#maxwell lord fanfic

[absurdthirst]

The Election {Max Lord x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10k

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

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

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

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers​

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

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

“Who’s that?” You frown. 

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

“I don’t follow politics.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?” You balk. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

“What hermosa?” He asks. 

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

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

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

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

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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

[simpingcowboy]

A Late Night Call

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x GN!Reader, use of Y/N

Word Count: 1.5K+

Warnings: work place relationships, Maxwell being a softie

Summary: A late night call from your boss ends in an unexpected proposition.

A/N: Please accept this soft Maxie piece that's been laying in my drafts forever as an apology for being MIA <3 slowly getting back into writing! Ft. Raquel being an absolute gossip girlboss of a wingwoman

Max Lord sits impatiently by the phone. Eyes switching over to watch the time, doubts mounting with each click of the clock. Hands tracing up and down his thighs to stop from dialing the number.

He knows he shouldn't. It wasn't right. It wasn't professional. But he just had to. Max needed more than anything to hear your voice.

"A la mierda." Fuck it, Max hisses under his breath as he reaches for the hotel room phone quickly typing in your mobile phone number.

You slowly rose from your place in bed, where you'd been comfortably relaxing. The insistent ringing of the phone Max had given you. Making your way over to the phone you reluctantly press accept.

"Hello?" You answered in a sleepy voice.

"Good evening, Y/N" Max feels a tinge of shame for bothering you, but he can't deny the relief he feels at the sound of your voice. He'd missed you so much.

"Mr. Lord! I'm so sorry I wasn't expecting a call from you."

At the sound of Max's voice you feel much more awake than you were prior. Your boss and huge crush of the past year is calling you off the clock late at night. Initially, you're hit with concern; though some far back corner of your mind hopes for something more personal. But certainly that would not be the reason.

You straighten up and clear your throat. "It's rather late, is everything with the convention going fine?" You ask with concern.

"Late?" Max questions, glancing over at the clock by his bed it only reads 7:30 pm. He had given you an itinerary for the week he'd be off, meaning you should be finishing up at the office for the day.

"Yes Sir, it's 10:30 here. You're 3 hours ahead of us, Mr. Lord." You suppress the giggle in your throat.

Max dramatically slaps his hand to his forehead, internally cursing himself for forgetting. "Forgive me. You know how lost I am without you." He says in an attempt to charm you into excusing his mindlessness. "I hope I did not wake you? I can let you go if you need to rest."

His embarrassment is obvious by his tone of voice. You smile to yourself as you imagine him, blushing with his hand slapped over his forehead. The same way he always was when he'd made a mistake.

"It's not an issue Mr. Lord. You know I'm always available to you. What was it you were calling about? I'm not at the office, but I'm sure I can help."

"I just wanted to catch up with my favorite employee. Everything has been well? You and Raquel have everything under control?" A lie, but a good of an excuse as he could give at the present.

"Yes! It's been fine. The office has been a bit- boring since you've been gone, but we have everything under control." You say with confidence. With the exception of Raquel going on a very expensive lunch outing with a client all has gone to plan. Though your days were much more lonesome without Maxwell Lord to fill them with laughter.

"That's great to hear." He says with a pause.

"...Mr. Lord?"

"Yes?"

"Was um…was that all you needed?" As much as you loved talking to him, speaking outside of business hours, alone, in your home was confronting you with all your most personal feelings towards Maxwell. Felt as if you were on a late night call with a boyfriend not your boss.

"Oh I suppose it was." He says solemnly, desperate to not hang up the line yet. "But…we could- only if you want of course- talk a bit more…" he rambles, cutting himself off.

"I- I could do that…" a warmth comes over your face, burning hot. Suddenly very grateful he can't see you through the phone. "I'm not stealing you away from anyone, am I?"

You had never seen Max go on any dates, and he certainly was not married. Raquel also seemed fairly certain there was no one he was seeing in any sexual relations either. Still- you couldn't help but wonder. He could certainly get most anyone he wanted.

"No, I'm alone." Max states simply. "And I am not denying anyone your company?"

Max had never heard you mention any romantic partners, and according to Raquel you had been single the whole while you'd been employed under him.

"No, Mr. Lord. I'm all yours."

"If we're going to just talk, you can call me Max." He says blushing, wondering if you'll accept. He always wondered how your voice would sound saying his name.

You smile giddily into the phone, feeling like a high schooler, "Okay…Max."

Hearing you say his name makes him smile. His name sounds so good coming from your lips, "Much better."

There's silence for a moment as you both rack your brain for something to talk about. You cave first, succumbing to your usual talk..work.

"So umm… how has the convention been?"

"Good! I think we will be very busy for the next few months." He says excitedly.

"I knew you'd do amazing, Max. I'm sure we'll be able to handle the new work just fine!"

Max let's out a soft sigh, reclining back in the office chair. The hand not holding the phone moves to unloosen the tie around his neck, suddenly feeling much too tight. He wants more…not just work out of you. He just needs to know if you want that too.

"Y/N… May I ask you something?"

"You may."

"Do you like me?"

"Well- of course I do…You're a very good boss, and a good man." It was an odd question. He was not one to ask for reassurance, always effortlessly pulling up a confident facade.

Max chuckles softly, deciding on a more direct approach. His usual tone subdued down to a tender voice, "Good enough to go on a date with?"

"Mr. Lord-"

"Max." He quickly cuts you off.

"Max. What- why are you asking me that?" Your face grew hot from embarrassment. Was he humiliating you? Did someone tell him in an effort to undermine you?

"When I get back I'd like to take you out to dinner." Max says bluntly.

You nearly choke- "T-to dinner?" You repeat nervously, certainly he doesn't mean…

"Yes…if you'll have me that is. It can just be as coworkers, but I would like to go on a date with you. If it is, you'd like to go out with me too? Maybe that new Italian place you were talking about?" He asks gently, preparing his heart for you to reject him.

You feel your heart race. He doesn't usually date his employees, does he? No- Raquel definitely would have told you if he dated people in the office.

"Maxwell, are you sure? You are feeling okay, right?" Maybe this big convention had been too much for him.

"Yes." He says without hesitation. "I've wanted to ask you out for a while." Max anxiously fiddles with the telephone cord. "Will you allow me to escort you to dinner?"

"I would like that…" you reply shyly, trying not to sound too eager. You bite your lip to keep from dramatically exclaiming. "I would really like that, Max."

Max smiles in the comfort of his hotel. His heart jumping with joy. "I look forward to it. Umm…could you write that into my schedule?"

You laugh aloud, you were still his secretary afterall. "Of course, Mr. Lord" you say teasingly. "Should I secure you a reservation as well?" You add smiling.

"Yes…" he says smiling "That would be very helpful. Choose whichever seating you most prefer… I'll have Raquel help set up the rest of it." He says bashfully. "Have to let some of it be a surprise. "

Your heart beats in anticipation of your date. Your mind too is already racing with the question of what to wear. "I'll do that first thing tomorrow…Max."

"Y/N" He repeats your name back to you, a flirty tone evident in his voice.

A sudden yawn escapes through your throat. "I'm sorry-" You continue, trying to explain yourself.

"It's okay, Mi Amor. You should go to bed." Max hushes sweetly into the receptor, his voice softer than you've ever heard before. "I'll call you and Raquel tomorrow, okay?"

You want to stay on the line. You want to talk to him all night, but your drooping eyelids betray you. "I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow. Not so late this time though, please?"

He laughs, "No, not so late. I'll call around lunch time."

You nod your head mindlessly, "Sounds good."

Max smiles to himself, enjoying this relaxed playful side of you. "Goodnight, Darling. Sleep well."

"Sleep tight, Max." You murmur into the phone, reluctantly hanging up.

Max clutches the phone to his chest, unbelieving what just unfolded. A smile growing on his face, eyes lighting up like a school boy. "Te gusto…" he murmurs into the empty room. 'You like me…' Max may not truly be a confident man. Nor half the lady's man he claims to be, but if he's gotten you- he can't be all that bad after all.

Tomorrow, you'll wake up and question if it was a dream. And when Raquel vehemently interrogates you about it, the reality of what you agreed to will hit you like a freight truck…But for now, you're more than happy to crawl back into bed and drift off dreaming about your handsome boss taking you out to a romantic dinner.

#Am writes #max lord x reader #max lord x GN!reader #maxwell lord fanfic #maxwell lord fanfiction #WW84 fanfiction #max lord

[wardenparker]

In the Heights, part 1

Maxwell Lord x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

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

******

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord

My Masterlist!

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

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Vi’s Rec Friday | Week 3

Another week of excellent fic recs! Thank you all again for submitting your recs and for sharing your love of others' work with me, and the tumblr-sphere!

Personal recommendations 💜 Personal recs but also suggested by y'all 🌸 Self-Rec because I'm a classy slut~ ♦️ My fics y'all Recc'd 🫠

Popping your Coke Cherry | Dieter Bravo x F!Reader | @hessofather

Oh Honey | Joel Miller x Reader (read the warnings) | @lincolndjarin 💜

Some Good Friend | Tim Rockford x Sex Worker!reader | @covetyou

Enjoy the Silence | Joel Miller x F!Reader | @strang3lov3

I'm swingin' blind and you're stunning me without any gloves | Dieter Bravo x F!Reader | @chronically-ghosted

Taungsday’s am I right? | Din Djarin x Reader x Tentacle Monster | By me! 🫠

Memories | Dieter Bravo x Reader | @bitchesuntitled

Seen | Javier Peña x F!Reader | @katareyoudrilling

Breakout | Boxing AU!Joel Miller x F!Reader | @the-ginger-hedge-witch

Frost on The Windows, Flowers on the Bed | Frankie Morales x F!Reader | @5oh5

Adrift with You | Frankie Morales x OFC!Jude | @morallyinept

Sing Fever to the form | Frankie Morales x F!Reader | @thelightsandtheroses-fics

The Pilot and His Girl | Frankie Morales x F!Reader | @avastrasposts

Send in the Clown | Clown!Dieter Bravo x Reader | @covetyou

#fic rec friday #fic rec #vi's fic recs #vi's fic rec friday #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #fanfic #joel miller #din djarin #dave york #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #ao3 fanfic #smut #Fluff #max lord #maxwell lord #Max phillips #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javi gutierrez #joel miller fanfiction #Tlou #narcos #ezra prospect #marcus pike #marcus moreno #x reader #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford

[daddy-dins-girl]

Kindred - Series Masterlist

Summary: You’ve nannied for your share of families including a lot of workaholic parents but never have you met anyone that runs themselves as ragged as Maxwell Lord seems to.

One night you decide to help Mr. Lord with a little stress relief, neither of you anticipating the feelings you'd discover for each other along the way.

Fandom: Wonder Woman 1984 Pairing: Maxwell Lord x f!Reader (Nanny) Status: Ongoing/WIP

Shoutout to @janaispunk for creating this gorgeous moodboard for me :)

Warnings: 🔞 18+MDNI. Explicit rating throughout. Light Dom/Sub elements (Sub!Maxwell obvi!). Specific warnings are labeled in each chapter.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

A03 link

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord fanfiction #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x f!reader #maxwell lord smut #pedro pascal cinematic universe #sub!maxwell lord #max lord #pedro pascal character fanfic #ppcu fanfiction #PPCU

[palioom]

anything you want

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

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

• masterlist •

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

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

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

Maxwell swallowed hard, closing his eyes.

Why had he said yes to this?

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

He was insane, but God, it felt good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, he had to earn that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I don’t.” She replied. 

Smiling up at him still, all innocent.

God, she was beautiful, even when she teased.

Maybe even more beautiful because she teased.

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

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

He squirmed at the name, craning his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn, he was close.

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

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

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

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

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

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

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

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

God, he sounded desperate. How adorable.

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

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

“You plead so nicely.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better, but-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost there, just a little more.

“Max- Please.”

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

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

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

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

Even he had to chuckle at that.

Reward.

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

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

“You sound so sweet when you beg me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How sweet he could beg.

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

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

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

“No.” 

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

A quiet laugh slipped past her lips.

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

“Darling, please-”

Yes, he was close, just as she was.

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

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

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

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

Trying to break free from the handcuffs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He only chuckled, pulling her closer.

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

It was different, but comforting.

“Sure, baby.”

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

“Anything you want, Maxwell.”

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

[flightlessangelwings]

If you’re looking for fics that are actually inclusive and not white washed??

Follow @inclusivepedrolibrary for inclusive fic recs, author recs, inclusivity resources, writing challenges and more to come!! 💖💖

#pedro pascal #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #frankie morales x reader #joel miller x reader #marcus pike x reader #marcus moreno x reader #dieter bravo x reader #dave york x reader #oberyn martell x reader #max phillips x reader #javier peña x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #pero tovar x reader #agent whiskey x reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #comandante veracruz x reader #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #Pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal fanfiction

[muldermuse]

Muldermuse Masterlist

Fox Mulder Masterlist

Two Sinners (Gator Tillman x F!Reader) Masterlist

Pedro Pascal Characters X Reader: Headcanons

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

Being Maxwell’s personal assistant 

Javi Gutierrez nsfw thoughts

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

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2022: October 28th

Day 28: Flogging // Watersports // Body Swap

Max Lord x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: BDSM, sex work, sex clubs, safe words, restraints, flogging, masturbation

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

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

You recognize your next client. You aren’t supposed to, not with the Sun In now dyed out of his hair, you assume the darker color to be his natural one. The boxy power suit that he had been so prominently featured in on the news reels traded for a track suit. Golden pinkie ring missing and the general cocky demeanor stripped away from the once famous - now infamous - Max Lord. 

His eyes are furtive, darting around nervously as the loud music plays in the back, echoing into the front check in area. The unassuming building would never be taken for a sex club, which is exactly what the owners wanted. Not wanting to overtly advertise that they were catering to some of the more…discerning appetites of the elite. You can only get in if you have a card, if a member gives you one. 

“Good evening sir, how may I fulfill your desires this evening?” You purr, making sure your tits are pushed up high as you walk around the small counter. His eyes widen as he takes in the very provocative leather and latex outfit you are squeezed into, the spiky heels that look as if they can pierce skin. They can - if you need them to. 

Max gulps, grunting as he starts patting his pockets to look for the card that he had been given. “Shit.” He huffs, relaxing slightly when he feels the sharp edge of the card in his pocket and shoves his hand into it to pull out the gold leaf embossed cardstock. The logo of the club on the front large on the front with a tiny address written on the back. Discreet. “I was- uh, given this by Charlie.” He explains, less assertive than you had seen on TV. Although he had tumbled pretty far from grace since his Black Gold commercials. 

“I see.” You smile as you accept the card, looking down at it for a moment and then back up into his unsure amber eyes. You see the mixture of defeat and defiance in his gaze, as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Which, you’re sure he was at one point during the entire incident last year. The details that were released to the public were still a bit confusing. The small number on the left hand side belonged to Charles Hammerich, a very prominent member who you have had several scenes with. 

Max shuffles slightly and introduces himself quietly, like you don’t know who he is. Although you don’t react to his name or let on that you know him. In this club, they were guaranteed privacy. Their kinks, preferences, stature, was no one's business. It wasn’t your job to judge him, it was your job to give him what he wanted, maybe even what he needed. “Charlie told me- he told me that you helped him relax.” His eyes widen slightly as if there was some special meaning behind that particular phrase. 

All of the scenes with Charlie have been where you were in the position of power. Oftentimes where he was in restraints and normally there was some kind of impact play in the scene. You wonder if you will have to pull what Max wants out of him or if he will volunteer the information. Often, new members or guests were hesitant in voicing their wants even though it was your job, your pleasure, to provide it to them. 

“Yes.” You nod in agreement. “I help Charlie relax often. How can I help you relax, Mr. Lord.” 

He looks away, his eyes drifting towards the doorway that leads back to the plush, private rooms where the scenes are played out. “I- there’s something that I want. I - uh, it’s not- I-” He stammers slightly, almost unable to articulate what he is here for. 

“Would you like to see the room?” You ask, watching his eyes snap back to you with gratitude. 

“Yes.” His shoulders straighten and he nods. “I- lead the way.” 

You are aware that his eyes are firmly on your ass as you guide him through the hallway down to the room that you will use for him today. The toys are clean and neatly lined up on shelves. Hooks for the whips and floggers, cuffs and paddles all lined up, for easy perusal and access. Waving your hand towards the wall, you invite him to look his fill. “These are everything that is available, if there is something that you want that you don’t see, let me know.” 

You watch as he examines each and every one of the toys. His fingers reach out for the leather braided flogger that is a personal favorite of yours. You hum quietly, happy that your intuition for what Max Lord would want would be accurate. “This.” He decides, turning and looking at you with a hopeful plea in his eyes. 

“Good choice, Mr. Lord.” 

**** He looks good, stretches out in the rack. Stripped down and secured to each point on the steel pipes above and below him. The cuffs that he had chosen were softer, not going to leave a mark unless he pulls too hard. It was often the choice for powerful men who didn’t want anyone to know that they need to give up power to you. 

His cock is half hard and you haven’t even touched him yet. Safe word firmly established and you’ve made him repeat it several times to make sure that it’s firmly embedded into his mind before you start. 

There is a shiver that runs down his spine as you caress his skin with the braided leather falls, using them like you would your fingers. The small grunt that he lets out is needy, eyes slipping closed. He agreed that as soon as the last cuff was closed around his wrist that you were in charge. He wasn’t to ask or beg for anything. You’re in control of the scene was complete beyond his use of the safe word or using the light system. 

“Is this what you need?” You coo softly, running the tails up and down his back, watching the skin tremble and pimple in goosed flesh. Not giving him a chance to respond, you flick your wrist and with a snap of leather, Max cries out. 

You check with him, making sure that he is fine. That it is what he is looking for. It’s your scene but you are learning what his tolerance is, right along with Max. He isn’t quite sure what he can endure just yet. Once he reaffirms that he is ready to continue, you draw you hand back again. 

Each cry gets louder, equallying the force that you put behind the flogger. It’s a misconception that you have to beat someone to get a reaction but that isn’t true. You don’t have to break skin to flog someone properly. The correct placement of the tails can bring just as much of a sweet sting as the harshest whip. He does like the additional force though. 

Flick after flick starts to darken his skin, heating it up and making him flinch and hiss after his cries. Fists clenched around the bars, holding on to them while you continue to flog him. Strike after strike placed on his back, ass, thighs, all areas that were discussed by the two of you. His whine makes you pause, walking around him to look in his eyes. 

“Do you want to stop?” You ask quietly, your eyes fixed on his. Watching carefully as he pants. His cock is stiff, rock hard and leaking where it bobs as his chest heaves. Looking like he is about to cum within the next few strikes of the flogger against his flesh. 

“N-no.” He shakes his head, rolling his head up and groaning softly. “I- ten more.” He begs, knowing that you have a maximum number of licks you will give during this first scene. Some wanted to jump all in, taking on too much without accounting for how sore he will be tomorrow. It was your job to curb that impulse. 

“Five.” You hum, making him whimper as you grip his chin and press your lips to his softly. His mouth chases yours as you pull back. “Count them for me.” You order as you step back around and lift the flogger up. 

“O-One!” He gasps, back arching when you bring the tails down. Humming, you wait for his body to relax before you strike again. 

“Two- fuck!” His voice creeps up a little higher, rocking up onto the balls of his feet as much as he can. 

This next lick lands on his ass, making him cry out. “Shi- Th-reeeee.” You pause waiting to see if you would hear his safe word, but all you hear is his whining. 

“Four! Fuck, four, four.” You can sense that he is near his limit, panting heavily and there is a note of a sob in his voice. Your let the leather brush his skin his whimper is magical. 

“One more, you’re doing so good.” You praise him, making him sigh and take a deep breath. 

The last flick of your wrist is the harshest, making him cry out and a broken gasp is all you hear instead of a number. 

Dropping the flogger to your side, you walk back around to face him, reaching up and stroking his face with the hanging loop and butt. His eyes are heavy and they slide closed when you reach down with your other hand and wrap it around his cock. 

“You did so good for me, so good, pretty boy.” You coo, making him moan when you start to slowly stroke him. “You took it so well, so I’m going to reward you, hmm? You want to cum? You want to cum all over me while you ride out your high?” 

Max whimpers, nodding drunkenly and his hips try to ruck forward but your wrist twists and the pumps of his cock makes him cum. 

It’s beautiful. The force of his cum makes the spurts hit your leather corset. His strangled cry loud and almost pained but the most exquisite look of pleasure is riding over his face while he cums. Making him sag against the restraints, completely given out by the scene. 

Now that the scene is over, you will let him out of the restraints, spread a cool gel over his back, thighs and ass and care for him like he needs to be after such an intense session. Flogging isn’t for the faint of heart, but it seemed like Max Lord had enjoyed it. Especially as he moans about how he wants more. 

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #pedro pascal #max lord #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x f!reader #maxwell lord smut #maxwell lord imagine #maxwell lord fanfic #max lord x f!reader #max lord x reader #max lord x you #max lord smut #max lord fanfic #max lord imagine

[morallyinept]

As much as I enjoy writing, one of the things I enjoy most of all about being in this fandom, is reading all the incredible works by all of YOU.

So, in the spirit of sharing, and singing your praise from the rooftops, once a week I'm going to feature a writer whose work is just incredible, who makes me smile, and who you should totally check out. 🖤

Please ensure you follow them (if you're not already) and re-blog their work. I am pretty sure you're going to love it, and them!

Please check out my Pedro Character Fav Fic Recs List for more incredible writers and their stories too.

So without further ado, here is this week's Writer Wow! ⭐️

⭐️ @ghostofaboy ⭐️

I'm so in love with the way Ghostie (affectionate moniker I've bestowed on him - you can't escape it now, dude 😘) writes, and I feel like I am transported into the scene and feel everything. There aren't enough M!Reader writers in this fandom, but of the ones I've found (and I do enjoy all their work so much!), Ghostie really knocks it out of the park, in my opinion. His stories are so compelling and really capture your attention, and it's wonderful to read these characters from a male perspective. Not to mention, he's a total sweetheart too.

Some of my personal favourites from Ghostie's writing are:

⭐️ Rock Bottom Series - Frankie Morales

⭐️ Honey Pot - Agent Whiskey

⭐️ Dancing With Myself - Maxwell Lord

⭐️ Camming - Ezra

Please also check out Ghostie's Full Masterlist for more amazing stories!

☝🏻Give him a follow so you don't miss out on future stories. You won't be disappointed.

Check out previous Writer Wows here

🖤

#jett's writer wow #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #frankie morales #agent whiskey #maxwell lord #ezra prospect #amazing writers #fanfic writer #writing community #just showing some love

[simpingcowboy]

"Why Did You Do It?"

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x GN!Reader, established relationship

Warnings: Angst, mentions of systems of oppression

Word Count: 600~ ficlet

Summary: Years after the events of WW84. You ask your boyfriend Maxwell Lord why he became the dreamstone and threw the world into chaos.

Author's Note: I love Maxwell, and wanna send him to therapy so badly. Until then, we'll get some nice talking it out with a romantic partner instead. 

"Max…why did you do it?"

     You'd never asked him before. It was long a thing of the past. Something you inevitably always knew about him. Something most everyone who saw the broadcast that day knew him by. You never felt compelled to ask. The answer was obvious enough. It was the same fate that engulfed a world of people into its grasp. Greed.

     Even now, it lingers. A horrible reminder of the worst of mankind. Of the terrible greed that rots us all from the inside out. A haunting image with your now partner, Maxwell Lord being the terrible poster child to. The visual of him sick and decaying on your TV screen still carved into the terrible recesses of your mind. 

     Most of the world saw him as a real life monster, who came to throw the world into chaos. Many never forgave him. You never thought you would either. Let alone end up falling in love with him. How could you ever love someone so evil so corrupted. Yet, here he sat. Your partner of several years. Opposite of you on the couch in your shared apartment. 

     Warm brown hair messy from a day's work. Work shirt halfway unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. His stiff work pants swapped out for comfortable blue jeans. Tracing further down his body, mismatched socks cover his feet. He was just a man. So far from the monster you once believed him to be.

"Max…why did you do it?"

Max shifts his attention over to you. Shuffling his position on the couch to face you. 

"What did you say, Mi Amor?"

"Maxwell. Why did you do it?"

He knows what you're asking.

     In your time together you'd never asked, he hoped you never would. He has long crafted an automated response, for all the strangers that came up and asked. For all the press speeches and public apologies he made. A perfect response that held him accountable while still playing on others sympathies. After all, most of the world has collaborated in his efforts and were they not just as guilty as him? But he knew that wasn't enough for you. You needed- no deserved more than that. You deserved the truth. Max only hoped you'd be understanding. 

     Max let's out a soft sigh as he presses himself against the couch letting his whole body relax. His head rolls back along the edge of the couch and he lazily closes his eyes.

"It was never about money…or power…or even greed." 

     He opens his eyes briefly to catch your initial response before closing them tightly again.

 He couldn't face you and the truth simultaneously. 

"I wanted to be someone. I wanted people to think I was worth something… No one even looked at me. I was a poor immigrant. I was nobody. I just wanted to be respected…I wanted to be treated like everyone else. I wanted my son to be treated like everyone else. Money and power…were just the easiest way to get that."

Max exhales dramatically. The metaphysical sin no longer feeling nearly as heavy. 

"That is why. Mi Vida." He reiterates as he opens his eyes back up to look at you, devastation and desperation cloud his gaze. "And I- I do not think I am so bad for that", a silent tear escapes Max and races down his cheek. 

"Maxwell" you say in a hushed tone as you reach out to take his tear stricken cheek in your hand "I love you" and you do. You love Max Lord. The face of greed, the minister of evil, the man who was once the dream stone itself. But you also love Maxwell Lorenzo the man who loved his son and just like any parent was so desperate to make the world a better place for his child. Maxwell Lord was not a bad man. Nor a particularly good one. He was just a man lost in the world, always trying to make a way for himself. 

"I love you." You repeat as more tears fall. Max pulls you into him as he begins to weep into your chest. 

"I love you…

I love you Maxwell."

#I love Maxie so much ;-; #ww84 #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord #maxwell lord fanfic #max lord #pedro pascal character fanfiction #max lord x reader #Am writes

[pintsizemama]

Blizzard

Day 29

Summary: You get stuck at Maxwell’s after Christmas.

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

Fandom: Marvel & DC

Rating: Mature

Warnings: language, pining

Word Count: 697

Little Stark Masterlist

Day 28 Day 30 Christmas Masterlist Main Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

Maxwell watched you napping on his sofa. You were so goddamn gorgeous. He had kept his word on Christmas Eve and had been the perfect gentleman. It had been a fantastic night. He was utterly charmed by you. His own charm must have worked on you as well, because you had agreed to stay the night. He couldn’t remember the last time he spent Christmas with someone. It was really nice having you here to share the holiday.

Unfortunately—well, actually very fortunately for him—a blizzard blew in late Christmas afternoon. You had no choice but to stay another night, then another, and another. The storm was still going strong, and Maxwell wished it would never end. The last few days had been bliss. You’d both agreed on a temporary truce. The storm, combined with the isolation of the penthouse, made you both feel as if you were the only two people on earth. Walls had come down, and you were getting to know each other. Maxwell was pretty sure he still pissed you off, but you were warming up to him. And he was more enamored with you than he had ever been.

It drove him insane that his power did not work on you, and he really wanted to know why. He had never had to work so hard to make a woman interested in him. While he never used his gifts to attract women—he found it morally repugnant to coerce a woman into his bed—women usually threw themselves at him. Between his good looks, money, charm, and intelligence, he never had trouble finding a bedmate. You were completely unfazed by all of it. Considering the company you usually kept and the fact that you yourself were also beautiful, rich, charming, and intelligent he wasn’t surprised you were unimpressed by him. He had to actually try with you. Something he was entirely unfamiliar with. He noticed you stirring slightly on the couch, and he walked forward to sit. You blinked before your gaze landed on him. You gave him a beautiful, sleepy smile, and he felt his heart flip.

“How long was I asleep?” You asked in a raspy voice.

“A few hours,” he replied. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“Wow,” you said softly. “I don’t usually sleep well.”

“My couch is very comfortable,” Maxwell said with a shrug. He saw something on your face he didn’t quite understand…as if the deep peaceful sleep you just experienced was rare.

“It’s still coming down out there, huh?” You murmured as you looked out the window.

“Yes,” Max answered. “It should clear up in a day or so.”

“Oh, that’s good,” you said. The slight furrow in your brow puzzled him. You looked almost disappointed. He hoped that was the case. He enjoyed having you in his space.

“We have a lot of work to catch up on,” you said.

“Not really,” he countered. “Most of my staff—and yours—has this week off.”

“Well, I usually work through the end of the year,” you replied.

“You work too much, Maggie,” he said. It was a bit hypocritical coming from him since he was also a workaholic, but he hated to see you run yourself down.

“I like working,” you said, jutting your chin out defiantly.

“I know. But you are allowed to have some fun too.”

“I have fun,” you argued petulantly.

“When?” You racked your brain. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had fun.

“It’s been a while,” you answered honestly.

“Then just relax,” he insisted. “There is literally nowhere for you to go, so enjoy the downtime while you can.” You looked at him a long moment, and he wondered what you were thinking. Finally you nodded.

“Good,” he said with a smile. “Now, about that fun. I have a bowling alley—it’s small, just two lanes.” he cut in when he saw the look you shot him. “So, what do you say, Miss Stark? Think you can beat me?” He saw the glimmer in your eye and knew he had you.

“I’m gonna kick your ass Mr. Lord.”

“I look forward to it,” he said with a grin.

Day 30

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Taglist:

@alexxavicry @amneris21 @awhitewyvern @burrito-stuffs @dreedhudson @greeneyedblondie44 @harriedandharassed @hayley-the-comet @hnt-escape @holb32 @just-here-for-the-moment @kirsteng42 @lizette50 @loompyinaway @maxwell--lord @mishasminion360 @mswarriorbabe80 @my-sweetheart1776 @peach-child @pedrostories @sherala007 @xocalliexo @avidreader73 @chxosunbound @emilianamason @mendes-bae @nobody @wakaladjarin @wildmoonflower @christinamadsen

#christmas writing challenge #pedro pascal #fluff #maxwell lord #marvel #dceu #marvel dc crossover #little stark #tony stark sister #maxwell lord x female reader #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord fic #maxwell lord fanfiction #maxwell lord fanfic #wonder woman 1984

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Kinktober 2022

Summary: Max and you had been married for 12 years but after stressful years in his company that left you, frankly a little neglected you decide it's time to spice things up, hacking into his outlook calendar to make sure he had time for you every single day through out October.

Pairing: Modern!Maxwell Lord x Wife!Reader

total wordcount: 19.3k

A/N: I can't believe I'm doing this. Thank you to @absurdthirst for the absolute wonderful kinky promptlist 💜

Follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics to get notified for for update. I will not be using my taglist on this.

Prologue

1. Shibari

2. Gagging

3. Wax Play

4. Biting

5. Formal Wear

6. Underwear

7. Shower Sex 

8. Begging

9. Anal

10. Age Play

11. Spanking

12. Cock Warming

13. Object Insertion

14. Glory Hole 

15. Face Sitting 

16. Double Penetration

17. Pussy Slapping

18. Pegging 

19. Somnophilia

20. Drunk Sex

21. Breeding

22. Sex Pollen

23. Erotic Dancing

24. Ass Worship

25. Mirror Sex

26. Costumes

27. Infidelity

28. Flogging 

29. Exhibitionism

30. Public Sex

31. Morning Sex

Epilogue

#kinktober 2022 #my fic #maxwell lord #Maxwell lord x fem. reader #Pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #drabble #prompt

[wardenparker]

In the Heights, part 2

Maxwell Lord x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.1k   Warnings: Domestic fantasies/fluff, friends to lovers, Alistair being adorable, food/alcohol mentions, cursing. Fingering, vaginal sex, protected sex, praise/worship. Summary: Your relationship with Max grows quickly after that fateful night. Notes: Part 2 of 2! Max deserves nice things, too, and I will not apologize for that 💖 Again, apologies for any missed typos or the like. I'm still on a buttload of cold medicine. Thanks for reading!

Max’s heart is in his throat as he takes your hand to lead you to his bedroom. The last woman he had kissed had been Barbra, and it hadn’t been under the most honest of circumstances. The last woman he had slept with? Well, he didn’t want to admit to that.

Your identical apartments make it easy to navigate in the darkness of night, as Max flips off each switch as you follow the hall to the master bedroom. “It’s okay.” You murmur quietly, convinced that this time you did see his hand shake as he shut off the light. “I’m nervous, too.”

“It– it has been a long time for me.” He admits quietly, trying not to let himself feel guilty for not being a more accomplished lover.

“For me, too.” The last light is the one in his bedroom and that one is flipped on instead of off, letting him see you smile softly. “We don’t have to do anything tonight if it’s too much. We can just lay in bed and talk and maybe have a kiss goodnight, if that’s what you want.”

“I think we would both be disappointed.” Max squeezes your hand and shakes his head. “I think we have waited long enough, no?” If you changed your mind, he would respect that, but he wants to touch you.

“Oh, definitely.” Your fingers lace through his and your smile turns beaming. “I was just trying to be considerate.”

Instead of saying something, Max steps closer to you and leans in, dropping his lips onto yours. Starting another kiss that makes his toes curl and his cock twitch.Wiping hesitation from your mind, your back bends to accommodate the kiss, welcoming him closer and bringing him tight against you with one arm. The other hand grasps blindly for his door knob to give you both privacy. When the door clicks shut, he pushes you against it. Pressing against you while he gropes for the lock. His other hand on the back of your neck as his tongue slides into your mouth.

The whimper it earns him is deep, coming up from somewhere in the vicinity of your toes and rolling along your spine until your whole body is on fire with wanting. Sliding your tongue along his is like a long-awaited homecoming and you swallow each other’s moans eagerly. Maybe it’s been a while for both of you, but that possibly only makes you all the more enthusiastic.

It feels amazing, holding you close and feeling like he isn’t going to be pushed away and rebuked. Or feel like he hadn’t measured up.

Your fingers are faster than your mind, finding the buttons on his shirt before you can even have the conscious thought of wanting him naked. The fact that that is even a possibility makes you feel like you're about to burst – and makes your hands work even faster.

Max cannot even fathom the luck he must have for this to be possible. His hands ghost up and down your sides before he starts to unbutton your own blouse. “Hermosa.”

Fumbling fingers seem not to care all that much for focus – knowing their task but going about it clumsily as the taste of his lips and the glide of his tongue prove more intoxicating than any drink you could possibly have had at the bar. When the last button on Max’s shirt is finally open you groan in frustration to find another layer underneath – the man wearing a proper undershirt even in the summer heat - and you nudge him back from the door to the bed. “It’s coming off,” you insist, pushing the short-sleeved button up off his shoulders. “Every stitch of it.”

He hums, slightly shuddering when he feels your fingers on his bare shoulder. He should be self conscious, wondering if he is too soft, too hard, too tan for you, but none of those concerns seem to materialize. Not when you look at him like he is a god. Your bra is pretty, practical and when he sees the white lace, it thrills him and his hands come up to cup the weight, feeling it in his hands with a loud groan. "You too, I want– I want to see all of you." He admits breathlessly. "Touch all of you."

"You can." All of you. To hear him shake with the words like they're some kind of gift is so gratifying, and you reach back to undo your bra and cast it aside as easily as breathing. If he wants all of you? He can have every inch. A part of you truly always has been his anyway.

Max has always liked breasts, the sight and feel of them wonderful in his hands or when he noticed a woman’s cleavage. He wasn’t a cad, he didn’t leer, but he is close to leering now. Hands hovering over your skin now that it is bare and feeling the heat radiating off your skin. “Beautiful.” He praises softly. “Perfection.”

Your laugh is so soft that he almost misses it, but the smile on your lips is unmistakable when you step forward to press your breasts into his open, tentative hands. "They're better if you actually touch them."

Max groans and shakes his head, only slightly embarrassed by his near frozen reaction to your bare breasts. “You are teasing me, but I do not mind.” He declares, squeezing them gently before brushing his palms over your nipples.

The truth is that you wouldn't tease him if you didn't find it so endearing, but the explanation is wiped from your mind the second he brushes the hard peaks of your nipples, making you moan. He can explore all he likes - take all night finding out what each of your favorite places to be touched is - but he's damn well going to be naked doing it and your own hands reach for his belt again eagerly.

It had been a long time since someone touched him so eagerly. Genji was as inexperienced as he was, and after a while, her eagerness waned when he proved his attention was elsewhere. Chasing the unattainable.

His legs hit the bed frame first, backs of his knees buckling when he nearly topples over, but his belt hits the floor well before that can happen. That sound - metal clicking on metal and leather thudding on the rug - seems to release all inhibitions. The slow and methodical undressing is instantly over, and you lean forward to claim his lips in a frantic renewed kiss as clothing flies in every direction.

The slacks you are wearing confuse him for a moment, making him growl into your mouth. Why are they zippered on the side of your waist? The kisses don’t break as he fumbles and finally gets the damn things undone without just ripping the pants, although the worst thing would have been if he had tried and failed to rip your clothes off of you. Pushing them down desperately before nearly crying out in pleasure when your hand wraps around his cock.

Your own groan is lower than his, feeling the heft and thickness of him in your hand and luxuriating in the fact that you're actually here with him. "Can't wake Alistair," you remind him between shallow breaths, the sound catching in your throat when you feel his fingers tentatively catch at the dripping entrance of your pussy. "Fuck Max."

“Say that again.” He begs, turning you both so that you roll over onto your back and he is hovering over you. His eyes burn with need as his fingers begin a slow, measured tour around your entrance and up through your folds. Wanting to learn what makes you say his name just like that, so he can do it every time he touches you.

"Fucking hell." He's slowed his pace again, watching every minute expression on your face, and you have to wonder if this is some kind of study he's made of you on other things or if he just desperately wants to hear his name from your lips again. Either way, it slips from you as easily as breathing when two of his fingers slide into your entrance. Your eyes widen and your fingernails dig into his shoulder but "Max!" is clear and desperate as you writhe beneath him.

It’s been so long since Max has held this kind of control. Over himself, over someone else, and he loves it. The groan from the hot clutch of your pussy rubbles out of his throat, several octaves deeper than normal and he curls his fingers up as he pushes them deep. Eager to see how you enjoy the thickness of his digits.

"Fuck–fuck." You might have been the one that reminded him to be quiet but that doesn't mean you aren't going to let him know exactly what he does to you. You spread your legs wider instinctively. He may only have two fingers inside you but it feels like more from how thick they are. All of him is thick, cock included, but you lost your grip on him when he rolled you over and now you're swimming in pleasure. "More," you beg brokenly, hips moving like they have a mind of their own.

He nods even though your eyes are closed. Leaning in and kissing along your shoulder and neck as he slowly starts to push his fingers in and out of your tight cunt. “Te amo, mi amor.” He hasn’t tried to use his native tongue in so long, it feels rusty, foreign in his mouth, although those words seem to come straight from his battered heart.

"Te amo." As easy and honest as the words are, they fill you up and wash over you with a warmth that you can't possibly describe. The crashing of that emotion over your heart is as earnest as the roll of your hips against his hand, and the fingers of one hand come up to thread through his hair and encourage his mouth to explore your body. "Siempre, mi amor." Always.

His kisses scatter over your skin, although he feels the slight pressure of your hand. He lets you guide him, finger still pumping into you easily as he opens you up more, pressing deeper every time your hips roll down. Kissing across your breast, he moans as he takes your nipple into his mouth.

The chain reaction through your body is almost immediate - back arching off the bed, toes curling, and mouth opening to let out the deepest and most indulgent moan that reverberates through the room. The pace of his fingers is perfect, the wet heat of his mouth on your chest making you feel like you might short circuit before he's even inside you. "Just like that," you sigh out, hips rolling down to meet his hand on every stroke. "Oh fuck–fuck– 'm so close baby."

He groans around the stiff peak of your nipple and grazes it with his teeth. Enjoying the way your pussy clenches down around him wildly now. “Cum for me, amor.” He rasps out, sucking on your tit again after managing those words and watching your face intently.

To hear those words from him is something of a miracle, and one that you don't think you will stop being grateful for no matter how many times you hear it. There is no reason to hold back, no propriety you have to obey, only pleasure. Only his voice begging you to flood his hand with liquid heat and bring you that much closer together. It's an incredible thing, to find yourself chasing your peak on his fingers, and your hips take on an erratic speed as you do just that. Uneven breaths become a shuddering gasp in mere minutes and your entire body seems to seize as it bares down on him, that gorgeous tingling in your spine and belly bursting as when you moan his name just the moment before you start to cum.

Besides the moment he held Alistair, this has to be the most beautiful moment of Max’s life. Throbbing against your hip, he swears he could cum himself as he feels your pleasure fill his hand and coat his fingers in a liquid rush of heat. Making him moan your name as your hips jerk in pleasure.

"Max." His name comes in pants as you float back to earth, but your whines are from blissed out pleasure and not a single damn thing else. "Do you—" Thoughts and movements aren't quite lining up, as you point to the bedside table but duck your head to steal a kiss. "Condoms?”

Thanking God that you had thought about that, for Max surely hadn’t, he presses kiss after kiss to your lips and he reluctantly pulls his fingers free from your warmth so he can fumble with the drawer. He had bought some long ago, but it wasn’t like he was using them. Hopefully they were still in date.

You would have sprinted back across the hall to get some from your own room if you had to, but luckily Max comes away from the drawer with a foil packet in his hand. “Perfect,” you hum, still catching your breath as you reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock one more time.

“Shit.” Max hisses, his entire body shuddering from the touch and he can’t help but rock his hips forward. “I don’t– I don’t know how much I will please you.” He confesses quietly. “It has been a long time since I’ve been with someone.”

“Amor…” your free hand cups his cheek, thumb gently running along his jawline to coax him open for a sweet kiss. “I am not suggesting we train for Olympic medals in stamina tonight. I just… I only want to feel you.”

He is comforted by that, hating when he feels inferior as he so often does. “I want to make sure that you enjoy yourself.” He bites his lip and leans in to kiss you again.

If you could, you would promise him you aren’t worried about that. At all. But you’re too busy moaning into his kiss for any words to be coherent. Instead you hitch your leg up on his hip, encouraging him to fill that so e between you — and inside you.

He has to break the kiss, needing to open the packet and roll the protection down his length so that he can finally make love to you. He’s already sweating when he hovers over you on his knees, looking down at you spread out in invitation and he groans softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You have for so many years that it feels like taking a deep breath to finally say so. It feels like bursting, and you don’t mind admitting it in the least.

He moves slowly, savoring the moment as he presses close and starts to break you open on his cock. Rocking forward as he tries to keep his weight off you and kiss you gently.

It’s a big feeling for such a gentle movement. As a grown man, every part of Max is thick. It’s a departure from the lanky, rail thin boy he once was, and this version of him surrounds and fills you in a way you hadn’t expected. He blocks the whole world out – and becomes your whole world. Although you have to admit, as your mouth falls open on a drawn on, bliss filled moan, a part of him always has been.

He’s overwhelmed and groaning with you. It’s the closest to heaven that he’s ever been. His eyes flutter as he continues to stretch you out until he is full seated and panting.

“Need you to move, baby.” As good as he feels fully seated inside you, you have no doubt that it will feel twice as amazing with the friction building in your cunt.

“Okay.” He grunts out, nodding quickly and his hand curls into a fist as he pulls his hips back. Hating pulling out of you, as you are so tight and hot.

“Oh fuck—” As soon as he draws back the wave of pleasure rippling through your body gets stronger, and you whine on the next thrust forward. Your body is aching with wanting him, no part of you more desperate than your grasping pussy.

He rolls his hips forward with slow, determined purpose. His fist is curled still, teeth clenched together as he tries to hold himself back. Wanting to last in this perfect moment for as long as he can. “B–beauti–ful.” He groans.

Wandering hands map his body, committing the peaks and valleys of him to memory. Taking all of him in as you set a slow but steady pace together that promises to be the first of many nights like this. There is no questioning that fact, and you commit yourself to deep kisses and the feeling of home in being in his bed. There is not a moment of this night that isn’t perfect in all its imperfect glory.

Soft grunts and groans accompany every thrust. Barely keeping it together and pushing for more, Max feels like this is probably the pinnacle of his life. Nothing could get better than this. You love him, you want him, your body soft and pliant under his tells him that. Every wordless praise being moaned into his ear makes him stronger.

Giving yourself over to the moment means losing track of everything else. All that matters is the feeling of Max above you - bending your knees back, angling your hips just so, mouthing at your breasts and neck and jaw in alternation with drowning kisses. He surrounds you fully, building you up toward another undeniable peak.

“Please.” His groan is almost a prayer, chanted into your skin as he works you both towards that goal. Hoping he is dragging you along as he tries to touch and feel every part of you. His fingers find your clit as he pushes a hand between you to fumble inelegantly for a moment before he finds the right spot.

"Max–fuck–" Your hips buck when his fingers skate over your clit, legs shaking at the intensity and sensitivity in that nub as you sprint closer to a second orgasm. "So good, baby, you fuck me so good and I'm so close."

He moans, eyes closed as he absorbs the praise, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts to give you that extra sensation. “Wanna feel you amor.” He rasps out next to your ear. “Cum for me.”

For your entire adult life (plus a few years) you would have given anything to hear his voice dip and purr like that. You’ve imagined it so many times that it almost feels surreal. But hearing it for real - close to your ear and punctuated with labored pants and groans all his own - the effect is almost instant. Your body shakes apart at the seams, washing your mind away on a sea of pleasure and letting a torrent of praises loose with his name. If you could fuse the two of you together body and soul, this would be the moment it happened, but as it is you’ll just have to settle for giving him those last pieces of your heart and trusting him to keep them safe.

Choking out an inhuman sound, Max tries to keep from cumming. It’s like trying to hold back an avalanche with a snowboard. Jerking to a stop halfway through a thrust, he slams his hips forward and buries himself in the spasming confines of your body and whimpers your name as his world comes apart at the seams.

His bedroom had been so full of sound only seconds ago, but it quiets to heavy breathing and a few shaky moans after he collapses on top of you, sticky seed collected harmlessly in the condom for tonight. Sometime later you’ll address the keen burst of wishing he had painted your womb with it instead. That is a thought for another day. For now you dust his face and shoulders in kisses and hold him close, cradling his bulk on top of you like a precious treasure.

“Fuck.” Max pants, unable to move off of you even if he knows he is heavy. “That- please tell me you enjoyed it.” He begs, wanting to know that he didn’t disappoint you.

“Baby.” You giggle, unable to keep even false admonishment in your tone. “You’re amazing.”

He sighs in relief, the weight off his mind and he groans as he shifts off of you, hating that he has to pull out. He could sleep inside you. “Good. That is good.”

The two of you roll to your sides, letting go of each other only long enough for him to toss the tied-off condom in the bin by the bed before he turns back to you. “Is it…okay if I stay the night?” At the moment you’re not quite sure you could manage to walk back across the hall, but if he doesn’t want Alistair to ask questions or have any hint of things you’ll respect that fully.

“You want to- of course.” He nods, grinning eagerly as he strides back over and then stops quickly. “Let me get you water.” He decides. “You need it. And some aspirin. I’ll be right back.”

“You need it, too,” you remind him. He was right there beside you at the bar tonight, after all.

He doesn’t put on his underwear because he knows Alistair won’t wake up. He is a very deep sleeper when he finally drifts off.

Max reemerges a few minutes later with a bottle of aspirin and two glasses of water and you grin at him from your place in his bed. “So…” you giggle again quietly. “This happened…”

“This happened.” He can’t help but grin again, glancing down at his flaccid cock and soft belly. “No regrets?”

“Never,” you promise him.

He smiles, slightly self conscious and slips into the bed beside you. “Do you mind if I set an alarm?” He asks, hoping he doesn’t offend you. “I want to be up before Alistair is.” He explains.

“Of course.” The last thing he wants is to surprise his little boy with something so huge and you completely understand that. “I can…go back across the hall? If you want? It's up to you how much he knows or how soon.”

“No.” He is frowning and shaking his head as he slides his arm around you to pull you close. “I don’t want that. I just want to make sure that we tell him, not him discovering us together.”

“You want to tell him right away?” The only other man you had ever dated with a child had insisted on waiting more than six months to tell his little girl, and while you had understood it had made you feel a little bit like a dirty secret. “I—I mean, if that’s what you want, I’m all for it. I just didn’t expect it.”

“I don’t mind telling Alistair.” He frowns slightly. “I think we should. I just want to make sure he understands that dating someone and being in a relationship with them includes respect.”

“Then we’ll tell him tomorrow.” You snuggle into his side, grinning like a maniac. “He’ll probably be thrilled to spend more time with the cat.”

Max snorts and tugs you slightly closer, enjoying the weight and warmth of you on him. “Probably ask you to move in with the cat.”

“One day.” The thought makes you hum happily as he pulls you in. “Maybe not right away.”

“Make sure you actually want to put up with me before that.” He cautions. “Things have changed since we were children.”

“Who knows?” He’s right, but you know in your heart that nothing has changed so much that you don’t still love him. The man who made those mistakes is not the man he truly is. “I might have things about me that you don’t want to put up with.”

"I don't care if you squeeze the toothpaste from the middle or if you snore." Max huffs, rolling his eyes. "You have always been someone I have loved and admired."

“I might snore,” you admit, tucking into his side a little deeper and grinning. “It’s been a long time since anyone was in a position to tell me.”

He hums, and curls himself around you a little tighter. "I'll tell you." He promises with a small laugh.

“Max?” With the light out and him curled around you, the urge to sleep is coming on strong.

"What is it, amor?" He keeps his voice soft, rubbing your back gently.

The honorific makes you smile, lips upturned against his chest. “I’m glad you came out with us tonight.”

"Me too." He can only be grateful that he came out, smiling as he holds you in his arms. "Me too."

******

Without the alarm you definitely would have overslept, too comfortable in each other’s arms to want to move anywhere too fast. But because it was set, you're up and making pancakes when Alistair wakes up, happily sipping a cup of coffee with the radio playing quietly in the other room while Max makes bacon beside you.

"Do you like your bacon crispy?" He asks, grateful that you reminded him to put a shirt on when the grease pops and he jumps back. "Or on the limp side?"

“Crispy, please.” Until Alistair wakes up, you’re going to enjoy kissing him and cuddling him, even at the stove.

There is a sense of rightness to cooking with you, a homeyness that he can't replicate no matter how involved he tries to be or how many new cook books he checks out of the library. You just make things better. "Crispy it is." He winks at you and lifts a shoulder. "Maybe a little black if. you distract me with more kisses."

“Oops.” You feign innocence despite not feeling guilty in the least and flip the three pancakes in your pan. “We wouldn’t want that.”

"No, we wouldn't." He drops a kiss on your temple and turns back to his own pan. "Alistair loves pancakes, you are going to win him over first thing."

“Why do you think I suggested it?” It’s just a tease, and a quick batting of your eyelashes, but when you hear little feet hit the floor at the end of the hall you can’t help but smile. “I think he’s finally up.”

"He slept in late." Max checks the clock on the wall next to the phone and then at the doorway where Alistair comes stumbling in, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Hey buddy." He greets his son happily. "Did we bother you?"

“Noooo.” Voice still full of sleep, the little boy stretches in his Star Wars pajamas and looks up at you both. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Pancakes and bacon.” Max answers with a smile at his sleepy son. “Do you want some scrambled eggs too?”

“Yes p’ease.” He nods and rubs his eyes but never takes his eyes off his father. It’s abundantly obvious to anyone who sees them together, how much Alistair loves his dad. “Can I play with Dantes today?”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Max looks over at you and then moves the pan off the stove to walk over to the boy. “Can I ask you something?” He asks, crouching down and reaching for his son.

“Are you okay, daddy?” Alistair asks, little eyebrows raising in immediate concern.

“Oh yeah.” Max assures him with a serious look. “I’m really good.” He rubs Alistair’s stomach gently and looks back at you. “I wanted to know if you would be alright with me asking your friend on a date.” He poses seriously. “Since I know how much you like her, it’s only fair I ask.”

“Like a fancy date?” Alistair’s eyes light up with vague memories of when his mother would put on dresses and go out to dinner with men or the dates that he saw in movies. “A romantical one?”

“If that’s okay.” Max nods and looks back at you before staring into his son’s soft eyes.

“It has to be someplace nice.” Alistair tells his father as seriously as possible. “She’s a nice lady.”

Max chuckles, nodding quickly. “It will be very nice.” He promises. “Perhaps you could help me pick it out. If you are okay with us dating?” He feels like his son is saying yes, but he wants to be sure.

Alistair nods enthusiastically, but when he turns to you on the other side of the stove, his large eyes are even wider than usual. “Do you want to date my Daddy?” He asks, seemingly a little afraid of the question. Or maybe the answer. The fact that he checks with you – as if you hadn’t been standing here listening the whole time – is so sweet.

“I really do, honey,” you tell Alistair honestly, feeling a wide smile bloom across your face. “I like your dad a whole lot.”

“Yay! He’s a good dad!” He promises you enthusiastically. “He didn’t spend a lot of time with me before but that’s changed and he’s playing with me every night, reading with me, he’s even reading cooking books so he can make more than macaroni and cheese.”

“Oh yeah?” Of course you did know about Max’s efforts to cook better food at home more often, but there is no reason that Alistair needs to know that the baked pasta his daddy makes him now that is loaded with meat sauce and veggies, is actually your recipe. “I think he’s a really good dad and a really good friend, so that means he’ll probably be a really good boyfriend, too.”

“I don’t know.” Alistair tells you honestly, looking back at his dad. “Are you going to bring her flowers and tell her she’s pretty? You need to tell her she’s pretty.” He insists, making Max chuckle. “I will bring her flowers and I will tell her that she’s hermosa.” Alistair frowns in confusion. “It means ‘beautiful’ in Spanish, Alistair. That is the first language I spoke when I was a boy, remember?”

“Right…” He thinks for a second, searching his memory while you pull the last pancakes out of the pan. “Sí! That’s right, isn’t it Daddy?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s right.” Max beams, not ashamed of his first language and passing it down to his son. The assholes he had grown up being tormented by could not say they spoke two languages. If he was lucky enough, Alistair would know three.

“Mrs. Ramos speaks Spanish, too.” The woman who babysat him watched her ‘stories’ after he went to bed but he could always hear them.

“She does.” He nods and smiles. “My girlfriend–” he lights up when he calls you that, “–also knows Spanish. I think we will speak more at home in the future.”

The light in your eyes brightens measurably at the word, and you nod to Alistair when the last pancakes go on the platter for the table. “The first person who ever taught me Spanish was your abuela,” you tell him with a grin. “Your grandmother. She was a very nice lady.”

Max smiles sadly, wishing that Alistair could have met her, gone long before her time. Beaten down and broken by his father. “She was.”

“You said you were friends for a long time,” Alistair follows his father to the table with a stack of napkins and forks while his father carries the platter of bacon and pancakes. “But how come we never spent time with her before?”

“We had lost touch after we went away to college.” Max admits. “I was concentrating on making myself successful.”

“Now we are better than friends.” You might combust a little anytime Max calls you his girlfriend, but it’s such a good feeling. So comfortable and so right.

Alistair thinks about Max’s explanation for a moment before he nods, accepting it as the truth. “Just don’t be dumb and kiss another girl like Jimmy Smith was last week.” He huffs. “He has no girlfriends now.”

You have to smother your reaction to keep from laughing out loud, and end up giggling behind your hand while you pour orange juice for all three of you. “That is pretty dumb.” Hell, you can’t fault the kid for getting it on the nose.

“She is the only woman I want to kiss.” Max solemnly vows, his lips twitching to keep from smiling in amusement. It’s incredibly endearing how seriously he is taking this and Max pulls him closer for a hug. “So it’s cool with you? As the kids say now?”

He seems to consider it, looking between the two adults with drawn seriousness on his face before he leans over and whispers in his father’s ear. “Does that mean she’s going to be my new mom?” He asks, careful not to sound too hopeful or too curious. Sometimes when his Mom had had a new boyfriend, she would tell Alistair that the man who would be his new daddy. But it had never happened.

Alistair nods, slowly at first like he’s absorbing the idea, but he sits down at the chair after a moment and looks up at his father again with a smile. “Okay. Just as long as we don’t move far again. That was a lot of driving and boxes and stuff.”

“Understood, not too far.” Max chuckles and has to admit that this didn’t go too badly. He hugs his son and then stands up. “Let me scramble some eggs and we will have breakfast.”

You and Alistair set the table while he’s busy, and you slip back into the kitchen to grab the syrup a few minutes later with a grin on your face. “Well, I guess he’s okay with it.”

“As long as I tell you that you’re pretty.” Max reminds you, reaching over and snagging your waist to pull you close. “So I need to tell you how pretty you are this morning. Seeing you sleeping in my bed.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice dips low and makes you shiver slightly, but you bask in it. “Did you enjoy waking up next to me as much as I enjoyed waking up next to you?”

“I think that I enjoyed it more.” He teases, leaning in and kissing your lips. “Watching your sleepy eyes open and your smile made my year, amor.”

“I love you.” The words are so easy, but make your chest feel like it could burst with joy. “So much, Max.”

“I love you too.” It’s a huge thing for such simple words, but it makes him feel as if anything is possible.

“We should go back in there.” Even though you could spend all day basking in his smiles and kissing him silly, you know weekends are devoted time to be spent with his little boy. “Maybe the three of us can go out today? A museum or a walk in the park?”

“That sounds like a good day together.” He nods. “Perhaps a trip back to the library? Alistair wants to check out some more books since he’s finished the ones he has now.”

“I love a library day.” And maybe, just maybe, you might pick up your own manuscript again. There is an idea forming in the back of your mind that seems to grow every time Max smiles at you.

“Good.” He nods. “Go sit and I will bring the food out.”

“Yes, sir.” Teasing him with a very serious little mock salute, you grab the bottle of maple syrup from the fridge and steal a kiss before heading through the breakfast table.

Max brings the plates of food through once he’s done, happy to find you and Alistair giggling at the table. He’s struck again by how right all of these seems and he grins. “Who’s hungry?”

Alistair cheers and you grin, sitting back at the table with a soft, contented sigh. This feels right, and you are very happy to just let things happen as they come.

******

“Hermosa? Alistair? Are you home?” You had left early while Max had to stay late, so he is coming through the door without you. “Hello?” His excited voice carries through the apartment and he quickly shoves his keys into the bowl and kicks off his shoes.

“In the kitchen!” You call back, having taken the extra time at home with Alistair to start on making dinner. The weather is finally cool again and the little boy you love like your own has requested posole for dinner. The recipe that you had learned from his mother back in high school has become a favorite over the last few months. “Ali is building something grand with his Legos and Dantes is supervising,” you tell Max when he comes into the kitchen. “What did you have to stay late for, amor?”

“I – I did something.” He confesses, unable to stop himself from grinning as he snags a pepper and pops it into his mouth. You have practically moved into his apartment since that day. Your clothes are over in your space simply because there is nowhere to fit them here and Dantes’ toys and cat tree are in his living room, the cat himself having claimed Alistair as his sleeping partner while you are wrapped up with Max every night.

“Should I be concerned?” Given that he looks excited you’re not too suspicious, but you put the lid on the pot to let dinner cook and go over to give him a kiss.

“Unless you do not wish for this.” Max pulls a long, flat piece of plastic out of his pocket to hand to you along with several pamphlets.

“What is it?” The little packet might as well be tied up with string for how he presents it to you, but the plastic placard slides right out into your hand first. Max Lorenzano it reads in font and style identical to the nameplate on your office at work. “What’s—?” The rest of the packet is advertisements for apartments – bigger places in newer buildings or neighborhoods uptown that you know he couldn’t afford right now but had been dreaming about. “Did you—baby did you get a promotion?”

“There was a position for a Spanish language editor.” He reminds you quietly. “I didn’t tell you, but I applied for it.” He hadn’t wanted to get your hopes up, or his own if he were honest. Or if he didn’t get the job, he didn’t want you to be upset on his behalf. He was grateful the publishing house gave him the job as a janitor, so he had no wish to sour your experience. “I had my final interview tonight. That was why I had to stay.”

“You’re kidding?” You had known the position was open, and seen some people going in and out of the Editor-in-Chief’s office, but it hasn’t been something that you had brought up because you didn’t know if it would be something he was interested in. Now, though? You practically throw your arms around him in celebration. “That’s huge! That’s amazing, it’s— baby, I’m so proud of you!”

Laughing, Max lets himself fully enjoy the moment. Clinging to you as you jostle him in your own excitement. He had been working with Alistair on the boy’s Spanish and he had decided that he would go for the position with no expectations. Luckily, his dedication to the job hadn’t gone unnoticed and he had gotten the position. “You will not mind having me come in and being an editor as well, will you?”

“Mind? Honey, it’s fantastic!” Your arms around his waist squeeze tightly again as you beam at him. Max was never happy with the idea of making a career as a janitor but he liked the company and all of your coworkers, so he was working hard and taking pride in the work that he did have. This is far more than you expected, though. “You’re going to be amazing. And—” The pamphlets in your hand now make much more sense. “Is this…an invitation?”

“I– it makes no sense for us to spend so much money on two apartments.” Max tells you, biting his lip. “I was thinking we could all look for a place and pick it out together?” His brows raise in question and he looks for the world like a hopeful little boy.

“Are you asking me to officially move in with you?” Although you’ve been effectively living together for the last six months, calling this an official move would be the next large step forward in your relationship. It would also be a big bit of permanence for Alistair.

“I am.” Reaching for your hands, Max kisses the back of them, still holding his offerings. “I want to choose the house, apartment, home where we all live - together.”

“You must have some favorites already.” You hold up the pamphlets he had brought you. “Dinner is finishing. Why don’t we look and see what’s here?”

“Of course.” Max nods eagerly. “And if you don’t like any of these, we can look elsewhere. I just wanted to get started looking and these are within a healthy budget.” One thing he had learned was to live within his means and with security comes a wealth of happiness.

“Tell me what you found.” The stools at the kitchen counter are the perfect place to talk, and you sit down together eagerly. “Are they nearby? Oh…probably not all of them? Since you mentioned maybe a house?”

“There is a townhouse.” Max admits, pulling a flier from the bottom of the stack. “It needs some work, but it’s well discounted to account for that.” He lays it on the table and his eyes flash with excitement. “In Greenwich village. And it has a garden.”

“A townhouse?” One eyebrow raises in interest as he pulls out the paperwork from the real estate agent. It’s a beautiful neighborhood, one that you sometimes go to for dates and for entertainment. You’ve both mooned over the apartments and housing there plenty of times but you never thought you could afford it. “Is the work reasonable for us to do ourselves? I don’t mind doing floors and painting and all that kind of stuff.” It actually sounds kind of exciting. The idea of fully making it your home.

“There’s some things we would need to have done.” Max admits, tapping the page. “It needs some bathroom remodel, but I think that I know someone.” He grins. “Dan says he’s got a brother who’s a contractor. Will give us a discounted rate if I teach his daughter Spanish.”

“Then we should check it out.” He’s so excited that it makes the prospect automatically more attractive immediately, and you lean forward to kiss him before shuffling through the papers some more. There is a decent-sized apartment in a different part of Washington Heights, another townhouse but this time in Brooklyn, and even a cute little house in Queens. “I wouldn’t mind a commute,” you admit, looking at the picture of the little blue house with two floors and clean white window panes.

“Anywhere you want.” Max promises, loving that you are getting excited. “I just want to live with you and Alistair and Dantes.” He chuckles. “And maybe if we have room, a dog like my son wants.”

“Be careful of giving your son whatever he wants,” you chuckle knowingly. “This afternoon he told me he’s going to ask Santa for a little brother for Christmas.”

“He is?” His eyes widen and he wonders what you said to him.

“That’s what he said.” The look of almost smothered excitement on Max’s face makes you grin. “I told him that it takes a long time to make a little brother, though. So it might take Santa a little while. This Christmas might be too soon.”

“And that’s something you want? In the future?” Max confirms.

“A baby?” You almost laugh, but it would be a little mean when he’s looking at you so earnestly, so instead you reach for both of his hands to squeeze them. “I would love it, amor. But only if you want it, too.”

“Perhaps we should focus on homes with three bedrooms.” Max dreams quietly.

“Sounds like you like the idea.” You hum softly. “A cute little place with a yard for the kids to play in and maybe even a dog to keep Dante’s company.”

“I do like the idea.” He admits it easily. It’s easy to admit what he wants with you.

“I do, too.” It’s what you have always wanted with him and you feel like you live in a dream to see it coming true. “We should check out Brooklyn and Queens.”

“Okay. I will call the realtor tomorrow.” Max agrees with a grin.

“I’ll start doing some research on schools.” It won’t be too much love lost, since Alistair hasn’t made many friends at PS 117, but you want to make sure that wherever you choose will have good schools for him. And for his little sibling.

“Thank you.” He flashes you a smile and swallows. “I start the new job on Monday.”

“I’m really so proud of you, amor.” One of your hands cups his cheek and you feel like your heart could just burst from it. “You’ve been so helpful in helping with my book that I just know you’re going to be great with everyone else’s, too.”

“I don’t understand why it has taken you so long to finish it.” He huffs. “It’s remarkable. You should have been published years ago.”

“I guess I just needed the right inspiration.” You hum, pressing a kiss to each of his hands. Somehow Max has still not picked up on the fact that the love story you have been trying to write for so many years has a male lead based on him.

“Hmmm, I don’t know about that.” He shakes his head and bites his lip as he looks towards the stove. “So if I wanted to take you and Alistair out to celebrate, tomorrow would be best?”

“I think he’d be disappointed not to have posole tonight, so tomorrow sounds good.” Still, kissing him is completely irresistible. “But tomorrow we can go wherever you want to celebrate.”

“You made posole?” He lights up and leans in to kiss you again. “You are so good to me - to us.”

“Alistair’s special request and your mom’s recipe.” You beam under his praise and grin up at him. “Gotta keep my boys full and strong so they can keep making me proud.”

“I am glad that he is enjoying parts of my heritage that I tried so hard to bury.” Max admits with a slightly bashful expression. His natural accent has come back slightly, but he has trained it out of his speech that there is only a hint of it in some words. You both have started speaking Spanish at home to help Alistair improve his own command of the language.

“We are allowed to grow and change over time, amor.” Reaching to squeeze his hand, you can only offer him support with the knowledge that he has left so much of his heritage behind because of cruelty and ignorance from your classmates. “It’s good to see both of you embracing where you come from.”

“Genji said she wants to work on his command of Chinese when he is with her.” He tells you, proud of his son’s ability to learn multiple languages before any formal offering.

“That’s fantastic.” His mother has been a little more present lately, even though she still lives in DC and Max and Alistair are firmly settled in New York. He had spent Thanksgiving with her and will be in DC for the second half of his winter break. Max and Genji are making it work and you’re proud of the way he is keeping his promises and his commitments. “If he has some favorite recipes that she makes, we can add them into the rotation here, too. So he can have his Latin and his Chinese home cooking.”

“That would be good. She used to make this crispy beef that was amazing.” Max admits. “Although there is good Chinese takeout, it’s not the same.”

“Would it be okay with you if I called her for the recipe?” Max’s ex-wife has been surprisingly supportive of your relationship since she adjusted to the news that he is seeing someone. Your history together seemed to have won her over when she learned the whole story.

“That would be good. Alistair would appreciate that.” Max would too, but the idea of creating his son’s favorite meals at home would be fun.

You want to make a joke about making sure he knows you’re Step-Mom Material, but it isn’t a topic you’ve talked about with any seriousness yet. From time to time one of you will point out a favorite place in the city and remark that it would be good for a wedding - or see a commercial for a destination vacation and hun about a honeymoon. But there aren’t any plans yet and that is more than okay.

“Do you want to go look at the houses tomorrow?” He asks, excited about looking with you. It’s different, he doesn’t want big and flashy, he wants something he can take care of you and Alistair in.

“Absolutely.” He’s so excited about it that you are more than happy to agree. “Do you want to bring Al?”

“What do you think? Give him a say? Or should we narrow down the choices and then show him?” He asks you, wanting your input. You have been great with Alistair.

“It might be overwhelming for him to see every option,” you admit, knowing that there will be plenty of reasons not to choose a place that he won’t be aware of. “Let’s see if Señora Ramos is available after we make a few realtor appointments. We can take him to see our top choices?”

“That sounds like a solid plan.” Max agrees, happy with that since that is what he was thinking. He wants his son to be included, but he’s not going to know which school district is better.

“Have I mentioned how proud of you I am?” Of course you have, but you beam at him as you shift back over to the stove to give dinner a stir.

“I don’t know if it is possible without you, amor.” He admits, sliding behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips press to your neck and he sighs. “I wish I had kissed you on prom night.”

“Maybe we’d still be right here if you had.” The warmth and breadth of him against your back is comforting and you lean into it easily. “Standing in our kitchen making dinner, with Alistair playing with his pet completely oblivious to our snuggling.”

“Maybe.” It’s a sweet and heady thought. He kisses your neck softly and smiles against your skin. “And later on, I’ll make love to you.”

"That's my favorite part of the day." With Alistair asleep in the other room, with the cat lazing about doing cat things, with the day ended and nothing but each other to focus on, ending every day in his arms is wonderful.

“Mine too.” Max chuckles. “Unless you count waking up with you drooling on my chest.” He teases. You had only done it once, but he had thought your sheepish apology was cute.

That earns him an immediate pout from you, but you know he has every right to tease you about it now and then. "Your chest is my favorite pillow," you defend, batting your eyelashes at him for effect.

“I don’t mind it.” He waggles his brows playfully. “My chest is always available for you to use as your personal pillow.”

"And I always will." You promise him. There isn't any version of your future together where you want to wake up any other way.

******

“Honey?” Max opens the door to the apartment with a huge grin on his face. You had stayed home today to work on unpacking the last of the boxes and the boss had asked him to hand deliver this package to you personally. “It’s here!”

Nearly exhausted from unpacking, you're finally breaking down the last box when you hear him in the front hall. The Greenwich Village townhouse had needed a lot of work before you could move in, but now that you're here and you're unpacked it's wonderful to have it feeling like home. "I'll be right down!" You call from the top of the stairs before shoving the folded box under your arm and wiping your face on a bandana to head down from Alistair's room.

“Hey.” His eyes light up and he sets the box down in the entryway on the table that had moved from your apartment to his to the townhouse. Rushing halfway up the stairs. He takes the boxes from you and kisses you happily. “Amor.”

“What’s here, love?” You know what you hope has arrived - what he would have brought home from work for you - but you don’t want to assume.

“Your editor has sent a first print home for you to approve.” You had wanted your boss to handle the final edits of the book and Max had understood, although he was curious as to why. Eager to see your eyes light up when you hold your book, he takes your hand and drags you down the last few steps. “Your book is printed, amor. You have done it.”

This book has been a decade in the making, as you visited the story and the manuscript on and off for years. Inspiration had slipped away from you and been stubborn in coming back right up until the day Max walked back into your life. Now, when you nervously crack open the box of first edition copies of The Shadow Rose to see the glossy image of vines ensnaring a dewy purple rose, you could really almost cry. “It’s real,” you sigh in disbelief, cradling a copy in your arms like your first-born child.

Max beams proudly, watching you absorb the moment as a bystander. While he feels incredibly satisfied that you have accomplished a lifelong goal, this is your moment. Your accomplishment. “You did it. You are a published author, amor.”

“Wait one second.” You insist, pressing a kiss to his lips before disappearing with the book into your writing room - the former home office - to grab a pen. The dedication page of the book is very deliberate. “To Max: My inspiration, my support, my biggest cheerleader, and my best friend. My first love and my better half. Thank you for everything you have done, and everything you continue to do. I have a question for you.”

Underneath, in your own scrawling handwriting, five words follow with the stroke of a pen: “Amor, will you marry me?”

You had decided to ask him months ago. During the time you were painting the master bedroom. It had been like a moment from a movie when he smeared paint on your cheek and you returned the favor - and the beaming grin on his face had seemed to call to you. This man is without a doubt, the rest of your life. So now it’s time to ask.

Max tilts his head curiously when you come rushing back into the room. “Was the camera in the other room?” He asks, knowing that he wants to take a picture of you holding the book. Something he can print out and hang up in the small little nook that had been turned into a home office for the two of you. He rubs his hands together, knowing that you might cry a little as you look through the book and he wants to take you out to celebrate your success. Treat you to champagne like you deserve.

“The first copy is for you,” you tell him, vibrating nervously as you put it in his hands. “I just wanted to make sure the dedication was right before I gave it to you.”

“For me?” He frowns slightly, confused as to why you want to give him the first copy. You should want to keep it for yourself. “You shouldn’t, amor.” He still opens the book even as he tells you that so he can reach this dedication.

You’re vibrating with anxiety when he opens the cover of the book, ready to drop down on one knee the second he looks up at you from the page. The ring has been in your pocket all week, just waiting for the box of books to arrive at your door. Now that the moment is here, the signet ring with the ornate L carved into it feels even heavier with importance.

“Amor.” Max’s jaw drops and he looks up, only to follow your body as it drops down to your knee in front of him. Humbled, elated, overjoyed and even a little jealous - he had been ring shopping - he chokes out a surprised cry and the book slams shut as he drops down to his knees with you.

“I know it’s unconventional.” Of course you’re already sniffling back tears, but you pull the ring from your pocket with a beaming smile and offer it to him with such care. “But I love you so much, and I absolutely adore Alistair and I just—” your voice cracks a little and you can’t help a small laugh as the first tear breaks through. “Tú eres el amor de mi vida. Te casarías conmigo?” You’re the love of my life. Will you marry me?

“I–” Max chokes up again, near tears and he can’t even speak, nodding furiously out of fear that he would make you think that he was turning you down. “Sí.” He manages after a moment. “Siempre.”

Once he says yes, the amount of giggling, sniffling, and kissing shared between the two of you on the living room rug is endless. Not that you would ever want it to stop, but it seems like an opening of the floodgates.

“I love you. You are-“ he shakes his head and laughs. “I was trying to find out what kind of rings you liked.” He admitted. “I’ve been asking Kim.”

“She probably told you to find something big and flashy,” you huff a laugh between tears. As your closest friend, Kim has always joked that she expected the guy you ended up with to put no less than the Hope Diamond on your finger — while you would proudly sport the prize from a Cracker Jacks box as long as it came from the right man.

“She did.” Max chuckles. “Then she told me that you would actually love a sapphire or emerald engagement ring.”

“At least she told you the truth eventually.” The two of you cuddle into each other’s arms in the middle of the rug, furniture be damned. This moment is worth more than any sofa. “I don’t need a ring, amor. I only need you and Al.”

“I will proudly wear your ring, but I wish to get you one as well.” He admits. “It is not pride that makes me say that.” He assures you. “It is that I wish for you to carry a piece of my love for you as you go about your day.”

“Then I will wear whatever you choose with equal joy and love.” Nuzzling into his side, you press a kiss over his heart, then to his cheek, and then to his lips. “Alistair will be excited that I was finally able to ask.”

“He knew?” His brows shoot up and he huffs playfully. “I cannot believe he kept it from me.” He pouts, heart melting a little more from the fact that you conspired with his son.

"I had to ask him too," you grin, loving the soft expression of gratitude on Max's face. "Make sure he was okay with me loving him and his daddy forever."

“I’m sure that he has no problem with that.” He hums. “That boy adores you.”

"He had one condition." And it had been so sweet that you hadn't been able to refuse. "He wants to be your best man. He saw it in a movie and he's decided it's the most important thing for him to do for you."

“Yes.” Max lights up and nods immediately. “Absolutely. I would have nothing else than for him to be my best man. I will have to ask him formally. Get him some cufflinks.”

"We can do whatever you want." You hum softly and run your fingers over the signet sitting on his finger before looking back up at him. "All I care about is that I get to marry you."

“That is all that matters.” Max sighs happily. “You are Alistair, you’re my second chance and plan on making the most of it, amor.” He will, Max has found that there are things much more important than business success and fortune. With you and Alistair, he’s the wealthiest man on earth.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord

My Masterlist!

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

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Pedro Pantheon Challenge.

So, I'm looking at hosting a Pedro Pantheon Challenge. Writing different PPCU characters as Greek Gods. We're not limited to the 12 Olympians, so have a good think. I'll be putting out some fact sheets for each god and goddess over the next few weeks!

Fill in this form for interest!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #fanfic #joel miller #din djarin #ezra prospect #dave york #dieter bravo #javier peña #javi g #marcus moreno #marcus pike #maxwell lord #max phillips #ppcu #Pedro Pascal Pantheon Challenge #oberyn martell

[daddy-dins-girl]

Kindred - Chapter Two

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

Chapter 1 || Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: Max repays the favor ;)

Maxwell Lord x f!Reader (Nanny)

Word Count: 7k

Notes: Doing my best here with early 80's references but this story takes place before I was born so... take it easy on me.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Smut (so much smut). Dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation (mentioned), explicit language.

Tagging my Maxwell baby mutuals who inspired this part 2! @boliv-jenta @suzdin @heavennumber2 @prolix-yuy

By the time Friday had finally rolled around you were exhausted. It had been a long week of juggling all 3 of your jobs at once with the impromptu addition of Nannying for Alistair this week, but you wouldn’t complain. The extra money you’d make at the Lord’s this week (and likely next week you presumed, as you had yet to hear anything about Alistair’s mother returning any time soon to take him back as per the usual schedule) would provide a nice cushion for your savings account which you liked to keep for the times when either of your other two jobs would slow down. You would get Alistair to school in the mornings then make deliveries or do your haircuts during the day, then rush off to pick up Alistair, bring him home, entertain him for a couple hours, make dinner, clean up after yourselves and then make sure he was bathed and put to bed at a decent time. Max always tried to get home in time for bedtime for Alistair but it hadn’t happened at all this week so you’d done it each night. Not that you minded. Alistair was, in terms of children you’ve cared for, one of the easiest you’d ever dealt with when it came to bed time. He liked a snuggle in the rocking chair by his bed while you read him a story, then you tucked him in, flipped off the light and left the room, letting him fall asleep on his own. Max always made sure to call though when he knew for certain he wouldn’t make it in time. He would talk to Alistair on the phone, ask him about his day, and on nights when he had a few free minutes of time he would make up his own story to tell to Alistair in lieu of actually being home to read him one from his bookshelf.

That’s where you found yourselves now; you were wiping down the kitchen counters while Alistair sat at the table, phone cord twisting around his fingers as he happily babbled on to his father about the day he had. A smile tugged at your lips as you overhear Alistair tell his Dad about the goal he’d scored in soccer today in gym class, the same story you’d heard from him three times already tonight when he’d forget that he already told you. You gave the same excited reaction each time regardless, letting him have his victory he was so proud of.

“Okay, one second” You hear Alistair say into the phone a couple minutes later and look over to see him holding the phone out in your direction. “Daddy wants to talk to you Nana” he tells you, using the nickname you’d accidentally adopted from the boy when he’d called you it the first time you met. Max had explained to him that you’d be his Nanny and Alistair had gotten confused, thinking it was your name and shouted “Nana!” excitedly the first time he saw you. You and Max had laughed so hard at it that Alistair found it hilarious (even if he didn’t know why you were laughing) and so he’d just continued to call you it. You didn’t mind. At first you were a little weary that it made it sound like you were some kind of grandmother to him but you were also far too young for anyone with half a brain to believe you were old enough to be a grandparent so it didn’t bother you. You’d get the occasional odd look tossed your way when he’d call you it out in public or around the school pick-up, but you didn’t even notice it anymore.

Your brow furrows slightly when Alistair holds the receiver out towards you but you head over and take the phone anyway. Typically they chat to each other and just hang up but maybe there was something important Max needed to tell you.

You had barely spoken to him, you realize, since your (incredible, in your mind at least) night together at the beginning of the week. He was always off to work so early in the morning and though you did see him in the mornings, Alistair was typically in the same room as at least one of you at all times, either getting his breakfast or just spending the precious few minutes he had with his dad before both of their days started. So on those busy mornings you hadn’t exactly talked about how you’d tied your employer to the same kitchen chair where Alistair was eating his Cheerios and gave him a life-altering blow job that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about. Not quite a family breakfast table conversation with a 6 year old in the room. And in the evenings you’d actually been asleep by the time he had gotten home each night. Usually you’d try and wait up but with all the extra work you’d been pulling this week you just couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to see him. You hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him because you absolutely weren’t. The truth is you were actually glad Alistair was always around in the mornings because if he wasn’t you doubted you’d be able to control yourself long enough for Max to get out of the house in the morning.

That night - the night - after you had parted ways from Max from the kitchen you had gone down the hallway to your bedroom and gotten yourself off so hard that you had to wash the sheets the next day and he’s all you thought about since.

“Hello?” You say into the phone once you’ve taken it from Alistair.

“Tell Alistair to go watch TV” Max tells you promptly and your cheeks heat up immediately. Clearly whatever this is, he intended for it to be a private conversation away from young ears.

“Hey buddy, go find a show for us to watch OK? I have to talk to your Dad for a minute then I’ll be right there” you tell the boy before ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Ok” Alistair shrugs and hops off the chair, running down the hall towards the living room.

“Hi” you try again, hoping he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Hi Angel” Max greets you warmly and you swear your stomach flutters.

“Listen, I know I’ve been home late all week and I’ve missed Alistair’s bedtimes,” he begins and you frown. It’s not exactly why you thought he wanted to talk to you with Alistair out of the room…

“Oh.. Um, it’s ok, I really don’t mind doing it” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“I know, but still. I should be there. I want to be there. Anyways, I really want to try and see him tonight. Will you try and keep him up a little late for me? I’ll try not to be too late, but it will be a little past his usual bedtime I’m sure”

“Yeah, of course” you agree easily. “No school tomorrow so he’ll probably be jazzed about getting to stay up late anyway” you shrug, knowing it’s true. Alistair was constantly asking to stay up late but you’d always stuck to a pretty regular schedule to keep his routine on track so he wasn’t too affected whether he was at his mom’s or his dad’s house.

“Good, good” You hear Max sigh with relief. “I really want to spend some time with him”

“Of course Mr. Lord”

“And um, Angel?” He begins again and the familiar warmth comes flooding back at the change in his tone.

“Yes?”

“I’d really love to spend some time with you, too, if you could wait up for me after I get Alistair to bed”

“Oh,” you breathe, surprised. “Um,” you don’t mean to hesitate, but the tingling sensation that runs through your veins when his deep honeyed voice comes through the phone throws you off guard and all you can do is bite down on your lower lip in anticipation, forgetting momentarily that he can’t actually see through the phone how his words are affecting you.

“Only - Only if you want to. I mean, we don’t-” Max starts rambling and you quickly gather your wits to cut him off.

“No! I mean, I do, want to. Of course I want to, Mr. Lord” You make sure to say his name teasingly this time, unlike moments ago when you were talking to 'your boss', and you hear him chuckle into the phone.

“Well good. I’m… looking forward to it then, Angel”

“Me too” you whisper into the phone, smiling as you wrap the phone cord around your fingers.

“See you in a few hours” he promises before the line clicks signaling that he’s hung up. You sigh dreamily and hang up the phone before wandering off to find Alistair; a stupid smile playing on your lips the rest of the night.

…

It’s 10pm and you’re doing your best to keep Alistair awake an hour now past his usual bedtime. You were playing a board game for a while because you thought it would be a better way to keep him awake then a movie or tv show but after it was done he’d asked if you could watch something instead so you agreed and now you sat on the couch with Alistair's feet in your lap. You would give his feet a little tickle each time you noticed him starting to nod off and he’d break out into a fit of giggles that seemed to keep him awake for a few more minutes each time but you weren’t sure how much longer it would be a successful tactic. Thankfully you don’t have to wonder though because you hear the click of the lock at the front door and Max calling out announcing his arrival and Alistair jumps off the couch as if he hadn’t just been nearly drooling on the arm of it five seconds ago.

“Daddy!” he shrieks in excitement, running down the hallway as fast as his two little legs could carry him and nearly knocking his father over when he barrels into him with his arms spanned outwards.

“Ooof! Hey buddy” Max groans when he catches him. “Look who’s awake” he grins at his son.

“Yeah, Nana let me watch Knight Rider” Alistair explains enthusiastically.

“Oh she did, did she?” Max brings his gaze up to find yours as you too came out to the hallway and he raises an eyebrow at you. It wasn’t exactly a show meant for 6 year olds but in your defense it was 10pm on a Friday night, there weren't exactly any kid-friendly shows on TV.

“Hey, you wanted him to stay awake, David Hasselhoff provided” you shrugged and Max huffed a laugh. You knew he wasn’t actually upset. You’d never let Alistair watch anything really inappropriate and Max knew that.

“Yeah the car is SO COOL Dad!” Alistair carries on. “You should get one I think”

“Oh you think so, do you?” Max teases, hauling his son up to sit on his hip so he can place a kiss to his forehead.

“Daddy gets me whatever I want” Alistair turns his head towards you to explain and you laugh.

“Well then you are a very lucky boy, mister. I think KIIT might be on contract to the TV network for at least a few more seasons though so you might have to wait on that one” you joke and Alistair only shrugs in his father’s arms.

“That’s ok, I can wait. I can’t even drive yet” He explains and both you and Max let out a hearty laugh at that.

It’s sweet how much Max is endeared by his son. Though Max may be on the verge of being successful, he’s certainly not a wealthy man but to Alistair he might as well be royalty. The way Max carries himself and speaks of himself alludes to wealth well beyond his actual means, but that is part of what makes him a great businessman and what pulls in his investors, you presume. Though Alistair leads a humbled life, he’d never know it the way his father treats and spoils him. He’s always clothed and fed, but their home and lifestyle is modest at best. In the 6 year old’s eyes however he wants for nothing and he latches on to the way Max projects not only himself but his family. Max has an image to uphold and it’s important and although he does provide for his family, you know it’s not as much as he’d like to be able to, and that’s why he works as hard as he does. You’d had an honest and upfront financial conversation when you’d first been hired and Max had been apologetic that he couldn’t offer you a higher salary. He knew it wasn’t enough but it was what he could afford and you assured him you were fine with it. Living at his house for half the month helped you out a lot, financially. Your utility bills were essentially cut in half, same for your groceries, though you did still have to pay your full rent each month obviously, despite only living there half the time. But you’d be paying it regardless, so having a paycheck from Max and all the money you saved on essentially living “for free” for half the month each month was more than enough for what you needed to live your life the way you wanted to.

You didn’t know much of Max’s past or upbringing but he did share some of it with you one night a month or so ago when you’d both been relaxing on the back deck with a bottle of wine long after Alistair had gone to bed. You hadn’t meant to dig deep into your past and spill half of your life story to him, but you did. When he was at home and relaxed like this and not having to put on the act he always did out in the world or when television cameras were rolling on him, he was so easy to talk to and you felt so comfortable. So you’d shared (or maybe overshared, though he didn’t seem to mind) and soon, he shared also. It wasn’t much, but he did tell you of his very humbled beginnings, how he’d gone to school in tattered clothes and holes in his shoes. How he was treated by his peers at school and when you reached out to place a hand on his arm in comfort he quickly shook his head and told you that it was ok, it pushed him to be where he was today and motivated him to give his own son the things he never had. You’d quickly brushed away a tear that had slid down your cheek as he confessed parts of his past to you, hoping he didn’t see it, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. You tried to pry even further and asked him about his parents but he just cleared his throat and pretended to look at his watch, commenting on how late it was and that you should both probably get some sleep. You never pushed the subject again.

“Ok buddy why don’t you go get your PJ’s on and pick a story and I’ll be right in OK?” Max says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts as he gently places Alistair back on the floor. The boy rubs his tired eyes and nods before turning on his heel to head up the stairs to get ready for bed.

Max leans on the bannister, watching Alistair go until he’s out of eyesight before turning his attention back to you and taking the few strides forward until he reaches you.

“Thank you, for keeping him up. It’s been a crazy week, I feel like I haven’t seen him at all” Max sighs and your shoulders fall. You feel for him. Max is always working like crazy and you can’t imagine how hard it is for him to already only have 50% custody but then still barely get to spend any time with him even when it is his time.

“Happy to do it” You smile. “He missed you this week. We um…” You pause, looking down and feeling suddenly shy. You reach out to tug gently at the bottom of Max’s tie hanging loosely around his neck, feeling the fine fabric between your fingers and memories from the last time you touched his tie flooding your thoughts. “We both missed you” you shrug, finally bringing your gaze back up to meet his, a smile playing on your lips. Max’s eyes close and he lets a deep breath out through his nose before opening his eyes again to look at you.

“Good, just… hold that thought, OK?” He asks, bringing his hand up to cover yours on his tie, his thumb rubbing absently across the backs of your knuckles.

You nod and Max brings your hand up to place a kiss to the back of it, giving you a quick wink before he drops your hand and takes off up the stairs calling after his son, reminding him to brush his teeth.

Time seems to be running backwards while you wait for Max. Or maybe you’re just terribly impatient. You look at the clock on your bedside table again and it’s nearly 11:00. Alistair usually doesn’t take more than 15 minutes to put down and it’s been nearly 45. You’ve been staring at the same page in your book for at least 10 minutes. Constantly losing your place or forgetting what you’d just read all together as you keep glancing back over to the clock. You’re still exhausted, too. Today has probably been the busiest of the whole week and the anticipation of spending time with Max is the only thing keeping your eyes open. You wonder what’s taking him so long and try to push back the negative thoughts in your head that are wondering if he’s changed his mind entirely and not seeking you out tonight. Maybe he’s had a change of heart or doesn’t want to complicate things. You couldn’t even blame him for it, though you hoped it wasn’t the case.

The thoughts don’t have a chance to plague you any further though as you hear a soft knock at your bedroom door and you quickly flip over onto your back, holding yourself up on your elbows as you call out for him to come in.

“Hi” Max sighs with relief when he enters your bedroom. He closes the door behind him then turns back towards you and runs his hands through his hair. You notice then that his hair is wet and he’s not dressed in his typical dress suit and tie that he’d been in when he got home. Instead he’s wearing a pair of black pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. You’d always thought Mr. Lord looked incredible in his suits but this look was positively delicious, you decide.

“You showered” You mention because you suddenly feel like your whole mouth has gone dry and you have no grasp on how to speak in more than 2 word sentences when this man is standing in front of you looking the way he does. It should be criminal.

“Oh, uh, yeah” Max looks away, almost like he’s embarrassed but you’re not sure why he would be. He’d been working for nearly 14 hours, of course he’d want a shower when he got home, you rationalize. You of course were oblivious to the fact that he had actually showered because he wanted to fuck his fist before coming to see you so the night wouldn’t be over before he really had a chance to begin it. He’d been in absolute agony all week thinking about you. Your hands on him, your mouth, the way you spoke to and treated him. He’d even jerked off in his private bathroom at work this week - something he’d never done before - when it got to the point where he couldn’t even concentrate on his work because he couldn’t get you out of his head.

“Alistair’s asleep?” You ask, getting up on your knees now on the bed and shuffling over to the side edge.

Max simply nods before taking quick strides to meet you over at your bed, his large hands instantly coming to your waist to roam up and down your sides as he stands in front of you, his eyes watching the movement of when the hem of your tank top rides up slightly to reveal some skin.

“Angel you’re so beautiful” he sighs and though you wouldn’t exactly agree, you believe he means his words.

“Max, I’m literally wearing a tank top and sleep shorts” you giggle. You didn’t exactly have any sexy lingerie over at your babysitting gig so you’d just changed into your regular sleep clothes when Max had gone to put Alistair down.

“And still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” Max confesses before he presses forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss. He wastes no time running his tongue along your bottom lip and you open up to him gladly, moaning into his mouth when his tongue strokes against yours. He tastes like mint toothpaste and heaven. Your hands go up to push through his wet hair, pulling him even closer to you.

“Mmm, fucking missed you” Max groans into your mouth as his grip on your waist tightens. “Tell me you missed me” he breathes heavily before capturing your mouth again and swallowing your moan that follows.

“I missed you Maxi. Haven’t stopped thinking about you” you admit.

“Oh, fuck, me too Sweetheart” Max groans, his mouth leaving yours to trail down your throat instead. He licks, nips and sucks all the way down the side of your throat until he reaches your collarbone and then ascends back up to meet your mouth again for more hungry kisses. His tongue explores your mouth, the wet muscle fighting for dominance against yours as his hands slowly push up, up, up your sides and under your tank until they’re at the bottom of your breasts and he deftly reaches his thumbs up to brush across each of your nipples. His hands seem enormous on your body and they’re driving you mad.

“Maxxx” you whine when you feel your nipples pebble under his ghosting touch. You want more of him. Need more of him. Without bothering to ask, you push off of him for a brief second just long enough to hastily tug your tank top up and over your head, throwing the offending garment off to some corner of the room before you pull him into your body again and your mouths meet once more. You’re very glad at that moment that you had decided to forego a bra tonight.

“Needy girl” Max groans into your mouth, his hands now greedily grabbing and kneading into your breasts. Your back arches so you push further into his touch and you can’t help the whine that escapes you.

“Please Max” you whimper. You’re not even sure what you’re asking him for. You just know you need more.

“Angel, Max is here now darling” Max soothes, pulling his mouth away so he can study your face instead. Your eyes are half closed, mouth open, you know you must look positively wrecked already and it’s because you are.

“Let me take care of you” he whispers before he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your lips. You try to deepen it but he pulls away too quickly. You don’t have time to complain however because as quick as he leaves your lips he lowers his head and puts his mouth on your left breast, his hand pushing it further into his mouth as he alternates between suckling on and flicking his tongue over the pert bud.

“Oh Max, baby, that feels so nice” you praise him by running your hand through his hair as you look down and watch him mouth at your breast, humming his satisfaction into it while his other hand pays the right side equal attention, massaging it in his palm and pinching the nipple between his thumb and index finger. Your head is rolling back as his warm mouth continues its assault and there’s a slow burn beginning to build deep in your core as he takes his time with you.

He continues sloppily kissing, nibbling and lathing his tongue over your breasts for what you could swear is hours but in reality is more likely only minutes. He’s switching occasionally between the two sides, his hand and fingers always making up for the attention the one is not getting from his mouth. Your head feels like you might as well be on another planet. You can’t concentrate on anything but Max’s hands and mouth on you, driving you absolutely insane. Heat continues to coil in the lower parts of your belly as he keeps showering you with attention and all you can do is whimper and continue tugging on his hair while pushing your breasts into his face. He hasn’t even touched you beneath your waist yet and you’re not sure how you’ll survive that, if this is how he’s making you feel already. You can’t remember the last time someone had focused so much attention on you without seeking out their own pleasure at the same time but you get the feeling by the way Max is constantly moaning and babbling adorations into your breasts that this is giving him nearly as much pleasure as it’s giving you.

Your panties are uncomfortably wet, you can feel them already, and as if on queue, Max seems to read your mind as he suddenly shifts his position and lifts his left leg a bit so he can place his knee on the edge of your bed. His hands let go of your breasts and he brings them to your legs and yanks you forward you so that your legs straddle his thigh and you let out a guttural moan when your aching center rubs against the firm muscle of his thigh.

“That’s it baby” Max coos, his mouth releasing your breast to place wet kisses to the mounds instead. “Take what you need, I’ve got you” he promises before placing his hands on your ass and pressing you harder into him, helping you rock back and forth and create the friction he knows you're begging for.

You're moaning freely now, not caring how desperate you sound. It’s everything but still not enough. Without giving it a second thought you reach down to tug your shorts down, needing to get them off as quickly as possible. Max reaches down too, helping you as you awkwardly try to get them all the way down and off your legs to kick them free. It takes a few seconds, not easy given your kneeling position, but you manage and then gasp as Max pulls you hard back into position and you start grinding against him again with renewed vigor.

“Oh Max, oh fuck”

Max’s attention goes back to your throat again. He’s kissing and sucking all over and pulling sounds from you that you can only pray won’t wake the sleeping 6 year old upstairs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you’re chanting now. You’re so close and it feels so good that you’re not even the slightest bit embarrassed about how you’re getting yourself off like some kind of rabid dog, grinding up and down on Max’s leg. You can hear the wet squelch of your desire that’s soaked the inside of your panties and you know you’ve not only ruined them, but surely Max’s pants as well.

“Come on baby,” Max encourages, his hands back on your ass as he helps speed up your rhythm and push you harder against him. He starts jutting his own hips forward so that his leg rocks into you, meeting your thrusts and your head lolls backwards. Max takes full advantage of that, finding a particular spot in the hollow of your throat and running his teeth along it before sucking you hard into his mouth. He knows it will leave a mark and he absolutely does not care.

“Oh my God, Max, yes, yes” You cry out as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You feel like a fucking teenager - not that you’re complaining - getting off from dry humping and hickeys, but Max does something to you that you haven’t felt in years. If ever, even.

Hell, the man just made you cum without even taking your underwear off.

“Holy shit” you breathe as the rocking of your hips slows dramatically and Max continues to moan into and suckle on your neck, but with a restrained intensity now as he feels you come down from your high. His hands are still groping your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh in his large hands as he moans into your throat. You rest your chin on top of his head and wrap your fingers around the back of it, hands petting over his hair as you float back down to earth.

“Angel you’re so good for me” Max hums into your neck before placing a few more kisses to it and pulling himself back to look at you. He brushes the hair out of your face and you manage a lazy smile.

“You’re not so bad yourself” you retort. It’s beyond cheesy but the grin Max gives you in return tells you he loves it.

“Lay down” he instructs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m not done with you”

You quickly oblige him, moving to lay down on your back in the middle of the bed with your head resting on the pillows. Despite having just came, you’re already squirming, waiting for his hands to be on you again. You don’t have to wait long before he’s crawling onto the bed on his knees and swinging one leg over the other side of your hips so you’re between his legs. His strong hands come down to rest at your waist before beginning to play the waistband of your panties and then he lifts one edge of the elastic right by your hip bone, stretching it and then letting go so it snaps back against your skin and you whimper in anticipation.

“Take these off” he orders and you don’t need to be told twice, quickly pushing them down and shimmying out of them.

“So beautiful” Max murmurs, looking down at your naked core and running the back of his hand over you so his knuckles brush against your hip and then down to the top of your thigh.

“Maxxxx” you whine, needy for his touch. He’s so close, and yet still hasn’t touched you where you’ve been dying to feel him all week.

“Fuck, Sweetheart” Max moans before he lets out a growl and lowers himself down to kiss you hard. It’s all teeth and tongue and desperation and you love it, grasping onto his shoulders to keep him close.

“Baby,” Max breathes between urgent kisses. “Angel, I…” he cuts himself off again, not able to pull away from your mouth long enough to form a complete sentence it seems. “If you don’t want… If you want me to stop you have to…” he trails off, the thought unfinished as you pull him back into another heated kiss. You know what he was getting at. If you don’t want to go any further tonight you need to tell him to stop now or pretty soon he won’t be able to.

You kiss him a few more times before finally pulling back and taking his face into your hands to ensure he hears you.

“If you don’t touch me soon Maxwell Lord, I’m fucking quitting” you tell him. You’re of course kidding about the quitting part and the grin that crosses his lips tells you he knows, but you do need him to touch before you actually lose your mind.

The moment the words leave your lips Maxwell’s hand is cupping your sex and you arch your whole body into his touch, moaning into his mouth when you recapture his lips.

“Mmmm, Sweetheart” Max hums in delight when his digits slide through your soaked folds. “So fucking wet for me”

“All for you baby” you breathe against his lips, hips chasing into his touch.

Max slides his fingers delicately through your folds, bringing the tip of his middle finger that’s slick with your desire up to swirl around your clit a few times and you gasp into his mouth.

“Max!”

“Shh, shh, shhh” Max soothes, peppering kisses to the side of your face now as his fingers slide back down and begin to nudge at your entrance instead. You widen your legs instinctively, pushing his knees apart and giving him more access and you feel him huff a little laugh against your cheek.

“You really are my Angel, aren’t you”

“Yes” you whine, your hands coming up to grab at the hem of his t-shirt and you begin pulling, suddenly needing to feel more of him, his body against yours.

Max quickly gets the hint and his hand unfortunately leaves your aching core momentarily while he sits up and tugs the t-shirt off his head and tosses it to the end of the bed before his large frame comes back down on top of you. He slides one leg between yours and nudges your left leg further out and then brings his other leg over as well so you’re spread out on either side of him, impatiently squirming with him between your legs.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about all week, my dear?” he asks, his breath fanning against your ear and you shake your head.

“I want to know what you taste like” he whispers and you moan, your arms coming up to wrap around his naked back.

“Tell me baby” you whisper against his lips before capturing his bottom one between your teeth gently before letting go. “Tell me what you’ve thought about”

Max groans and shoves his tongue inside your mouth to kiss you greedily for a few moments before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. “Angel I want to fuck you with my tongue, my mouth” Max confesses and you whimper. “Want to make you feel so good like you did for me. Baby do you know how many times I had to fuck my hand this week because I couldn’t stop thinking about you?”

“Really?” it comes out breathy and you're arching your hips off the bed to grind into Max’s lower half, feeling his hardness under the confines of his clothes. “I had to wash my sheets twice this week” you confess your own discretions and Max practically growls in response and it sends a surge of heat straight to your core.

“Fuck” Max groans, not able to help but rut his hips into yours. “My needy girl, gonna make you feel so good”

“Yes, Maxi” you moan, your hips coming off the bed again to thrust against his. “Want your mouth on me baby, please” you beg him and he groans.

“Fuck” he curses once more before placing hot open-mouthed kisses down your throat, the top of your chest as he inches his body down further and further, his mouth following his decent until he’s hovering just above where you need him most. Your hips thrust up into the air but you can’t reach anything and you let out a whine.

Max is just staring at your glistening pussy and were you not completely fucked out you might be embarrassed but you are so you do nothing but moan and writhe beneath his stare, begging without words for him to do something.

He does. Oh boy, he does. Two fingers suddenly plunge inside of you just as his mouth latches on to your clit and you practically scream out in pleasure at the simultaneous intrusions.

“Oh Max, oh fuck, yeah, yeah” you’re writhing beneath him, your hands coming down to grab fistfuls of his hair as you secure his face into your cunt and he moans against you, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Just like that baby, right there” you encourage, your hips rutting against his face unabashedly. His fingers continue to plunge in and out of you, fingertips curling just right as they hit as deep as they can go and his mouth is alternating its attention between licking through your folds and tonguing frantically at your clit and god help you, but you’re coming again already.

“Oh Max, yes, yes, fuck fuck fuck! Don’t stop. Max. Max!”

You’re loud as you come for him, and you know it. Absolutely debauched and you can’t help it. Your thighs are shaking as they grip either side of his head and you’re practically riding his face as you come completely undone at his mercy and Max dutifully laps away at your folds and leisurely fucks you with his fingers for minutes long after you come and you just hum happily as your hips continue slowly rocking into his face and your hands continue to get lost in his hair.

Maybe it was because you hadn’t gotten off from anything but your own hand for much longer than you’d care to admit, or maybe Max Lord was secretly some kind of sex God, you weren’t sure, but all you did know is that you just had 2 of the most incredible orgasms of your lifetime and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

Yeah, you were leaning more toward the sex God thing.

You’re so lost in your post orgasm bliss that you literally almost fall asleep while Max still has his tongue buried deep in your pussy. He seems perfectly content to just nuzzle into your folds and leisurely lick and suck and fingerfuck you like he has all the time in the world. He’s probably been at it a good five or ten minutes at least since you came but its soft and slow and sensual and the intimacy of it feels so heightened. He’s not trying to bring you to another orgasm, or overstimulate your sensitive sex, he just wants to be close to you, savor you like you’re his last meal, and you let him.

Your good boy.

He notices after a while how you’ve stopped rocking your hips into him and your hands have slowed from running through his hair and he finally pulls his mouth off of you and his fingers out and you groan tiredly at the loss. Max presses soft kisses to your mound and the insides of your thighs before pushing himself up onto his elbows and crawling back over top of you. Your head is lolled to the side, your eyes closed but a ridiculous smile playing on your lips. You actually nearly fucking fell asleep.

“Mmmm, that was nice” you mumble into your pillow.

“Angel I think I wore you out” Max chuckles and your eyes open wearily to look at him, your slick smeared across the bottom half of his face should maybe be embarrassing to you but you can’t help but find it anything but incredibly sexy.

“No, ‘m not…” you trail off for a moment, forgetting what you’re saying. “Not even tired” you try to sound convincing, but know you’re anything but.

“Get some sleep, my darling” Max’s voice is soft and suddenly at your ear, though you hadn’t even felt him move. He presses a kiss to your temple and then you feel him shift all of his weight off of you and you whine at the loss of body heat.

“Baby?” You murmur, reaching a hand out blindly for him. He takes your hand in his and brings his lips to your knuckles before placing it gently back down.

“Go to sleep, Angel, I’ll see you in the morning”

“But you didn’t…”

“I’m ok” he quickly promises. You highly doubt that. You felt him hard as a fucking rock against you earlier but you honestly don’t know if you have it in you to go another round either.

“You’re leaving?” You say, suddenly realizing he’s off the bed and standing beside it, pulling his t-shirt back over his head. You don’t mean to sound as whiny about it as you do, but you can’t help it.

“Alistair” he sighs.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right” you quickly agree. You both know if the boy happens to either wake up in the middle of the night or get up before his father does, his dad’s room is the first place he’ll go and if he’s not there and finds him in your bed instead, well… neither of you were ready to go down that road with the boy just yet.

“I’m sorry Sweetheart, I wish…” he trails off, the thought unfinished but you hear it in his voice. You know he’d stay if he could.

“I know. It’s ok” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand at his side.

“I will make it up to you” he smiles and you know it’s a promise, one that brings a grin to your lips as you snuggle further into your bed.

“I’ll hold you to that mister”

“Good night Angel” Max tells you, dropping your hand and leaning down to place a kiss to your forehead before he pulls your covers up and places them over you.

“Night Mr. Lord” you smile cheekily and he huffs a laugh before he heads out of your room and you hear the door click shut behind him.

You’re asleep the moment your head nestles back into your pillow so you don’t hear the shower coming back to life from Max’s ensuite, either.

Next Chapter

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