me gasp and moan with abandon. The heat between my legs spreads to my belly and down my legs, my head feels heavy and I try to keep my eyes open looking at his handsome face as he pleasures me

Whenever I'm close to cumming, he slows down, making the shivers of orgasm go away and leaving me on the edge of the precipice of wonderful cumming and frustration, frustration that he soon pushes away as he begins his torture all over again.

- Oh shit, I never thought you'd be a patient man - I moan between my teeth when I feel the light blow right on my clit making me shiver and moan

The light slap on my breast came as punishment and then I felt his fingers roll over the nipple and squeeze the hard tip making me even crazier, pushing my hips towards him.

- I'm very patient - he punctuates by slipping a finger into me again, slowly in and out several times - You have no idea how much - a second finger joins the first and the movements speed up making me hopeful that he's finally going to make me come - I've had to wait a few years for this, I'm going to fuck you all night - he mumbles this last part, as if he thinks I'm going to refuse.

It seems so.

Three of his big, thick fingers fuck me and when they're all the way inside me he curves them slightly upwards, touching something very close to what I need. When his tongue touches my clit and I hear the moan of appreciation, I don't need much more than one or two stimulations to finally explode in an orgasm that makes me shudder and scream his name, my eyes shut tightly as my lungs explode with the air I didn't even realize I was holding.

It takes a while to feel his weight on top of me, his hand running down my leg from my calf to my thigh and pulling it towards his hip. I felt the big head of his cock at my entrance and stifled a surprised yelp when it slid all the way in in one hard, fluid movement

- Aah, fuck, don't move - I say panting, pressing my hands that were previously dead on the mattress to his back, trying to hold his body to mine and keep him still.

- "Fuck, you've got a huge cock," I complain, but I can't stop myself from smiling when I feel the lips on my neck - which had been kissing there before - stretching and the breath of his kettle laugh close to my ear.

- I'm not going to move - Max says, lifting his tight lips in concentration, his eyes two small, shiny slits, the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth appearing

- You're so fucking small everywhere, aren't you?

Now it's my turn to laugh. He squeezes my ass hard as if staying still like this is too much of an effort, I kiss his chin, and his neck, run my nails lightly down his back and try to roll over feeling a little wider for his cock and less uncomfortable, when I do it a second time he understands that it's okay and pulls out only halfway and then enters again with a slower movement Breathing hard

- Faster - I'm almost begging as I start to feel ready again, the easy slide of his cock because of how wet I've gotten from the first orgasm.

Max kisses me deeply, his tongue assaulting me in a slow kiss as he thrusts hard and goes all the way inside me, I gasp into his mouth and he swallows all my moans. The sound of our bodies fills the room, the thrusts getting faster and stronger, the hand that was on my ass goes up to my breast, paying attention to my nipples while the other holds him above me

- I'm so close," I say, still listening to his dirty whispers in my ear.

- "Then come for me, lick all over my cock," he murmurs and I almost scream at the shocks I feel when his fingers reach between us and rub my clit.

I feel another wave through my body, this one calm and spreading through all my limbs, without being that crazed explosion, every part seems to heat up, shivering and tensing and then the relief comes like gentle waves of the sea kissing my skin and sliding between my legs. I'm so soft and lost that it takes me a while to realize he's moved away, his sweaty chest no longer touching mine and the fabric of his pants rubbing against my legs.

Max turns me over on my stomach and puts a pillow under my belly. He slams both hands down on my ass, making a loud pop, and shoves his cock into me again without slowing down as before.

I've never been quiet during sex but I can't think of anything to say or do, I can only enjoy the sensation of him so deep inside me. I know he's about to come when his thrusts become frantic and erratic, his fingers press hard into my hips as I meet his movements, he pulls out again cursing and cursing and I feel the hot come hitting my back and ass, I turn to look at him over my shoulder, Max has his head thrown back, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open, the veins in his forearm are so dilated that I can see the slightly green color, his shirt is open, his chest is heaving and I can still see his pants halfway down his thighs.

With a long sigh, he opens his eyes and smiles at me. With two fingers, he spreads his cum all over my ass and uses them to lightly stroke my asshole, making me tense up a little.

- Relax, little one, we've got all night - he reminds me with his other hand caressing my back, lightly slipping just the tip of his finger into the cluster of muscles and nerves and smiling again as I try not to tense up - Hasn't anyone ever played with you here?

- No, sir, Lord." I nod, smiling, still looking at him over my shoulder.

- Then let's take a shower, today everything you have will be mine. - Stretching out his hand to help me, since I looked weak...

I'd never dared to go into the bathroom of Max's suite, but once I went into his room when he wasn't there just to get another blanket because it was a cold night in New York and I felt like an intruder in that place.

Max always liked a lot of luxury, and his bathroom was no different, a rectangular bathtub that ran from one wall to the other, almost a swimming pool, not that I hadn't had luxury in my life, I had until the moment I took my father to be free, and I'm sure that if I hadn't done that, this night wouldn't be happening.

Max turned on the taps as the bath filled up, and I just watched him as he moved around, still in his clothes, standing in front of the sink, removing his rings, his Swiss watch, he looked at me in the mirror with a smile in his corner as I watched his every move sitting on the edge of the bath, waiting for the moment when my body would actually touch his... he was enjoying seeing the effect he was having on me.

- Come on, little one, I'll help you get in - taking me by the hand to help me

- Hey, but you...?

- Shiiiu, just obey me...

I've never been one to obey anyone, but he had me like under a spell, so I did, I sat in the bath, the water warm, he was still sitting outside, he took my hand, stuck two fingers in my mouth, making them wet.

He took my hand to the middle of my legs...

-When I'm not here, and you touch yourself, do you think of me? - pushing my hand deeper inside me and pulling it back

- "I-I do, sir," I said, biting my lower lip.

-And when you come, do you call my name?

- S- yes... - I moaned low, like a whimper, not sure if I was too shy to confess that I was thinking of him like that, or if my voice failed me because of the hard-on that was taking over my body.

- So now you're going to touch yourself, while I watch you until you come for me, little one...

He stood up, leaned against the sink, crossed his arms at chest height, he looked me up and down, as if he owned me, and that night, he did...

- Go on, you can start... he motioned with his head for me to start for him... and I readily obeyed...

I put one leg on either side of the bath, so that he could see me completely, I leaned my head back a little and left my hands where he put them, I felt the slight shocks on my clit as I moved my fingers up and down, Max just watched me with his lower lip bitten.

- Moan louder for me little one - he ordered

It didn't take much effort at that point, as I started to circle my fingers, I felt a wave of pleasure coming over me, and another orgasm coming as I whispered his name, just like those nights when I wanted him...

Max enjoyed everything to the end and approached the bathtub, I was still gasping from my last orgasm when I saw him finally take off his shirt, leaving it on the floor... and then his pants and underwear.

I adjusted myself in the bath as he got in and pulled me close to him, I felt his hands on the back of my neck and his lips on mine, a long kiss...

I could finally feel his body on mine, the touch of his skin on mine, as we kissed I enjoyed every bit of him with my hands, I squeezed his strong arms, smoothed my hands down his back a little, until I reached his ass, where I squeezed slowly and felt him smile in the middle of the kiss.

- I never thought that behind all your sweetness, you were hiding this horny woman - tucking my hair behind my ear

- Does that bother you?

- No, of course not, it surprised me in fact, in a positive way, I don't think I'd have the patience to teach you things - smiling

- Always overbearing, aren't you Maxwell Lord - squinting - Can I ask you a question?

- Of course...

- You said today that you've waited years for this... what do you mean? You're not going to tell me that since I was 18, like in those novels we read and the guy is just waiting for the girl to come of age and? - he interrupts me

- Buurf - he snorts - Of course not, it was later... actually - he seems to remember when it was - Remember a Thanksgiving about five years ago?

- And how can I forget...

- It was that day, you were already 21, in college, doing law, and in the middle of dinner, while your father was talking about what your life would be like, you stood up and said you'd dropped out of college four months ago

- My father almost had a heart attack that day - I remember with wide eyes

- Yes, the vein in his forehead popped out - Max laughs as he remembers the scene -

That's when I saw you as a woman for the first time... and then when you came with the excuse of training the horses at the stud farm, because you had nowhere to stay, since your father had cut down everything?

- But I really wanted to train the horses... I just wanted to combine the useful with the pleasant

- Did you know that I started visiting that stud farm more after you went there? And I loved watching you from the balcony in the late afternoon while you rode...

I'd never seen you like that, talking about your memories with such sincerity, even more so with me...

- So you mean I was in Max Lord's thoughts? - I try to be overbearing, but he doesn't answer, he just raises an eyebrow at me, pulling me closer to him as he glues his mouth to mine again...

His kiss is slow, but hard, as if he doesn't want to lose any of me there, one of his hands holding me by the back of the neck, under my hair, and the other gluing me to him, down my hips, lifting one of my legs, I feel his thumb passing through my bct, I moan softly into his mouth, he sticks his thumb in quickly before going down a little further, I feel the tension when he starts to caress my ass, and he says into my mouth.

-Just relax

My body trembles, I hold him by the nape of the neck as he thrusts deeper and deeper, letting out low moans still in his mouth...

- Max...

He continues until he's halfway in, and pulls it back out, slowly making his way back in, his mouth descending to my neck, while I felt his tongue licking it, he played with my ass as he wanted...

- It won't be good for you here - he whispered in my ear - Let's go back to bed, so I can fuck your ass…

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Max lay down on top of me, pulled the hair out of my face and kissed me affectionately

- I promise I'll be careful, I just need you to trust me, okay, little one? Brushing his nose against my cheek

I just nodded, I was tense, but I wanted him there so much...

Max put me on my side and lay down behind me, like a little mattress, I felt his bare chest touch my back and his lips kissed the back of my neck, going down to my shoulders, his hand was now searching for my pussy, he opened me up a little to reach my clit, making me wet again, he ran his fingers inside it, taking as much of my libido as he could, and began to caress my ass calmly while still kissing the back of my neck, I felt the head of his huge cock forcing its way in, my body tensed.

- shiiiiii, calm down, if it hurts, just tell me

Him whispering in my ear was just what I needed to relax, my hand gripping the mattress as I felt him invading me, at first I thought it would hurt more, but I was anesthetized and held by Max's huge arms, he kept thrusting halfway in, his hand started holding my neck, taking the air out of me a little, as if he was going to suffocate me, I felt his hot breath in my ear

- You're so tight, baby," he snorted.

I thrust my hips more towards him, causing more of his cock to enter me, I felt him gasp and hold my hips, Max started to pump hard and slow while moaning and whispering in my ear, his hand went down from my hip to my clit where he started to touch me while he pounded faster and faster into my ass, I was in ecstasy, feeling his hips already hitting my ass, and his moans getting louder and louder

- Come for me again little one - as he circled my clit with his fingers - I'm going to come inside your ass now

I'd lost count of how many times Max had made me come so far, but I could feel the next wave coming, and God, him pumping so deep into my ass was really driving me crazy...

I thrust my hips even more as I came, and I called his name loudly MAX... I gasped loudly and heard him moan, straddling me as he pumped his entire cock into my ass, Max moaned loudly and stroked his face through my hair, and I felt him come inside me, his sweaty body glued to mine as our breathing returned to normal, I felt him slowly pull out of me

- You were great, little one - he whispered in my ear - better than in my fantasies...

Max turned me towards him, smoothing my hair out of my face... he smoothed my cheek and kissed my forehead, then went down to my mouth, lay down and pulled me to his chest...

When I woke up Max wasn't in bed with me. If it weren't for the insistent pain in all the right places on my body I might think it was just another one of my torrid dreams about him, but the throbbing pain in my pussy and ass won't let me forget that so quickly

Good Mr. Maxwell Lord, I look forward to your next visit...

PEDRITA PASCAL

35 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 2 years

Text

The Election {Max Lord x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10k

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

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

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

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

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

“Who’s that?” You frown.

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

“I don’t follow politics.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?” You balk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

“What hermosa?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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iamasaddie · 3 months

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DEAR FIC WRITERS (and readers)

Please, this is important!

I have a severe Max Lord brainrot today and if you have (or if you know of) a fic where Max is either Dom or just on a dominant side PLEASE rec them to me or tag me in them 🙏🏻

begging on my knees kissing both your cheeks

love,

aly

#pedro pascal fanfiction #max lord x you #max lord x reader #max lord x female reader #max lord fanfiction #ww84 fanfiction

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simpingcowboy · 2 years

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A game called "Would They Go?" where I assess Pedro boys as to whether they would go in my stupid little date ideas or not!!! First up...

A Butterfly Garden Date

Javi Gutierrez: Yes!!! He loves anything you love. I think he'd also just enjoy the general beauty of it. Would love to listen to you ramble about the different kinds of butterflies and flowers.

Dave York: Absolutely not. He fs engages in toxic masculinity and will not go do that with you. If you did manage to drag him to it he would go everything in his power to assert he is not enjoying himself.

Jack Daniels: Also engages in toxic masculinity BUT is not as threatened by butterflies as Dave York. He would go and take cute photos of you with the butterflies.

Javier Peña: He doesn't really understand the point. He'll go but will end up falling asleep on a bench. Also refuses to take his sunglasses off even though you're kinda indoors.

Din Djarin: Yes. I think he would have a nice time. I don't think the butterflies would really wanna land on him with all his beskar but him and the butterflies are generally neutral to each other's existence. He'd enjoy the scenery and seeing you have fun. Gets antsy about whether butterflies carry diseases or can hurt you. You assure him they're safe. Din will not bring Grogu. Grogu would eat them.

Max Lord: Initially doesn't really get the point, but once he settles into the idea finds it very relaxing. He may or may not purchase his own butterfly garden in the near future to escape to on stressful days. Max loves all the different colored flowers.

Oberyn Martell: Of course!!! He adores it!! Oberyn finds it endlessly entrancing. He'll take a very leisurely pace, secretly willing the butterflies to land on you. He longs to see you adorn with such beauties.

Pero Tovar: Is confused. Feels like a trapped animal. Would go out of curiosity, but then immediately leave. He fully hates it, but would just tell you to go enjoy it while he "stands guard" outside.

Marcus Moreno: He'd enjoy it. He loves learning! So he's reading all the plaques and really taking in the educational aspects. It feeds into his DILF persona. Is taking lots of blurry photos to show Missy when he gets home. He is recommending this place for a school field trip in the future!

Dieter Bravo: Yes, but he would get super high before going. Plants himself on a bench and stares open mouthed gawking at the butterflies as he lets the drugs kick in. Dieter is sitting so still the butterflies start landing on him in swarms. All he does is turn his head to look at you and say "Babe, this...this is...wow" as he silently cries. It quickly becomes one of his favorite activities to do when he's high and has time to spend with you

Max Philips: Due to the nature of it being a day time activity I think he'd have to pass. He had been to them when he was human and while he would not admit it aloud, he's a little disappointed he can't go with you. When he was able to go before as a human, he found them very peaceful.

Marcus Pike: He loves seeing you smile, so of course he would indulge. It's a bit more public than he usually likes for dates so he's constantly trying to pull you away to a less crowded area. But he considers it a good prelude to your date until he can take you to a more intimate setting.

Frankie Morales: He would definitely go!! And definitely enjoy it. Living in the city he can't always indulge in nature the way he'd like to, but a butterfly garden is a good compromise. The environment is very calming, but controlled in a way where he doesn't have to worry about any triggers. He's able to really bring all his focus in on you. It's one of the few times you see him really be at peace with himself. You'll be sure to come back here again sometime.

#Am writes #Frankie Morales x reader #Marcus Pike x reader #Max Philip x reader #Dieter Bravo x reader #Marcus Moreno x reader #Pero Tovar x reader #Oberyn Martell x reader #Max Lord x reader #Din Djarin x reader #agent whiskey x reader #Dave York x reader #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal characters

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rosepascal · 10 months

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yay to 1K!! 💙

don't know what this would fall under but which character do YOU think would be a sugar daddy?? 👀👀

as a current broke bitch living in corporate america i'd dig a sugar daddy rn lmaooo

Ooo okay im gonna cheat a little bit because I have multiple answers but i mean...its fine

Number 1 sugar daddy is Jack Daniels. Alright here me out. The Statesmen got money and daddy whiskey is a top agent so he's got money too. Sure some of that is the Statesmen but it is a business too soooo. Anyways Jack gives off such old school rich vibes where he doesn't need to buy pointless luxury items to flaunt his money. He has one nice car, nice suits, designer glasses, his apartment is nice too. He's a complete gentlemen and he has no issue dropping money on you while treating you like royalty. Sugar Daddy Jack Daniels got that metal credit card u know.

Okay next I think Dieter Bravo would be a sugar daddy. He's rich rich. He's hollywood rich. He's also wild as fuck so he does buy all the designer brands and spends money on weird rich people stuff like a tanning bed in his own home. Yet he deadass wears target robes and crocs. He'll spend money on you left and right. You even look at a pretty necklace in the window store? It's yours. You mention needing a new purse. He has 7 ones lined up for you to pick from, but it doesn't matter what you choose because they're all yours anyways. He craves your company and always wants you by his side at every club and every party he goes to. He's unhinged as fuck but he loves you.

Max Lord would be suchhhh a sugar daddy. He loves his son don't get me wrong but the man needs more and he's got a lot of money so he sees no problem in dropping money to make you happy. I can see you being his assistant and though he pays nice it's not enough to keep up with school debt and rent. So Max helps with all of that and more. He buys you pretty clothes and expensive jewelry because you work for him and he wants you to look your best at meetings. He buys you a new car because you take the bus to work. He buys you flowers every week. (He can do all that but can't buy suits that fit)

Javi Gutierrez is a sweet sugar daddy. He doesn't act like your typical rich guy. He throws nice parties and lives in a beautiful home but he's a little awkward and a total teddy bear. He will by anything your heart desires. Even if you tell him you don't need it. He wants to buy it for you. He loves seeing you so happy and your eyes light up.

Oberyn Martell!! He's literally a prince. He has as much wealth as he could ask for so of course he'd use it on a sugar baby. He's irresistible. He's suave and charming. His money is an after thought but he pays no mind to it. He wants you in the fanciest clothes with the shiniest jewelry, living your best life with him. Yes he has other lovers but that doesn't take away from how loving he is to you. There's plenty to go around of Oberyn.

#jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #max lord #max lord x reader #javi gutierrez #javier gutierrez #javier gutierrez x reader #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #1k celebration

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free-for-all-fics · 10 months

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Pedro Pascal Character Prompts! This list includes: Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, Javi Gutierrez, Max Lord, Din Djarin, and Max Phillips. If you’re inspired by any of these, pls tag me and I’d love to read it! 💜

1. Whenever and wherever you and Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels want to have alone time, (in a hideout cabin, his office at Statesman HQ, hotel room, before/during/after a mission, whatever) he’ll put his cowboy hat on the door handle as his way of saying, “Do Not Disturb”. Eggsy, Tequila or someone else was fed up with it like, “Stop fooling around and suit up! We have a mission, there’s work to do. No more cowboy hat! Cowboy hat is coming off the door, okay!? I’m coming in so quit doing whatever you’re doing!” And took the hat off the door to try to get you and/or Whiskey to hurry up and get moving. Only to walk in on you and Whiskey in a compromising position. (You’re riding him like a horse in cowgirl or reverse cowgirl position or he has you tied to the bed with his non-electric lasso and your legs over his shoulders while eating you out. Or a mystery third option, whatever you desire.) The intruding agent is traumatized but Jack is unfazed by being walked in on. He doesn’t even pause or falter in his loving on you while he nonchalantly says,

“Oh c’mon, kid. You know what cowboy hat on the door means. Everyone knows what it means.”

2. Something cute (or sexy, up to you) where Agent Whiskey is being needy and/or flirty, and uses his non-electric lasso to rope you in by the waist and demand a kiss…or two…or ten. Maybe you try to walk away from him for one reason or other and he’s not having it. He’s caught you fair and square and isn’t letting you go until you give him lots of sugar, Sugar! 😘

3. You’re Champ’s daughter and also a Statesman agent but oh no when you and Agent Whiskey mix business with pleasure after you catch feelings for each other. Over the course of many years of going on missions together, it’s no surprise you’ve grown close. It’s sort of forbidden love because you’re the boss’s daughter, so you and Jack often have to get creative to keep your escapades secret. You’d rather Jack not get fired or killed by your father. If you both ditch your trackers and earpieces and go dark for a few minutes or an hour to have some much needed “alone time”, you can later blame it on bad reception or needing to lay low to not get detected by the enemy. But what if the way Champ discovers you and Whiskey are together is you’re at a mission briefing and you accidentally say, “Daddy, can you pass the [item]?” And both Jack and Champ reach for it at the same time. Uh oh.

4. You and Jack go to one of those country bars that have mechanical bulls for customers to ride. (Could be for a mission, to get close to a target or could just be leisure time). There’s a friendly contest happening where the person who can stay on the bull the longest gets a great prize. After a few drinks, Jack dares you to try it. To his surprise, you master riding the mechanical bull. You don’t fumble even once or ever come close to getting knocked off, no matter how fast and erratic the mechanical bull’s movements become. While watching you, Jack is fucking turned on by the way you move your hips back and forth to shift your weight and keep your center of balance. You say something like, “Riding mechanical bulls is much easier than real bulls.” Jack blinks and looks at you in disbelief, now with questions on his tongue but you just say, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Optional Bonus: Somehow he convinces you to “ride home on a real Cowboy” and spend the night with him. You've got him pinned down as you try to ride him within an inch of his life and he's just laying back with his arms behind his head and going, "That's all you got? For a girl who can expertly hold onto a bull, it looks like you're having trouble staying on." His cocky grin makes you wanna slap him but that’s when he flips you over and brings out a flogger, smacking your ass with it as he grips your hair and starts pounding into you from behind. “Don’t worry, honey. you can whip me next round if you’re good for me.”

5. You’ve been blackmailed or threatened by Lucas to infiltrate Javi’s luxurious home in Majorca under the guise of a new assistant and get as close to him as possible, with the goal being to eventually kill him. You don’t want to, but you can’t refuse the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Spain. He’s holding too much over you. The more time you spend with Javi, you admire his spirit and ambitious nature towards film. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way nor under these dire circumstances, but you fall in love. You nearly crack under the pressure of your predicament, wanting so badly to tell Javi the truth - especially when months pass and he proposes. You’re finally ready to confess everything, even if it means forfeiting your life.

But before you can even answer his proposal, Lucas destroys your hopes and dreams of a happy future. He's kidnapped a politician’s daughter and bursts in to reveal your affiliation with him. Javi feels betrayed by your deception and doubts if anything about your relationship was real. With your dirty past exposed and your cover blown, you’re resolved to save Javi from his cruel and bloodthirsty cousin no matter the cost. Even if he never loves you again, even if you die trying to save his life, you won’t let Lucas get away with his crimes. You just hope Javi can forgive you eventually.

6. You come from a very average upbringing. Your life isn’t the most luxurious or exciting, but you’re happy enough. Very rarely do you get to travel or go on vacations, let alone internationally, but somehow fate lands you in Spain. (Maybe you’re on a business trip, rare vacation, studying abroad, etc.) While on a small ferry boat, you and the people you’re with get lost due to fog or darkness and accidentally end up off the coast near the luxurious home of Javi Gutierrez. When the boat hits obscured rocks and everyone evacuates, he and Gabriela run out to rescue you from the water, bringing you all safely back to shore. As Javi wraps a warm blanket around you, your hands brush his.

You nearly stumble and fall from how handsome he is when you see his face through the light emitted from the flashlights. He catches you, assuming you’re wobbly from the shock of the accident. He lets you lean on him and helps you walk as he guides you inside his mansion. He and Gabriela are kind enough to let you and everybody else stay as long as needed to recuperate, but Javi seems especially drawn to you and wants you to stay, even after everybody else has made plans to leave. Well, your life just got a lot more exciting, hasn’t it?

7. You’re an American studying abroad in Spain and somehow fate lands you in the arms of Javi Gutierrez. You don’t recognize him or know who he is at all, and he finds your ignorance to his identity very refreshing. It allows him to just be himself around you and not put up a facade as figurehead to a crime family. You swap phone numbers and he takes you out for lunch dates, car rides for sightseeing, etc. His home in Majorca is beautiful. You enjoy any time spent with him, even if it’s in your small apartment or rental car. He’s just as interested in you and your studies as you are with him and his passion for filmmaking. You’re both ambitious in your own unique ways, and while you come from very different social classes and wealth brackets, you develop a camaraderie.

You’re both deeply saddened when you admit you’ll have to return home eventually. Javi loves you so much that he was willing to let you live with him or pay for your living expenses so you wouldn’t have to leave, but you’d never ask that of him or accept such a generous offer. He can’t bear to be apart from you forever, so he offers a compromise: He’ll endure a long distance relationship and support you while you’re pursuing your studies and career of choice, but he’d like you to come visit him during winter and spring breaks. He’ll pay for your travel expenses. Please don’t argue with him on this. Or he’ll come to you and fly to the US if it’d make you feel better. Even a week or two of having you to himself would be enough to satiate his cravings for you and hold him over when you’re apart again. (Along with maybe the intimate photos you’ve taken for his eyes only 🤫) It’s a few years later when he flies over for your college graduation to congratulate you, a small velvet box in his suit pocket.

8. You and Javi were once a very happy couple, so in love you felt sick. You were just a plain and average American exchange student when you met him, but he became your best friend and you couldn’t have asked for a better partner. You kept your blossoming romance secret for a very long time, deeming it unsafe due to Lucas and his criminal activities. Despite your circumstances, Javi loved you so much he couldn’t bear to wait anymore and asked you to marry him. You accepted. You both understood that you’d have to have a long engagement, since you couldn’t marry until somehow you were able to get away from Lucas and his crime organization. Javi thought he was discreet enough when sneaking in and out of the mansion to see you. You thought you were thorough, making sure you left no visible trace of yourself behind when you left his place under the cover of night.

You and Javi went unsuspected for a while, but somehow Lucas connected the dots. He threatened you and/or your loved ones, and at first you tried not to let him get to you. You thought your love for Javi would be strong enough to endure this, but Lucas’ tactics of intimidation and threatening became too much for you to handle, culminating in him threatening to break Javi’s neck if you didn’t break his heart. So you broke off your engagement to Javi, giving him back the ring. This caused a huge argument in which you lied and pretended you didn’t love him anymore, even going so far as to say there was another man when he kept pushing you for an explanation. You left without telling him the truth, since Lucas made it more than clear he’d kill you if you told Javi anything. You go back home to the US and don’t see him again for a long time. But when the fiasco with Nic Cage and the CIA is finally over and Lucas is arrested, Javi wants only two things in the world: To make his movie and to find you. He’s determined to get you back and marry you now that he’s a filmmaker and can provide you with a safe and happy life.

9. Christmas Carol Inspired: Back in college, you met Maxwell Lorenzano. He himself couldn’t afford to enroll, but he caught your eye while doing custodial work on campus. This allowed him to sort of have access to the library, but it wasn’t enough since he couldn’t take any books home and he soon wanted more. You wanted to help, so you’d check books out for him so he wouldn’t get in trouble for theft. You became friends and then sweethearts as you gave him the emotional and financial support he needed during his struggles to rise to the top. Even if it was something as simple as buying a muffin for him at the coffee shop, you’d do it. He’d tell you all about his hopes and dreams for the future, but never mention his past. You were so proud of him when he founded Black Gold Cooperative and elated when he proposed to you. The ring was just a plain band with your and his initials engraved into it. There was no gem, but it was perfect to you.

But years went by and your engagement kept stretching on and on, with no wedding date set. No matter how many times you asked him about it, he wouldn’t commit and deflected the topic. You knew he wanted more than anything to become a successful businessman, and now he’s achieved it. He’s the CEO of Black Gold Cooperative, a television personality popular with the public, has a mansion and luxurious clothes, cars, Rolexes and rings. You just never thought he’d cast you aside and neglect you. He always wants more, more, more, never satisfied with what he has. With his new name of Max Lord and rich lifestyle, you hardly recognize him anymore. He’s so busy and hardly makes time for you. It’s like he’s erased you from his life almost completely. You’ve loved him for so many years, overcame many hardships and challenges with him. But this is different. This is too much for you.

Despite how he’s changed and treated you in recent years, you still love him. You know he’s a good man underneath it all, but this is not the kind of life you signed up for when you accepted his proposal. It’s because you love him that you enter his golden office and interrupt his meeting with an investor to set your engagement ring on his desk. You’ve done all you could for him, the last kindness you can offer is to release him from the long ago promise he’d made and wish him well. You’ll always be grateful to him for loving you. You both had very little back then, but your lives were simple and full of love. You’ll treasure those memories always. Now he has everything he’s ever wanted in life, and that doesn’t include you. Maybe it did once, but not anymore.

10. (Possible sequel idea to the above prompt, but can be stand-alone): You and Max Lord were once in love, but the romance eventually fell through and you broke it off, even if you didn’t want to and it was a last resort. Max never fully got over you, no matter how many women he fooled around with while living his new, luxurious life. It all felt so hollow and meaningless now without you. No woman could ever compare to you. To everyone in the world it seems he’s a man who has everything his heart desires, but he still wants you. You're the motivation behind his search for the Dreamstone. After becoming the Dreamstone itself, Max uses his powers to trick your current partner into wishing for something so that he can take you back in exchange. What Max didn’t foresee was the effect it would have on you. You’re still yourself, but it’s like you’re under a strange love spell. You’re totally normal, but you’ve gone back to loving Max the way you did before your breakup, as if time has reversed. Nothing about you has changed.

Oh, except one teeny tiny thing: You have no memory of your other relationship with your (now former) partner. They’re a total stranger to you now. It’s as if the events surrounding yours and Max’s deteriorating relationship and breakup never happened. Max isn’t sad or guilty about this development. He justifies his actions to himself, self-assured he can make you so much happier and love you better. You loved him first, and he’ll be your one and only. He’s realized what terrible mistakes he’s made in letting you slip away from him, and he wants to make it up to you. He never blamed you for leaving, the deterioration of your relationship was solely his fault and a consequence of his own failings as a lover, but he’s changed. He’s become a better man and realized what’s most important. He wants more than anything to marry you so he can spend the rest of his life proving it to you. This is a second chance for you both.

11. You’re Max Lord’s ex-wife and mother to Alistair. You’ve had boyfriends after your divorce, but none of them really stuck. You have joint custody with your ex-husband. You and Max love your boy more than anything in the world, that’s at least one thing you can agree on. When you drop off Alistair at his dad’s workplace for his weekend, you grow concerned about Max’s disheveled appearance, especially his bloodshot eyes and bleeding ears. You urge him to see a doctor, unaware of what he’s done. Though you divorced, you can’t help it that the love you have for him still lingers. You still care, even a little bit. He brushes you off and assures you it’s nothing. When Max becomes addicted to the Dreamstone’s power and nearly causes the end of the world, it’s not just Alistair that’s running and screaming for Max to save him, you’re there too. To the very end you protect your son, even if it means shielding him with your body and getting seriously hurt by the destruction around you.

Seeing you and your boy in peril makes Max renounce his wish. He comes to save you both, but gets scared when Alistair runs out from the trees alone. Until Alistair leads him back to you, badly injured and in urgent need of medics, but alive. Your ex-husband and son stay by your side while you’re recovering in hospital, and it’s during this time that Max admits he’s never stopped loving you. He asks for a second chance to be a better husband than he was the first time. He asks if you would ever consider marrying him…Again? You tease him and say you’ll entertain the thought, but he needs to take you out on some dates first.

12. Still just a child at 50 years old, it’s clear Grogu will outlive both you and Din by hundreds of years. Tell an angsty or bittersweet story centering around Grogu’s life, the years spent with his human mom and dad, including when he goes through the inevitable deaths of both you and Din. (Whether you outlive Din, Din outlives you, or you die together is up to you.) How would Grogu grieve and continue his life without either of you by his side? How does your son spend his days after you’re both gone? Would he keep beloved keepsakes that once belonged to you or Din to remember you both by? Would he have a sort of shrine dedicated to you both or visit your shared resting place? How does he live out the rest of his years, up until the end of his own journey and his time comes to be reunited with his parents? When he reaches old age, he knows you and Din will be happy to see him again. He wants to be held in Mama and Daddy’s arms again, even if he’s not so little anymore. And when he does finally return home, he’ll have many stories to tell.

13. Somehow Evan intentionally or inadvertently sabotaged yours and Max’s relationship so badly that his words or actions drove you to leave Max and/or drop out of college. This is why Max slept with Evan’s girlfriend, which only resulted in Evan getting him kicked out of school for cheating. When he returns from Romania as a vampire, he’s determined not only to get under Evan’s skin as much as possible by watching him squirm and question his own sanity while he turns the whole department into vampires. He also wants to find and reconcile with you so he can turn you and fuck you on Ted’s desk. You had plans to marry after finishing college, and he still wants to make you his bride - in more ways than one.

14. You’re the vampire that turns Max when he attends school in Romania. You take him under your wing not only as a fledgling, but your lover. You teach him everything there is to know about vampirism. Together, you concoct an ingenious scheme to return to the US so Max can claim the position Evan so desperately coveted, while you work as head of HR. You and Max turn everyone in Evan’s workplace into vampires while messing with him to make him question his sanity and watch him squirm in paranoia. (Maybe Amanda doesn’t exist so you go so far as to get close to Evan and act romantically interested in him.) This is so Max can land a devastating blow when he fucks you on Ted’s desk in front of him, stretching it out as he makes Evan watch before you both finally reveal you’re a vampire too and are actually the one who turned Max, not the other way around. Max loved the look on Evan’s face when he realized you’re not only in cahoots with each other, but in love. Sweet revenge for Evan getting him kicked out of school and blacklisted from most universities. Though Max admits that maybe he should be thanking Evan. In a way, it’s because of him that Max had to attend college in Romania and met you in the first place. So Evan sort of brought you two together.

#pedro pascal characters x reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x reader #max lord x reader #maxwell lord x reader #din djarin x reader #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #max phillips x reader #fic ideas #random fic ideas #random prompts #pls tag me if you write any of these #i’d love to read it #pedro pascal character x reader #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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whiskeynwriting · 1 year

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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.

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