#max lord x reader

[missyorkswhore]

Do you swipe right or left? Part l

Part ll here part lll here

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[absurdthirst]

Pretty Woman {Max Lord x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.6k

Warnings: Prostitution, sex work, mentions of drug use, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, protected sex, mentions of classicism and discrimination, anal sex, public sex, domestic violence, assault

Comments: A chance encounter on the boulevard has Max Lord paying to spend a night with you, then the week. Giving you an experience you never imagined.

A/N: Obviously based off Pretty Woman with Julia Roberts, but we did not add any physical descriptions of the reader beyond being able to wear clothing from Rodeo Drive

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Max Lord MasterList ||

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

The boulevard is busy tonight. Cars pass by but no one stops to pick you up. You sigh, reaching up to scratch your scalp under the itchy blonde bob wig you're wearing. Your feet are starting to ache in these ridiculous boots Kit gave you to wear. "We say what. We say who. We say how much." Kit reminds you as you stand on your corner and your head turns when a sports car comes along the street, the gears grinding. "Catch this." Kit says and your eyes widen, "that's a Lotus Esprit." You exclaim, watching the car come to a screeching stop. 

"No. That's rent. You should go for him." Kit says and you huff, "you look hot tonight. Don't take less than one hundred." She finishes, reminding you once again that your rent is due tonight. "Call me when you're through and take care of you." She says and you nod, adjusting your dress after you give her a hug. You take your jacket off, swaying your hips as Kit tells you to work it and you approach the car. 

"You can handle this." Max says to himself as he fiddles with the gearshift. 

"Hey sugar, you looking for a date?" You ask as you lean in the window. 

"No, I wanna find Beverly Hills, can you give me directions?" Max asks, clearly frustrated and you smother your smirk. 

"Sure....for five bucks." You say and Max scoffs, "that's ridiculous." 

You shrug, "price just went up to ten." Max looks at you incredulously, "you can't charge for directions." 

You chuckle, "I can do whatever I want baby, I ain't lost." You shift away from his window and he sighs, "fine. You got change for a twenty?" He asks and you shake your head as you get in the front seat. 

"For that, I can show you personally. This is a hot car. Uh, lights would be good." You tell him as he pulls away from the curb. He comes to a stop at the light and you can tell he's struggling to drive this car. "What's your name?" He asks you after telling you he did not steal the car. 

"What do you want it to be?" You ask and he turns to look at you with those dark eyes that seem to look through you. You sigh and give him your name. He tells you he's staying at the Beverly Wiltshire and you are impressed, giving him directions. "This car is amazing. Four cylinders and it rounds corners like it's on rails." You exclaim and Max looks at you, "you know about cars?" He asks and you shrug, "grew up around it at home. Mustangs...corvettes...they'd fix 'em up and sell 'em." You explain and the gears grind. 

"You ever driven a Lotus?" Max asks and you shake your head. "Well, you're going to now." He says and you're soon behind the drivers wheel. 

"These have pedals that are really close together so it's easier for a woman to drive." You tell him, "good for little feet. Did you know your foot is the length of your wrist to your elbow?" You ask Max who stares at you in amusement. 

"No, I didn't know that." He confesses, "tell me...what kind of money do you girls make nowadays?" Max asks. 

"No less than $100..." You say, "a night?" Max raises his eyebrows and you shake your head, "an hour." 

"An hour?" He asks, "you make $100 an hour and you got a safety pin holding your boot up? You gotta be joking." He snorts and you shrug, "I never joke about money." 

Max chuckles, "neither do I. $100 an hour is pretty stiff." He says and you smirk, sliding your hand into his lap to press your hand into his groin, "well, no, but it's got potential." You tease until you pull your hand back and focus on driving to the Wiltshire.

Max looks out over the city and his stomach twists with nerves and anticipation. He is here to make his mark, to take over a company that had once looked down on him, refused to do business with him. Now he is poised to take over. To dismantle it piece by piece as soon as the deal is done. Despite his thousand dollar suits and suite at the Beverly Wiltshire, he’s not as confident as he pretends to be. “How much for the night.” He asks suddenly, deciding that he will do better if he spends the night with a beautiful woman and you are that.

You smirk, looking over at him. "Honey, you couldn't afford me." He snorts, "try me." You squeeze the steering wheel, "three hundred." You tell him, knowing you need to pay your rent. 

Max mulls it over for a second before he nods, "done." 

You internally squeal, knowing Kit is gonna be so proud of you. You pull up outside of the hotel and he is greeted by the doorman. "Welcome, Mr. Lord." You are impressed and he glances at your dress, shrugging off his Burberry trench coat. 

"Put this on." He says and you frown, following his order. 

"Great. Now I look like a hooker in a trench coat." You joke and his eyes meet yours for a second before he's heading into the hotel. "Holy shit." You hiss in shock at the expensive decor. He checks in and orders champagne and strawberries for the room. "Ooo fancy." You coo, caressing his back and trying to ignore the stares of everyone in the lobby of the hotel. He is soon escorting you to the escalator and you notice the woman looking at you with disdain so you lift your leg up onto the silver trash can by the escalator. "Oh no, honey. I've torn my pantyhose." You huff and caress your thigh. "Oh wait...I'm not wearing them." You giggle, winking at the woman's husband before you lower your leg. The escalator doors open and you rush in, excited to see this hotel room.

Max tuts, smirking slightly at your moxie as he follows you inside. He’s decided that he likes you. You aren’t stiff and boring, just like his ex-wife accused him of being. Pressing the button for the penthouse, he watches your eyes widen dramatically. He doesn’t expect that your clients often take you to the penthouse. He watches you fidget, wondering what you will do with the three hundred dollars he is paying you. Hopefully it’s not for drugs.

When the elevator arrives, the bellboy watches you as you walk down the hall to the double doors and Max turns to look at him, eyebrows raised, until the young man's face falls and he straightens up. Max unlocks the door and you walk in, mouth open as you take in the lavish suite. "Impressed?" He asks and you shrug, "you kidding me? I come here all the time. As a matter of fact, they do rent this room by the hour." You tease him, walking out onto the balcony. "I bet you could see all the way to ocean from here." You exclaim and Max sits down at the desk, "come inside." He tells you, "I don't go out there." 

You frown as you walk in, setting your purse down on the sofa. "Why not?" You ask and he sighs, "I'm afraid of heights." You snort, "then why'd you get the penthouse?" 

Max straightens up a little, "it's the best." He declares and you nod, confused by his desire to have 'the best of everything' and yet he hired you for the night. 

"Now that I'm here...what do you want to do?" You ask, biting your lip and he sighs, "I - I don't really know." You are surprised by this. Most men would've already been having a smoke after getting their orgasm over with. You sit down on the sofa, "well...one way to break the ice is to pay me." You tell him and he nods, reaching into his jacket for his pocket book and he pulls out three one hundred dollar notes. You move to sit down on the edge of his desk and take the cash, shoving it in your boot. 

"You're on my fax." Max tells you and you chuckle tilting to the side so he can pull the paper out from under your ass, "well that's one I haven't been on before." You unzip your boot, pulling out the condoms you keep there. "Right. Pick one. I got red, I got blue. I'm out of purple. I have one gold coin left. The condom of champions. Nothing getting through this sucker." You flick it and lean closer to him. 

He stands up and you reach for his jacket. "Right, let's get one of these on you?" You suggest and he shakes his head, "why don't we just talk for a bit?" You click your tongue, "talk. Yeah, uh, okay. Max...are you in town for business or pleasure?" You ask, watching him sit down on the sofa and you move to straddle him but he moves so you sit down on the ottoman. "I think you're a lawyer." You guess, crossing your arms and leaning forward to let him see your cleavage.

His eyes flicker down to your chest and he can’t help the way his cock twitches in his suit trousers. “Business.” He answers. “Not a lawyer, lawyers are bloodsucking bastards.” He huffs, rolling his eyes at how much his team of lawyers costs him per hour.

You giggle, reaching out to caress his thighs as he reclines against the sofa. “Ain’t that the truth.” You say just as the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. Make myself useful.” You stand up and walk over to the door. The hotel worker is surprised when his eyes trail down your dress and he asks where you want the champagne. “Where do we want it?” You ask Max. 

“On the bar.” He says and the man carries it over. He stands there after he sets it down and stares at you expectedly. 

“What you looking at?” You ask and Max sighs, standing up and pulling a note out of his pocket. “Here.” Max says and the man nods, “thank you sir.” He exits the door and Max comes over to pop the champagne.

“Oh.” It’s cute, the way you deflate slightly when you realize you had been a little overzealous in your attitude towards the bellboy. “Here.” He pours a flute of champagne and hold it out to you. “Have it with a strawberry.”

You frown, “why?” You take a large gulp of the champagne before you bite on the strawberry. 

“Just relax. I got some work to do.” He says and walks over to the desk. You frown at his retreating form and you sit down and grab the tv remote. You turn it on to an old episode of “I love Lucy” and you lay down on your stomach with the strawberries and champagne.

Max looks up from the report and smiles as he watches you. You’re kicking your feet and laughing like a little kid. It’s sweet and you don’t seem like a woman of the night, even with your provocative dress on. It’s honestly a joy to watch you and he has to tear himself away to look back down at the report.

You giggle at the show until Max tells you he’s done with his work. “So…you wanna keep talking?” You ask Max after you sit down on the sofa beside him. He stares at you for a second, his dark eyes burning into you in a way you’ve never felt before, and he slowly shakes his head. He leans in towards you but you pull back, “I have one rule. I don’t kiss.” You tell him and he nods. “Tell me what you like.” You demand softly, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

“I don’t really know.” Max admits softly. He knows you are more experienced, you have sex for a living. “What do you like? For yourself?” He knows that he will cum no matter what, but he would like to learn something that maybe he doesn’t know. Which wouldn’t be hard to do.

You’re surprised. No one ever asks you that. You never ever expect to cum or receive pleasure. You’re here to do a job. To make him feel good. “I, uh, I like to ride. I like to feel a little in control.” You confess, knowing that most men want to fuck you from behind to make them feel powerful.

“Okay.” He nods seriously, thinking about how he feels about that. “Then ride me.” He decides. “You choose the condom you’re comfortable with, and you can decide how fast you go.”

You nod, taking the gold condom from your boot before you pull them to the side, taking off your socks as well. He watches you, making no moves, and you decide to make this good for him. You set your boots aside and place the condom on the coffee table, grabbing a cushion from the sofa, you kneel between his legs and rub the bulge in his expensive slacks. “I want to suck your cock first.”

He’s surprised that you want to do that, his cock twitching in interest. “You don’t have to.” He promises. “I’m not- it’s not- you want to?” He is a little breathless at the prospect.

You nod, reaching for his Gucci belt buckle to undo it and you unbutton his pants. “Wanna make you feel good.” You murmur as you reach in to pull his hard cock out of his pants. He’s thick and your mouth waters as you lean in to lick a stripe along the underside.

“Oh fuck.” Max chokes out, his head dropping back against the sofa cushions and his eyes close. Your tongue is hot and wet against his cock and makes his stomach twist in pleasure. “Do you- do you like doing this?” He pants out quietly, a little more of his accent slipping out involuntarily.

You pull back, wrapping your fingers around him. “I don’t do this.” You confess, “I- I wanted to do this for you.” It’s true. You never allow oral but you want to do this for him after he’s shown you such a good time already. “I love doing this baby.” You coo, taking his head into your mouth and keeping your eyes on his.

Max groans, twitching in your mouth and biting his lip so he doesn’t grab your head. You are the one setting the pace and he finds it intoxicating. You are so pretty looking up at him with his cock in your mouth. “So pretty.” He praises. “It’s so good, baby, you’re so good to me.”

His slight accent has you getting wet and you moan around him, loving the way he groans and praises you. Your hands caress his thighs, still clad in a designer suit, but you take his cock a little deeper. Your spit combined with his pre-cum dribbling into the material. You moan around him, closing your eyes as you widen your jaw and breathe through your nose.

“It’s been so- so fucking long since I’ve had this.” Max moans out the confession, sure that it’s the best fucking blow job he’s ever had. “You gotta- gotta stop.” He pants out. “Gonna cum if you don’t.” His cock throbs and he wants nothing more than to spill down your throat but he wants you to ride him. He wants to feel your cunt around his cock.

You pull off of him, letting him decide what his body needs, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before you stand up. Your eyes meeting his as you slowly begin to remove your clothes, wanting to give him a show when he’s paying a lot of money for you. You tease, turning around and bending over as you remove your panties, his dark eyes fixed on your body as his chest heaves. When you turn around, you move to straddle his lap and lean in to run your nose along his jaw.

Max hums, still nearly completely dressed with just his slacks opened and his cock pulled out. It’s slightly sexier this way, with you naked on top of him. His hands are hovering over your hips for a few moments before he touches you. Groaning out loud when he grips your flesh and realizes this is actually going to happen.

You reach out to grab the condom, opening the foil packet and you pinch the tip before you work it down his cock. “Shit. You’re so thick.” You murmur, admiring him for a second before you move closer, lifting up to notch him at your entrance. You slowly sink down onto him, your eyes on his face as you take him inside of you for the first time.

“Shiiiiiiiit” Max hisses, loving how tight you are as you slide down his cock. Taking him deep until your ass is against his thighs. He twitches deep inside your hot walls and he grits his teeth to keep from moving. “Holy shit, baby. You’re so tight. So hot.”

You watch him struggle with the need to take over. You can tell he’s used to being in control. You love the strain in his jaw as you start to slowly lift off of him. The slight whine that escapes his clenched teeth as you lift up until only the tip remains inside of you, then you slowly sink back down. “You can touch me, baby.” You remind him, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” He slides his hands over your hips and up to cup your tits. “You are so- so tight.” He groans. “Are you going to ride me or tease me?” He demands with a pout, groaning again when you clench down around him. He’s so close to cumming already and you’ve barely started riding him.

You tut, reaching up to grab his cheeks, “I’m in control of pace, remember?” You remind him, clenching around him again and he almost whimpers. Fuck, it’s intoxicating to have a man like him, powerful and rich, whimper for you. You take pity after a second, shifting to grab his shoulders for leverage as you start to move on top of him.

Max nearly whimpers again when you slowly roll your hips, your cunt locking down around him like a vice. You’re gorgeous and your mouth watering tits are in his face. “Can I suck on them?” He asks you desperately, wanting to touch you and make you feel as good as he does.

You nod, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair, dragging his face to your chest. You moan when he wraps his lips around your nipple, biting down softly and you move your hips a little faster, loving the way he stretches him out.

It’s been a long fucking time since he’s fucked anyone and even longer than that since someone ridden him. He loves it though. For a moment, he pretends that you aren’t being paid and you want him. His cock twitches every time he sucks on your tit and it’s only when it’s hard and puffy does he switch over to the other.

Usually, you barely react to sex. It’s a job. Something to pay your rent and you’ve perfected the art of moans and whimpers to make the man paying you cum quicker. Tonight though, you’re in no rush. Max’s hands caress your back and his lips suck on your nipple, making you whimper and throw your head back. It’s the best you’ve felt having sex in so long. He’s thick and you feel him in places that seemed forgotten with your other clients. The control you have is intoxicating and you rock your hips a little faster, trying to find that spot that makes you cum.

Max groans into your flesh, his hands sliding down to your ass and squeezing. He doesn’t try to guide you, just rolls with your movement as he lavishes attention on your breasts. Enjoying it so much more that he had before because of the moans you give him. You’re incredible and you don’t make him feel inadequate.

“Fuck.” You hiss and grind forward, adjusting the angle and you moan at the way his cock hits just right inside of you. You bounce a little faster, “oh God. I- I’m gonna cum.” You confess breathlessly. You never orgasm with a customer. Most just rut into you until they cum a minute later but Max has you shaking above him.

“Don’t fake.” He begs, not wanting you to pretend like his ex wife claimed she did all throughout their marriage. “Want you to really cum for me.”

“Not- not faking.” You promise and reach for his hand, bringing it to your clit. “Rub.” You demand breathlessly and he wastes no time rubbing your clit. It’s perfect. The angle and his touch. You rock a half dozen more times until you cry out, clamping down on his cock and you moan his name.

Max chokes out a moan, Finding you completely gorgeous as you shake apart for him. Your cunt is like a vice around him and he’s not going to be able to hold out. “Fuck, baby.” He hisses, leaning forward and burying his mouth against your pulse to keep from kissing you as he starts to fill the condom.

You moan as he cums, caressing his shoulders and back, and you rock him through it. “So good, baby. So good.” You murmur as he groans into your skin.

You weren’t faking, you couldn’t have faked that. Max moans into your skin, sighing softly when he relaxes. “Fuck.” He pants, still breathing you in. Your perfume is surprisingly bright and clean and he enjoys it. “That was amazing.”

You are pleased he’s happy. Reaching down to grip the base of his cock before you lift off of him, slumping down on the sofa as you try to catch your breath. You haven’t had an orgasm in so long and you turn to look at Max. “Satisfied, Mr. Lord?” You ask teasingly.

Max hums, still blissful from his orgasm. “Call me Max.” He murmurs. “I think that I might actually sleep tonight.” His hand slides over to stroke your thigh. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You nod, “I did. It’s rare that I do but there’s something about you.” You admit, placing your hand on his. “Well, I’ll get my clothes.” You say but his grip on your thigh tightens. 

“Don’t go yet. I paid for the night. Stay. Have a shower.” He offers and you nod, knowing it will be hard to get home this late.

Max tucks himself away and settles back down with another report while you go into the bathroom. After a few minutes he hears the water start and then some singing. Making him pause and listen for a minute before he starts to grin. It’s off key and pitch, but enthusiastic. Making him shake his head as he looks back down.

You sing in the shower, cleaning off until you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. “I, uh, I don’t really have anything to wear.” You tell him as you glance at your tiny dress and he nods, standing up and making his way over to his closet to open it and take a white shirt out. “Here you go.” He says and you drop the towel, shrugging on his shirt and buttoning it up. “Thank you.” You wink at him and make your way over to the champagne bucket to pour another glass for each of you.

There something about having you here. Just your presence is nice, different from the austere penthouse. He’s not lonely. You turn the tv back to another older show and bring both of the glasses over to where he is sitting and plop down beside him.

You giggle as you watch the show while he looks over his reports again until you are closing your eyes in exhaustion. "Sleep." Max orders, jerking his chin towards the bedroom. You nod, stumbling into the bedroom and Max pulls the covers over you as you settle into the ridiculously soft bed. Max doesn't get in beside you, he closes the door and gets back to his reports, deciding to shower after you're asleep. You huff as the wig you've been wearing all night - even in the shower- digs into you so you grab it from your head and toss it on the chair, pulling off the hair net to let your hair free. You sigh as you settle back in and are soon passed out in a place you never expected to sleep.

It’s after two in the morning when Max decides to go to bed. Showering and then changing into fresh boxers, he stops when he sees you laying in the bed. The short blonde wig was obvious just that, but your natural hair is beautiful. You look so serene, sleeping on your stomach facing the empty side of the bed. As if you are waiting on him. He smiles softly as he climbs in beside you and turns to watch you sleep until his own eyes close.

When you wake up, the sunlight is shining through the curtains and you get up to pee and use some of his toothpaste to freshen your breath. Your hair is a mess but you try to fix it as you walk out into the living area in his shirt. "Hi." You say to Max as he is sitting at the table with his back to you. 

He turns to look at you and nods, "good morning." You run your hands along your sides and bite your lip, "I, uh, wig." You point at your hair and Max smiles softly, "I like it." Your heart thumps at that but you push it aside, "I can get my clothes and go." You say but Max shakes his head, "come sit down. Have some breakfast. I, uh, I didn't know what you like so I got one of everything." He lifts the silver lids up and your eyes widen. "Wow. Thanks." You reach out to pick up a croissant and he picks up his reports. "So Max. You aren't a lawyer...what exactly is it you do?"

“Merger and acquisitions.” Max tells you, folding his newspaper over and smirking at you. “I make money.”

“Right. That explains everything.” You snort sarcastically. “So you’re smart, huh?” You ask and he looks at you. “I didn’t finish eleventh grade.” You confess, “how much school did you do?” You ask him and he tilts his head, “I went all the way.” Your eyebrows raise but you’re not really shocked. He seems smart. “Wow. Good for you. So what are you in town working on now?” You ask and he sighs, “I’m working on acquiring a company for a billion dollars and -” 

You choke at hearing the figure. “One - one billion?” You ask and he nods. “Oh God. That’s - you really are smart. So you get the company and then what?” You ask, ever curious. 

“I buy it and then break it apart. Sell off the assets for more money than I bought the company for.” He explains, “I wasn’t this successful when I got started. Had a lot of fuck ups but I have learned along the way.” 

You gesture to the suite, “clearly.” He stands up, “I’m going to get ready.” He says and you watch him go and change into his suit. He comes out ten minutes later in a bespoke suit but he’s struggling with his tie. You walk over to him to help and soon perfect a Windsor knot. “How do you know how to do this?” He inquires, his dark eyes on yours. 

You smirk, “I screwed the whole debate team.” He chuckles and you wink at him. “My grandpa was a sweet man and he’d go to church so I’d help him with his tie.” You tell him the truth and he nods, reaching behind you to grab his briefcase. “Can I have a bath before I leave?” Max nods and you smile, kissing his cheek before you disappear into the bathroom and the phone rings.

It’s Max’s assistant, informing him that the owners of the company have invited him to some functions while he is in town. Frowning, he remembers that he cannot show up to these functions without a date, he had told James Morse that he had been in a relationship and Jessica had broken up with him because he was always working. To be fair, he had just spent a month away dismantling another company and hadn’t seen her in nearly forty-five days. The singing in the bathroom had started up again, this time it sounds like you are skinning a cat and he grins, telling his secretary to accept the invitations on his behalf and a date. Hanging up, he walks into the bathroom to find you have drawn a bubble bath and have headphones on as you screech along. Chuckling, he stands next to the tub and waits for you to notice him.

You continue singing until you open one eye and see Max perched on the edge of the tub. You throw the headphones for the walkman on the side and internally groan in embarrassment. "Mr. Lord." You greet him, trying to act cool, "Don't you just love Prince?" You grin and he shakes his head. 

"More than life itself." You shake your head, "don't you knock?" 

Max sighs and says your name, "I have a business proposition for you." You ask him what he wants. "I am going to be in town until Sunday and I'd like you to spend the week with me." 

You grin, unable to believe your luck. "Why? You're a rich man. Handsome. You could have anyone... for free." You add and he shakes his head, "I want a professional. I don't want romantic entanglements." You chew the inside of your cheek for a second, "as much as I'd love to be your beck and call girl, it's gonna cost you." You hum and he leans closer, "How much?" 

You tap your chin, "six-night, the days too...$4000." 

His eyebrows raise, "at $300 a night, it's $1800." He tells you and you shrug, "days too." He sighs, "$2000." 

You shake your head, "$3000." Max nods, "deal." Your eyes widen and you can't help but sink under the bubbles, unable to believe your luck.

Max smirks as he watches you do a little dance under the water and then immediately come back up. “Yes! Yes.” You gasp out, wiping the soapy bubbles from your face. “I’m your girl.” 

He chuckles. “Good, now, I’m going to need you to go get a cocktail dress. Something nice. These are important people and I want you to look the part.” He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a money clip, peeling crisp hundred dollar bills off until he feels like you have enough, about $1200 dollars and holds it out to you.

Your eyes widen as you stare in shock at the money in your hands. "What do you want me to get?" You ask, climbing out of the bath and following him as he rushes through the penthouse, getting his jacket and briefcase. 

"Classy. Not too sexy. Elegant." He says and you roll your eyes, "boring then." He nods, walking over to the door, "go shopping. Have fun." You nod and watch him go, the door shutting behind him and you rush into the bedroom, squealing in delight at your luck. 

Eventually you calm down and call Kit, giving her the good news. You ask her where to go shopping and she says, "one place in Beverly Hills...Rodeo Drive." You tell her you're leaving the rent money at the desk and you get ready, making your way downstairs to leave the money and you head over to Rodeo Drive.

The boutique that you walk into is obviously expensive and the workers there are immediately suspicious of you. “Oh my god.” Cordelia whispers to her co-worker. “A prostitute just walked into our store, can you believe it?” She purses her lips and continues to go through the clothes on the rack even though you are asking for help.

You ask her about the clothes on the mannequin, at a complete loss of what to do in a store like this. “How much is this?” You ask and she lightly scoffs under her breath. 

“It’s very expensive.” She says, “I don’t think it would fit.” 

You huff, “I didn’t ask if it would fit, I asked how much.” 

She sighs, looking at her colleague, “I don’t think we have anything in here that would work for you.” She says and your stomach drops. You feel sick. You swallow back the tears and rush out of the store. Making your way back into the hotel, you get accosted by the manager, asking you who you’re here to see. “Maxwell Lord.” You tell him and his eyes widen, looking at the bellboy who confirms you are staying in the penthouse. 

“Come this way.” He says, escorting you to his office. “This isn’t your usual hotel, Miss. This is the Beverly Wiltshire. This is a fine establishment and we don’t have women like you staying here.” You nod, feeling reprimanded but you won’t be defeated, not with $3000 on the line. “Mr. Lord, however, is a valued customer and he spends a lot of money here. We can overlook your…occupation for his sake. If anyone asks, you’re his niece. Understood?” He says, eyes burning into you and you nod. 

“Yes sir.” The manager nods, “now, Mr. Lord has a reservation at our restaurant tonight and I’d assume you’re attending with him. Do you have anything else to wear?” He asks and you shake your head. 

“I went to Rodeo and they were so rude. They treated me like trash. I- I don’t have anything else.” You pull out the money Max had given you. “I have all this money and no dress.” 

The manager nods, picking up his phone. “Women’s department, Bridget please.” He asks and waits for a brief moment. “Ah yes, Marie. I have a situation that would benefit from your expertise. I need someone to bring over a black cocktail dress for one of our guests for dinner with her uncle. Yes, black heels. A clutch. Also, send one of your girls for hair and makeup.” He says before he puts down the phone. You’re astonished and he claps his hands. “Now, let’s get you to the room and they will be here soon for you to get ready for dinner.” You nod, letting him escort you through the hotel and back to your room.

A knock on the door comes soon enough and a primly dress woman in a pencil skirt and a silk white blouse is at the door. “Hello!” She smiles brightly at you, her expression never changing when she sees your provocative dress. “My name’s Bridget.” She holds out her hand and you shake it. 

“Yeah, hi. Barney said you’d be nice to me.” 

Bridget blushes slightly at the mention of the hotel manager. “He’s very sweet.” You hum and she moves on. “What are your plans while you are in town?” You cross your arms over your chest nervously. “I’m gonna have dinner.” 

She nods. “Then you need a cocktail dress. I’ve pulled a section of dresses that will be perfect. I’m sure that you’ll find something that your uncle will love.” There is a rack in the hall that is loaded down with dresses and she moves to bring it inside. Correctly guessing your size, she asks you to confirm it. Your eyes widen in amazement. “Yeah. How did you know that?” 

Bridget smiles. “Well, that’s my job.” She replies easily, having to accurately guess women’s sizes all day long. 

“Bridge?” You bite your lip. “He’s not really my uncle.” You confess. 

“They never are, dear.” She assures you.

****

You tap your fingers on the bar in the lounge as you wait for Max, he’s late. You would order a drink but you’re terrified to do something wrong at dinner. To mess up the cutlery order that Mr. Thompson had so willingly taught you. You don’t notice Max enter the lounge until he’s nearly leaving again. You turn your head to look at him just as he meets your eyes and you smile, hoping he likes your new outfit.

Max is astonished. The transformation is nearly unbelievable. You look every inch the sophisticated woman with your cocktail dress, your hair and makeup styled elegantly. He smiles slightly, unable to believe that he gets to escort such a beautiful woman to dinner, despite it being a business transaction. Watching as you gather your clutch and walk over to meet him. “You’re late.” You tease and he is quick to reply. 

“You’re stunning.” He means it, but you giggle slightly. 

“You’re forgiven. 

Max hums and turns to offer his arm like a gentleman. “Shall we go to dinner?”

**** 

“Mr. Morse. It’s great to meet you.” Max greets the older man, “great to meet you. This is my grandson. He’s a fireball. David.” He gestures to the younger man who seems embarrassed by his grandfather. Max introduces you as his friend and you shake both men’s hands. The chair is pulled out for you and you move to sit down until you decide to stand again. All three men stand and Max asks where you’re going. 

“I’m going to the ladies room.” You tell him and he tells you where to go. 

“Shall I order for you?” He asks and you immediately respond, “yeah” until you remember yourself. “Yes. Please do so.” You correct yourself and walk off to the bathroom.

Max can see every man’s eyes at the table on you. Proud of the choice he had made in bringing you here. “She’s charming, isn’t she?” He asks before the three of them order. When you come back, the first course is being served and David is talking to Max. “Mr. Lord, my grandfather believes the men who create a company should control its destiny.” You look down at the plate and then lean over towards Max. 

“Where’s the salad?” You ask quietly. 

Max turns his attention to you. “The salad comes at the end of the meal.”

You stare at the forks, trying to count the tines and the elder Morse leans in, “I never know which one to use.” He chuckles and you follow his lead when he picks up the toast with pâté. The next course is snails. “Escargot.” Max explains, “they’re a delicacy. Try them.” 

You look at the tongs and frown, trying to figure it out until one flings across the room and the waiter catches it. “Slippery little suckers.” You joke “Happens all the time.” He tells you and you fluster. 

The sorbet is next and the conversation heats up between the men. Max reveals that his father died recently and you bite your lip. You watch Max as he clenches his jaw, clearly used to getting what he wants but so is the younger Morse who stands up and leaves, followed by his grandfather. You look at Max who huffs, deciding to pour another glass of wine. Back in the hotel, you decide to admire the view and sit on the balcony. Max joins you a few moments later, rid of his jacket and tie. “I’m sorry about your dad.” You murmur and he sighs, rubbing his jaw. 

“He died last month.” He tells you and you want to comfort him, to make him feel better. Something you haven’t felt in so long. “Haven’t talked to him in fourteen years.” He reveals, staring down at the whiskey in his hand. He hadn’t even attended the funeral, never wished to. He had meant what he said when he said that he never wanted to see the old bastard again. 

You give him a small ‘oh’ and are silent for a minute. “We could just veg out.” You suggest and Max frowns as he looks up at you in confusion. “Sit around and watch tv.” You explain with a grin. “Lay like broccoli.” He snorts and shakes his head before drowning the rest of his drink. “I’ll be back.” He tells you, setting the glass down and walking to the penthouse door quietly.

You huff as he leaves and decide to veg out by yourself. You rub your eyes as the movie ends, Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant kissing and you glance over at the clock. It’s three in the morning. “Where the hell is he?” You mumble, standing up and wrapping the robe around yourself. You ask the bellboy where Max is and he escorts you through the lobby to the event room. The sounds of the piano echo through the room and a few men are listening him. You’re in awe. You walk over to him when he finishes, clapping softly. “I didn’t know you could play.” You say like you haven’t only known him for two days. “I don’t play in front of people I know.” He explains and you rub his shoulders. 

“You should.” You murmur, leaning down to kiss his neck. His hand finds yours on his shoulder and he guides you around so you’re between his legs. 

“Can you give us the room, fellas?” He asks and the men soon vacate the room. Your eyes meet his as his hands grab your waist, caressing it and your breath hitches at the way he looks at you.

There’s something about you. It’s thrilling and comforting all at the same time. He pushes you up, your ass hitting the keys and he doesn’t smirk like he normally would. Fingers reaching for your robe, and he slowly unties it to pull past and see what you are wearing under it. “Eyes on me.”

You fix your eyes on him, unable to disobey, and he runs his hands up your body, admiring the black silk you're wearing. He grabs your ass and lifts you up onto the top of the piano, your feet hitting the keys as he stands to settle between your legs. His lips seem to gravitate towards yours and you turn your head at the last second, knowing it's not a good idea to kiss him. You're already too involved. His lips find your neck and you whimper when he pushes the nightie up your body, exposing your panties. His nose runs along your stomach, pressing kisses on the skin, teasing you. "Max." You plead softly, needing to feel more.

“I’m going to eat you out.” He decides. “Right here in the lounge of the hotel.” He’s hard and throbbing, but right now, he wants to take you apart. Leaning down even more, his nose presses to your panties and he inhales your intoxicating scent. “When was the last time a man feasted on your cunt?”

You gasp at the way he presses his nose just against your clit. “A long time ago. Clients - they don’t - they don’t do that.” You admit, most just want to get straight to fucking you. It’s not romantic or drawn out. Usually they cum in less than a dozen thrusts and you take your money and go. He hooks his fingers in your panties, “I want to taste you.” He says and you whimper when he drags your underwear down and your ass hits the lacquer of the piano.

His ex-wife had bemoaned his oral skills, claiming that all the talent in his tongue was left in the board room. Not matter how many hours he had spent between her thighs, it was never right and he had eventually given up. However, he wants to see what you think of him. More than that, he just wants to give. Give you things that you haven’t had lately. Forget everything but the way you taste and sound. His fingers pull apart your lips and he groans at the sight of your clit before he leans forward and laps at it with his tongue.

God his tongue feels so good. You moan when he flicks your clit and his mouth covers you. His tongue sliding down to push inside of you and you pant, “Max.” You reach down to tangle your fingers in his air, intoxicated by him already.

He doesn’t think about what he is doing, just focusing on the way that you sound. Groaning into your flesh and squeezing your hips as he drags you closer to taste you more deeply.

It’s scandalous. Him eating you out on a piano in the middle of a hotel lounge and you moan as he takes his time. Most of the time, men only do this to make sure you’re wet enough but Max seems so eager to make you cum. You moan his name as he laps at you and you don’t know how he’s so good at this and unable to get a girlfriend. You moan again, lifting your leg onto his calf as he sucks on your clit. “Oh fuck.” You cry, getting so close already.

Your skin is so soft, fingers digging into the supple areas that he can grab. Dark eyes on your blissed out face as he drags you closer to the edge. Pulling away from your clit to run a figure eight around it with his tongue, he rasps out “cum” before he sucks it back into his mouth to pull on harshly.

You can’t deny him. Fuck, you can’t deny him anything. You moan his name as you rock your hips up towards his mouth and you fall apart on his tongue. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You cry out as you cum on his face.

It’s the best dessert that he’s ever had, tangy and thick when he moves his tongue down to lap up the fruits of his labor while you shake apart for him.

You pant as you look up at the ornate ceiling of the hotel. The intricate decor almost blurs as you stare at it and you run through fingers through his hair until you’re pushing him away when it becomes too much. “Fuck baby. So good.” You murmur, “there’s a condom in my robe if you want to.” You say, unsure if he wants to fuck you here or go upstairs.

He too worked up to take you upstairs. Digging into your robe to grab the condom, he surges to his feet and fumbles with his belt as he rushes to sink into you.

You sit up on your elbows as he rolls the condom down his length and you moan when he notches himself at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. “Fuck Max.” You moan, reaching for his hand when he pushes deep inside of you.

He moans your name quietly, his thighs bumping the keeps as he tries to get as deep as he possibly can. “Warp your legs around me,” he begs quietly. “Hold onto me.”

You nod, wrapping your legs around him and you shift to sit up, gripping his shoulders the new angle makes you gasp as he starts to move inside of you. “Oh God.” You pant as he curves just right inside of you like this. “Fuck me.” You demand, leaning down to kiss along his neck. Biting down on his ear lobe, “feel so big inside of me.” You murmur, meaning every word.

Max groans, aware that you probably tell every guy you’re with that, but he pretends you mean it. You’re kissing along his next and squeezing his cock with your tight little cunt, making him forget everything as he rocks into you. “Fuck.” He hisses softly. “So beautiful, so tight around me.” He praises.

You rock your hips up to meet his, your hands caressing his back as he pushes deep inside of you. “Fuck baby. Max. Feel so good.” You moan as your nails lightly scratch his back. “Want you to feel good after you made me feel so good.”

Max shudders, aware that anyone could walk in and watch him fucking you, but he doesn’t care. Or maybe it’s that he wishes they would. That they would see that he’s pleasuring such a beautiful woman. “You do, you do.” He pants out. “Feels so good.”

You keep him close, your legs wrapped around him as he pushes deep, slow but precise. “Max. God, that - that’s it.” You pant and he reaches down to rub your clit. You’re so close. Still worked up from your previous orgasm, it doesn’t take you long until you’re clamping down on his cock. Your cry echoing in the empty function room covered in gilded gold.

“That’s it, cum for me.” He hisses, loving the unrestrained way you cry out for him. Letting anyone nearby know that he is making you feel good. His throats turn sloppy, pace faltering as he starts to chase his own release. Groaning your name as he slaps his hips against your once more and presses deep, his body shaking as he empties himself into the condom.

You watch him as he cums, loving how tight his body gets. Jaw clenched and eyes fluttering shut as you get a glimpse into the one and only moment Maxwell Lord relaxes. “That’s it baby. So good.” You murmur, caressing his upper back as you continue to watch him.

When he pulls out of you carefully, his hands are pulling your robe closed so no one could see you even before he's slipping off the condom. Tying it in a knot and tossing it in a trashcan near the piano, he offers you his hand to help you down. "We should sleep." He murmurs, seeing how tired you are after your orgasm.

You nod, letting Max help you off of the piano with shaking legs and you’re soon back in the room. The same as the night before, you get ready for bed and he goes off to review a report, leaving you to fall asleep alone. 

**** 

The next morning, you come out of the room to find Max reading the newspaper. “Good morning.” You greet him, leaning in to kiss his cheek and he hums a good morning to you. “What’s the plan for today?” You ask and he smiles at you, “shopping.” You groan, “no. I- I went yesterday and they were so mean to me.”

Max frowns and folds over his paper, “mean to you? What do you mean?” He demands, his frown deepening even more as you explain and he shakes his head. “Get dressed.” He decides. “I’m coming with you.” 

****

He doesn’t let you pull your hand out of his. Dressed in your outfit you wore the night you met, your heels from last night and one of his dress shirts, you look sexy. The limo driver drops you off on Rodeo drive, he chooses one of the most expensive looking boutiques to walk into. 

“Hello, how may we-“ the worker starts her spiel but Max just cuts her off. 

“We are looking to spend an obscene amount of money.” He declares. “Very obscene. So we are looking to be sucked up to.” He smirks as he looks over at you and winks as he pulls out his Amex card and hands it to you. The one that has no limit. 

“How obscene sir?” The manager asks greedily and Max smirks, “very. Make sure she gets what she wants.” He gestures over to you as you stand admiring the dresses shown to you. Max comes over and takes your hand, “I have a meeting to go to but I’ll see you later.” He says, kissing the back of your hand. You want to pout but instead you nod, letting him go. When he leaves, you try on more clothes than you’ve ever owned, pick out lingerie and nighties. You stare at the man holding a pair of shoes and you see his tie. “Max would love that.” You point to it and the a manager snaps his fingers, “your tie.” He demands and the man takes his tie off to hand it to you. 

You leave the store dressed to the nines and you carry the bags as you make your way back to the store you went in the day before. “Hi, you refused to help me yesterday.” You say to the woman and she frowns until her eyes widen. “You work on commission?” You ask her and she nods. You hold up your bags, “big mistake. Big. Huge.” You tell them before you leave with a massive smirk on your face, unable to believe how on top of the world you feel as you make your way back to the hotel.

Max opens the door to the suite, briefcase in hand and expecting to find you opening dozens of boxes and bags from your shopping excursion. Instead, he finds you sitting at the table, wearing nothing but a tie and your heels. He smirks, setting down the case on the table and stepping closer to you. “That’s a nice tie.” He muses, admiring the way it sits between your tits.

You smirk at him as he walks in and freezes and you slowly uncross your legs, spreading them so he can see your cunt. “I got it for you today.” You coo, reaching down to squeeze your breast. “Thought it would look good on you.” You wink at him and slide your hand lower until you’re rubbing your clit, showing him how wet you are for him.

“Looks…expensive.” He banters and you shoot him a smirk.

“All yours for the low, low price of three thousand dollars.” You tease, reminding him and yourself of how much money he is paying you to stay with him. “Yes, a very expensive tie.” He strides forward and wraps his hand around the silk pinstripe tie, the back of his knuckles dragging over your breasts. “I think it might be my new favorite.”

You smirk up at him, “yeah? Maybe you can wear it tomorrow…after I’m done with it. Might have to take it off though if you want to fuck me hard…maybe fuck my ass?” You ask, biting your lip as you think of the lube you got from the pharmacy on the way back from shopping.

His eyes widen and he glances down at your beautiful cunt and then back at your face. “You want that?” He asks hoarsely, cock twitching. “I’ve never- no one has, um, wanted that. So I don’t know what you would want to get ready for me.”

You giggle at the way he seems flustered. Unused to seeing him like this when you know he’s so stoic in his business. You bite your lip as you lower your leg from the table and stand up to walk over to him. “I have lube. I have thought about this all afternoon so I have, uh, fingered myself open for you. Just need your gorgeous fingers to make sure I’m ready for you and then I have lube so you can fuck me. Want you to experience it with me.” You murmur, caressing his cheek as you stand naked before him bar the tie.

“On your back or your stomach?” He asks, cupping your tits immediately and squeezing them. “What is comfortable for you? What do you like? How did you imagine me fucking you?”

“On my back. I want to watch you.” You tell him as he pinches your nipples and you gasp out his name. “I want to watch your first time doing this.” You say and you pull a condom out from the flap at the back of the tie. “You ready, Mr. Lord?” You smirk, knowing you’ll be wet from him fucking you like this.

“Bedroom.” Max growls out, snatching the condom out of your hand and resisting the urge to grab the tie to drag you closer for a kiss. Reminding himself that he cannot kiss you, it was your one stipulation. He’s eager to experience this, to show you that he can learn new things. “Get your lube.”

You grab the bottle of lube from the side and you rush into the bedroom, loving how animalistic he is. You fling the tie off and throw it down on the chair as you lay down on the bed. “Get undressed Max.” You order, wanting to watch him strip out of his suit.

Max obeys your order, watching you as he starts to strip his suit off. Your greedy eyes make him feel desirable, wanted. It seems like you truly want him. He unpins his cuffs and slowly starts to unbutton his shirt. "Touch yourself." He orders. "Show me how you prepared yourself for me today."

You spread your legs, laying down to lift your ass into the air a little and you slide your fingers through your wet folds, gathering your arousal before you slide them lower to gently push into your ass, showing him how you’ve opened yourself up as you begin to work your fingers in and out.

“Oh fuck.” Max groans, eyes fixed on your ass as you start to finger yourself. “I should have been here for this.” He shrugs out of his shirt and works his belt open. “I would have jerked off.”

You moan at the thought, “you were busy working. Didn’t want to disturb you. You told me to never answer the phone and I assume that means making calls too.” You tell him and he pushes his pants down along with his briefs to expose his hard cock. “God, baby. Your cock is so gorgeous.” You murmur, “want your fingers first. Work me open a little more.” You say and reach for the lube you threw down on the bed.

“I can work you open more.” He promises, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping it as he kneels on the bed. “Don’t want to hurt you. Want you to feel good. Can you cum from having your ass fucked, or is my pretty girl gonna rub her little clit while I fuck you?”

You whimper, “need to rub my clit to cum.” You tell him and he nods, shifting to kneel on the bed and he pulls your fingers from inside of you. “Lube baby.” He orders and you grab the bottle, squirting some onto his fingers so he can replace your digits with his own. When he does, your head tilts back at the stretch and you moan his name.

You’re gorgeous as he stretches you out on his fingers. Pushing deep inside a hole he had never expected to be in. Scissoring his fingers to work you more as you start to grind down on him, “you like that? Does it feel good?” He asks after long minutes working his fingers inside you. 

“Feels good baby. Want you to feel good.” You murmur as he scissors his fingers to open you up and you watch him as he pumps his cock with his other hand. “Fuck me. Need you inside of me.” You demand as you reach for the lube.

Max pulls his finger out of you and rips open the condom with his teeth. Rolling it down his length and groaning when you smear the condom with the lube generously. “I hope you’re ready.” He hisses, “position me.”

You pant as you reach down to position him, heart pounding as he starts to push in and you watch his face as he pushes in. You’re intoxicated by the look of awe on his face as he pushes into you, slow but precise. “Feel good?” You ask him, wanting to enjoy this.

“Tighter.” He groans, unable to believe how your ring of muscles is squeezing his cock. He checks with you, “how- is it good? Slower? Faster? How do you enjoy it?” He doesn’t just want this to be for him. You are supposed to enjoy yourself too, at least that’s what he wants.

You close your eyes for a second before you open them. “Slow at first then you can speed up. I will enjoy it because it’s you, baby.” You promise, reaching up to caress his forearms as he starts to slowly rock into you. You want to see him wrecked from enjoying this new experience. You’re happy to give it to him.

“You’re so fucking incredible.” He groans as he starts to pull back. Keeping your words in mind as he keeps the pace slow. Enjoying the way your body quivers and tenses under him. “Rub your clit for me.” He orders, remembering how you said you needed to in order to cum. “Want you to cum too.”

You nod, reaching down to rub your clit as he starts to move inside of you. “That’s it baby. Move a little faster. Need you to fuck me like you want. That’s what I want.” You tell him with a moan, your hands caressing his.

He groans, picking up the pace slightly as he watches you rub your clit. It’s so interesting watching himself fuck your ass. Watching your cunt flutter around nothing and yet you are moaning and clearly enjoying yourself. 

You moan as he rocks into you, pushing deeper and stretching you out. “So good baby. Oh God, so good.” You whimper as you rub your clit a little faster. “Keep going, Max. I’m gonna cum from it.” You tell him breathlessly.

He twitches inside you, gasping when you clamp down on him again and his next thrust isn’t as patient as the others. It’s more feral, unrestrained but then the next thrust is more like the others.

It’s your turn to gasp as he becomes more confident and pushes deep into you on the next thrust. “Yessss Max.” You moan, frantically rubbing your clit as he pushes into you again and again. You’re so close. The look on his face has your heart pounding and a couple of thrusts later, you’re clamping down around nothing as you squeeze him inside of your ass.

“Fuck, fuck!” Max hisses, unable to control himself as you start to cum. His thrusts turn frantic and he pushes deep as you squeeze him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He cries out, feeling the pull in his groin and seconds later, he’s filling the condom with a moan of your name.

You watch him in rapture, loving the look on his face as he cums, filling the condom up. “God, that’s it baby.” You caress his arms as he leans down to kiss you but you turn your head, not wanting to break your rule despite really wanting to kiss him. “Good?” You ask him, wanting to know if he enjoyed it as much as you did.

Max nuzzles your cheek and kisses it softly. “Amazing.” He whispers softly, wishing he could kiss you. “Thank you.” He grips the base of the condom and pulls out of you gently. “Do you want to take a bath?”

You nod, needing to relax your muscles. It doesn’t take long for you to be wrapped around him in a bath, you grab the sponge to wash his chest and you kiss his neck. “What’s on for tomorrow?” You ask and he hums, caressing your arms, “polo match.” You nod, “I’ve never been to polo. What do I wear?” You ask,

“A nice day dress.” He hums. “Something flowy, a big hat to keep the sun off you.” You nod eagerly. “I have just the thing. It’s a cute dress with white polka dots, but it doesn’t have sleeves, is that okay?” 

Max shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”

**** 

The next day, you and Max arrive at the polo grounds and you are immediately nervous and feel out of the place. Max seems to be in his element mixing with the upper crust and he leaves you with two sisters, going off to see his attorney. “So you’re the flavor of the week.” They giggle and you smirk, “oh no. I’m just using him for sex.” You stride off to find Max.

“Who is this girl? Where did she come from?” Max’s attorney is a nervous sort, who sees corporate spies behind every door. 

“Phil, don’t worry about it, she’s not a spy.” He assures him, but the man is about to stroke out because you’ve found David Morse, or the man found you, and you’re petting his polo pony. 

“See?” He hisses, grabbing Max’s arm. 

“Tell me she’s not a spy!” Max sighs, knowing he can trust his lawyer of nearly fifteen years. “She’s a hooker.” He tells the man in confidence. Phil looks skeptical, but Max nods. “Picked her up on the Boulevard the night that you loaned me the car.” He huffs. “Think Morse has spies turning tricks? There’s nothing to worry about.” Your laughter catches his attention and he looks over to find you laughing with the horse nipping at your palm and he smiles, thinking you look beautiful. “Excuse me.”

Max comes over to you as you say goodbye to David and he wraps his arm around you and you watch as the upper crust go out to pat down the holes on the field as is tradition according to the announcer. You take the glass of champagne Max offers you until he tells you he wants to talk to someone and leaves you on your own. His attorney, Phil, approaches you, his wife off talking to the others, and Phil chuckles. “You know, you dress up nice.” He says and you turn to look at him, “thanks.” He reaches up to gently run his finger down your arm, “yeah. You clean up nice compared to what you must wear on the boulevard.” Your jaw drops slightly and you turn to look at him. “Maybe I’ll have to come and find you when Max is done with you.” He winks and walks off and you clench your jaw, biting back a retort. When Max comes over, you’re silent and you remain silent until you get back to the hotel. 

**** 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Max asks when you storm into the room, straight to the bedroom where you begin to gather the clothes he bought for you.

“You. Telling Phil that I’m a prostitute. He - he said you told him and I- I just thought you wouldn’t be telling everyone there what I am to you.” You spit, zipping up the garment bag.

Max huffs, pissed off at Phil for telling you. “He thought you were a corporate spy.” He snorts, still amused by that. “Was talking about running a background check on you. And you talking to David Morse didn’t help.” He hates that a thread of jealousy had ripped through him when you had been talking to the other handsome guy, annoyed that you might be more interested in him than Max.

“I just - I thought - I thought we would discuss what you told people before you announced to everyone that I’m a hooker.” You huff as you grab your things.

 “You are a hooker.” Max says and your heart breaks. You thought you were- well, never mind. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and you say, “I want to leave. Now.” You grab your purse and Max nods, grabbing his pocket book to throw the money down on the bed. You swallow harshly as he walks out the room and you don’t want his money. You storm through the hotel suite to the doors and you walk away from him, waiting for the elevator.

Max looks back into the bedroom and sees that you’ve left all the money on the bed, his heart aching at the thought of you leaving. His shoes are still off but he walks out of the suite and down the hall to where you are waiting for the elevator car. Pausing for a second when you won’t look at him. “I’m sorry that I told Phil.” He apologizes. “Will you please come back inside?”

You stare at the golden doors, clothes folded over your arms. They open a few seconds later with the bellboy standing there. “Please?” Max asks, his dark eyes wide as he stares at you pleadingly. You bite your lips as you look at him until you sigh, nodding. “Sorry.” You tell the bellboy and you step back towards Max.

He’s relieved that you are willing to come back to the room and he takes your bag and the clothes out of your arms to carry them for you. Biting his lip as he brings them back into the bedroom and the money is still on the bed.

You set the clothes down and your purse, crossing your arms as you wait for him to say something. “You didn’t take the money.” He says and you shake your head, “I don’t want it.” You confess, “it’s - it’s changed. This situation has changed.” You confess and he nods. You step closer to him, “are you…you think I should stay?”

“I do.” He confesses, reaching out and touching your shoulder. “I didn’t like it when you were talking to Morse.” He continues on. You look at him strangely, “we were just talking.” You remind him. “I didn’t like it.” He repeats, feeling almost possessive of you. Sure, he has purchased your time and use of your body, but he also wants your interest, your thoughts.

You turn towards him, cupping his cheek as he admits his jealousy. “Baby. I’m yours. Until I leave.” You tease, leaning in to kiss his chin. “But that won’t be tonight. I want…I want you to show me that you’re sorry.” You smirk, pushing down on his shoulders, “make me cum.” You smile at him as you work on the zipper of your dress, wanting to feel his tongue again. 

**** 

In bed, you turn to face Max and he softly asks you how you ended up in L.A. You sigh, “I followed a boyfriend over here. He - he was a bum. I have always dated bums. One cheated on me. One went to jail. This one…I followed to L.A and he dumped me for some other girl. I refused to go home with my tail between my legs so I got whatever job I could. Even valeted cars for a bit. Then I couldn’t pay my rent. I met Kit and she told me how much she made…how easy it is. I- I decided to do it. No one plans on becoming a hooker but - I cried. The first time. I cried the entire time.” You confess, shifting a little closer to him.

Max frowns, his heart hurting for you, how you must have felt. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs softly, feeling compelled to tell you his story as well. “My ex constantly told me I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t make enough money or I wasn’t a good enough lover.” He snorts. “She paraded lovers through our home and tried to convince me it was my fault.”

“She was an idiot.” You scoff, reaching out to caress his chest. “You’re handsome. You’re funny. You’re smart as hell. You’re rich as fuck. Why would she say you’re not good enough? Pfft. She’s a goddamn fool.” You scoff and Max snorts, pulling you close but not saying a word. His heart thumping in his chest as he holds you close. 

**** 

“What are we doing today?” You ask Max as you walk into the living room in your robe. He looks up from his reports. “Tonight, we are going to the opera.” Your eyes widen, “the opera?” He nods and you are nervous at the thought. “How am I going to understand anything they sing?” You ask and he smiles at you, “it transcends words. Languages.” You nod, “guess I better get another dress.” 

**** 

Max adjusts his cufflinks as you exit the bedroom, wearing the red dress that you can barely breathe in but it’s worth it. It’s gorgeous and you’ve never felt so beautiful. “You like it?” You ask Max, wanting his approval.

“Hmmm.” Max shakes his head slightly. “It’s missing something.” He decides and pulls out a large jewelry box out of his jacket. He had stopped and picked it up on the way back to the hotel. “Now…” he opens it and snaps it back shut before you can see inside. “This is on loan. You can’t keep this.”

Your eyes widen and you giggle when he snaps the lid shut on your hand and you gasp when you see the necklace again. “Max…oh my God.” You are in awe of the jewelry and you look at it. 

“Let’s get it on you.” Max says and you let him escort you over to the mirror. He fastens it on your neck and you touch it, “how much is this?” You ask and your eyes widen when he says a quarter of a million. “A quarter mil?” You gasp and he nods, “on loan.” You giggle and reach for your clutch as Max escorts you through the hotel where everyone looks at you in awe. “Everyone’s staring.” You murmur.

“Of course they are.” Max huffs, proud to have you on his arm. You are gorgeous and look fucking amazing in your dress. “Good evening, Mr. Lord.” The limo driver nods as he opens the door once you are out of the hotel. “The pilot is ready to take off as soon as you arrive.” Max smiles as he helps you into the car. “Good.”

Your eyes widen once more and you lean into his side, unable to say much as you are driven to a small airport and right up to a private jet. “Max?” You gasp as he escorts you up the steps and onto the plane. You didn’t know that this kind of life was real but it is and you’re in awe of the luxury Max lives in.

“I didn’t tell you?” He asks playfully as he guides you towards a seat and he nods when the stewardess asks if you would like champagne before take off. “The opera is in San Francisco.”

You grin, shaking your head in disbelief. “Is this my life?” You ask Max and he chuckles, leaning in to kiss your cheek. 

**** 

When you arrive at the opera house, Max ushers you to your seats which happens to be a balcony. “You said you don’t like heights?” You ask him as you sit down in your seats. “I don’t.” Max says and you lean in closer, “then why did you get these?” 

He chuckles, “because they are the best.” You playfully roll your eyes and he winks at you just as the opera is about to start. You grab the binoculars and try to figure them out. You flip them until Max chuckles and puts them the right way. “Thank you.” You smile and the music begins.

Max looks over at you during the first act and you are completely enthralled. Eyes fixed on the stage and you are twisting your program in your lap as you watch. He finds it almost more entertaining than the opera. Reaching for your hand, he picks it up and kisses the back of it as tears slip down your cheeks from the beauty of the story is conveyed through the emotion of the performance.

The opera ends and you swallow back the lump in your throat as you wipe your tears away. It was beautiful and moving and you’ve never been to anything like it. “Max.” You sigh when you get back to the hotel after a quiet flight back to L.A. “God, Max. That was incredible.” You sigh as you step out of your heels. “Thank you for taking me.” You tell him, reaching up to remove his tie.

Max smiles at you. “Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks, even though he knows you did. Happy that he could give you this experience, he reaches out and touches the loaned necklace. “Remove your dress, but leave the necklace on.”

You smirk, shaking your head at him. “Let’s play chess.” You say, wanting to keep him on his feet even if he’s paying for you. You grab a Diet Coke from the fridge and move over to the table where the chess board is c waiting for Max. “Come play with me.” You demand as Max watches you. He nods and comes over after removing his jacket and tie. “Take tomorrow off.” You say after he’s won a game and you’re on the next.

“What would I do?” He asks with a frown, knowing that he’s come to L.A. to work. To make this deal happen and make a lot of money.

You reach out to rub your foot against his ankle. “Nothing. Anything. Relax.” You tell him, knowing he takes no time to himself. “You could explore the city. Have lunch. Have sex.” You wink, wanting him to have a day to himself when all he does is work.

He purses his lips, about to tease you and remind you that you turned him down, but the idea is intriguing. “We’ll go on a picnic.” He decides. “I’ve not been on one in so long.”

“Let’s do that then.” You grin and stand up, slowly moving around the table to straddle him in his seat. “And for now…I want to show you how much I enjoyed the opera.” You lean in to kiss his neck and his hands find your waist, sliding up to unzip your dress. “Fuck me with this necklace on before we return it.” You murmur into his neck as you bite his ear. 

**** 

You adjust your skirt as Max finishes getting dressed and after he’s ready, you take his hand as he guides you out of the hotel and into Beverly Hills where there’s nothing planned for once in Max’s life.

The two of you manage to find a deli who is willing to put together a picnic basket for the handsome sum Max slipped him. The charming wicker basket hangs from his hand and he feels lighter than he has in a long time. When you reach the park, you take off the stylish flats you are wearing and grin at him. “Take off your shoes.” 

He snorts and looks down at the Italian loafers. “What?”

“Take off your shoes.” You tell him and he stares at you for a second before he follows your order. You lay out the blanket and you sit down as you grab the basket to open it. You eat and watch the people pass by until Max pulls a book out of his pocket. “Shakespeare?” You ask in curiosity.

  “Of course.” Max huffs playfully, as if everyone should carry Shakespeare in their pocket. “What else would we read while drinking wine and laying in the grass?”

You giggle and listen to Max as he reads a sonnet, your head on his chest. Later that day, you go to a small diner and sit and eat at the bar, laughing at Max as he tells a story from his high school days. When you return to the hotel, you tell Max you’re going to go get ready for bed. You change into one of the silky nightgowns that Max bought you and you adjust your hair as you make your way back out into the bedroom. Max is leaning against the headboard, his eyes shut as he finally sleeps. You shift quietly to sit next to him, smiling. “He sleeps.” You murmur, leaning in to gently kiss his cheek, turning your head slightly to kiss his lips. You break your rule to give him a piece of yourself without him knowing you’ve broken your rule.

The next morning, Max apologizes to you about having to leave so early, rushing out of the hotel suite before you can even have breakfast together. He has a meeting with Mr. Morse that the rest of the board doesn’t know about, not even his lawyer. Wanting to talk to the old man one on one. Or with David too, but without the sharks to smell blood in the water.

You gather your things, packing your bag, and you wait for Max to return from his meeting. The doorbell rings and you answer the door, eyes widening when you see Max’s lawyer, Phil. “How are you?” You ask him and he storms in. You shut the door behind you and you watch him as he practically pulls his hair out, walking over to the bar to pour himself a scotch.

“How am I? I wish I knew. I used to know. Just like I used to know how Max was. But now, I think he’s with you.” He tells you, taking a sip of the scotch and staring at you. Max had completely undone all of his hard work, ruined his chances for making a boatload off this deal and it’s all because of you.

“Max will be back soon. Any minute he’ll be home.” You tell Phil who scoffs, “home? This isn’t your home. This is a hotel room and you aren’t the little woman. You’re a hooker.” Your stomach twists and you swallow down the urge to slap him and decide to sit down on the sofa instead. Phil follows, sitting down beside you, and he sets down the empty glass on the coffee table until he places his hand on your bare thigh. 

“So how much is it? You must be good to have Max all tangled up. I wouldn’t mind a piece of that pussy.” Phil says as he slides his hand up higher and you gasp, grabbing his wrist to push him away. He growls and pounces on you, pushing you back into the sofa and you scream, trying to get out from under him. Phil reacts, slapping you across the face to get you to shut up but you scream out again, putting up a fight.

Max had been in a good mood as he let himself into the suite. Ready to tell you about the deal he had struck with Morse. He wasn’t going to dismantle the company anymore, he was going to invest and make sure that Morse enterprises build the ships they wanted to. When he sees Phil on top of you and you struggling, something snaps in him and he rushes over to drag the man off of you, spinning him around and punching him in the mouth. “What is the matter with you!”

“She’s a whore, man.” Phil growls and Max shakes his head, about to punch the man again. Max throws his briefcase down the hall "this is bullshit. Bullshit. I gave you ten years of my life!" Phil cries, throwing up his hands. 

Max shakes his head again. “This is such bullshit. It's the kill you love not me. Get out of here. Get out!" He demands and Phil stumbles down the hall as Max slams the door. You sit on the sofa, nursing your sore cheek and Max immediately rushes to get you some ice. You hiss when he presses it to your cheek, covered in the napkin, and he looks ready to kill. “Are you okay?” He asks, despite knowing you’re not. 

“I’m fine. I- I gotta go.” You choke out, knowing this moment just solidified your leaving. 

“Don’t go.” Max murmurs, “come with me to New York.” 

You shake your head, “I can’t go with you. It’s - it’s always going to be someone. Some guy who finds out what I am and wants something from me. You can’t beat everyone up.” You reach out to caress his cheek, wanting to cry but you remain strong. 

“Stay here then. Stay and I’ll get you a condo. You can have a card to spend whatever you want if you see me when I come back here.” 

You shake your head again. “That’s a mighty fine offer for a girl like me but I can’t take it. I want…I want more than just the castle. I want the prince. I want the fairytale.” You confess, eyes burning into his. 

He nods and stands up, helping you up and you gather your things again. “Stay with me. One night. One more night. Not because I’m paying you but because I want you to.” He pleads softly and you sigh, “I can’t.” 

You watch him as he takes the money and places it in your hand along with his card, stamped with gold. You lean in to kiss his cheek, “you have a lot of special gifts.” 

Max chuckles, “my special gift is complicated relationships.” You smirk, reaching for his hand before you make your way to the elevator. Max watches you go and somehow you make it down to the lobby. You find Barney and tell him you’ve come to say goodbye. “Thank you for everything.” You murmur and lean in to kiss his cheek. 

He smiles at you, “you’re welcome back whenever you wish, goodbye.” He reaches for your hand to kiss the back of it. “The hotel limo will take you wherever you wish to go.” He says and you nod, “stay cool.” You wink and make your way out of the hotel, knowing you’ll never return.

Max walks through the suite, touching the surfaces that you had touched. The table where he had you for breakfast instead of food. The bathtub you had laid in together. He already misses you. He can’t let you go. Picking up the telephone, he’s connected to the front desk. “Yes, Mr. Lord?” The voice on the other end says. 

He bites his lip. “I need the limo and a dozen roses.” He orders.

You arrive back at your apartment and see Kit, telling her your decision to go to San Francisco to start again, to finish school. You pack your things, including your new clothes, and hand Kit some cash before she leaves because she says she can’t handle goodbyes. Your bus leaves soon and you’re about to go when you hear a horn honking. You go out on your rickety fire escape and you see the hotel limo approach, Max hanging out of the roof window and your eyes widen. Opera plays from the car and Max jumps out when the car stops. You lean over as he contemplates what to do when he looks up at the high fire escape and you giggle when he puts the flower stems into his mouth so he can climb up the stairs. “Don’t-” You don’t get to protest as he rushes up and you decide to meet him halfway, chest heaving as you face him. He comes to you, handing you the flowers. “Max?” You gasp and he stands before you. 

“I can’t let you go. I - it’s more than this week. You- you’ve crawled under my skin. Into my heart. I don’t want to let you go, I want you to be mine.” He declares and your heart clenches. 

“I love you Max.” You murmur, stepping closer to him and you cup his cheeks. 

“So what happens after a prince climbs up the tower to rescue the princess?” He asks you breathlessly. 

“She rescues him right back.” You grin and lean in to press your lips to his. He groans and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close and you melt into the kiss. You never imagined you’d be meeting the man you love by walking the boulevard. You thought you’d be down on your luck forever until a handsome man pulled up in a Lotus Esprit to change your life forever.

​​

[missredherring]

Lord of Desire

Maxwell Lord x Fat F!Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: He reaches out to the woven spell where he can sense the Dreamstone’s magic and tries to take control back. But now, now, he can finally feel your rising desire coming into play and changing the direction of the magic. It’s a tug of war between what the two of you want. It’s heady and dizzying and he can’t tell where one starts and the other stops. 

Warnings: dub-con with dream sex logic. unprotected piv sex. m!on screen and f!off screen masturbation.

A/N: This is the only planned smut scene in the fic, but our duo might surprise me, lol. Max is getting a little desperate here, in more ways than one.

The dream sex logic is a little tricky, so please let me know if I missed any warnings.

Thank you so much to @frannyzooey for your beta reading skills and amazing suggestions. As always, @covetyou thank you for your patience and support as you look over drafts so rough I'm surprised they didn't give you a splinter.

A part of @yearofcreation2023

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Previous - Masterlist - Next

Max stands by the open window, watching the people go by outside. Some are walking their dogs, while others rush through the parking lot with purposeful strides. The cars pull out and join others on the road. Birds chirp as they fly by. A squirrel darts to a nearby tree and disappears up the trunk into the branches.

It’s an endless stream of life outside, but here in your apartment it’s still. 

When you summoned him you’d been pouring a steaming cup of tea. The usual music channel was already playing on the TV and for a moment, as his senses came back to him, all he could do was stare as the fabric of your nightdress played hide and seek with your pretty dimpled thighs while you moved around the kitchen to prepare your drink. 

You’ve settled on the couch, tapping away at the phone that always seems to be in your hand, and there’s no sign of you preparing to start your day.

It’s never taken him this long to fulfill the terms of the Dreamstone’s contracts. 

Whenever he’s been summoned he’d been focused on the wisher, the magic a force urging him on to its own ends. His mind hasn't been fully his own in a long time, but with a single, simple question he feels awake. He feels human again and a part of him hates it, every time the worry and uncertainty rushes back when he materializes from the stone. 

“Are you Max Lord?”

From his periphery he sees your cat come into the room and jump up on the couch with you. The phone is immediately put down as you give your full attention to your pet.

The cat walks up the length of your body to settle on your chest, almost nose to nose with you, and starts purring loudly. You pet him and talk to him in a sweet voice.

“How’d you sleep? Hm? My handsome boy. My sweet baby.” 

A car door slams outside, the engine turns over, and another person sets off. Max can’t keep the words in even as he tries to adjust the tone. 

“Do you have plans for today?” 

“Hmm,” You let out a gusty sigh. “There’s laundry and cleaning of course. I need to go grocery shopping for the week and stop by the post office, but all that can wait.”

“Why?” He asks and hopes it comes across as curious instead of needling. 

“Because Harry came to me of his own free will and wants some attention. I can’t say no to that.” You chuckle when Harry stretches out his neck as you scratch under his chin. “Oh yea, that’s a good one.”

With just a slight turn of his head he takes in the way you’re staring at each other. The cat is looking back at you with equal attention, his body relaxed as he moves up and down with your breathing.

“There’s nothing I would rather be doing right now,” You stroke a thumb over his cheek, smoothing some fur back into place, and he leans into your touch. “Than being here with him like this.”

The frustration that’d been rising abruptly stops and sits heavy on his chest.

Max tries to imagine a morning like this for himself: slow and warm and full of affection. He can only remember the overwhelming stress and rushing to meet with the next potential investor or checking the stock market reports again and again to see if Black Gold would go under or if it would survive another day.

Would Alistair have liked a day like this with him? With no real demands of his time except their own whims? He knows what the answer would’ve been.

He hasn't felt this guilt in a while, but it knows where its home is, beneath his ribs and next to his heart. 

You take his silence as the end of the conversation and go back to making soft noises at the cat.

More and more, you’re treating him like a roommate and leaving him to his own devices while going about your daily life. You do it again later that day, leaving him in the living room after announcing you’re going to take a nap.

When your bedroom door clicks closed he allows his face to fall from its neutral expression, agitation deepening the lines around his mouth and eyes. He rubs a hand over his chin and looks down at the jewelry that he can no longer remove, the gold bands that are growing heavier every day as the hands of his watch chip away at the time left in this contract. 

The temptation of the wishes alone hasn’t worked like it has on others, but maybe you’ll fall for something else. 

Max settles into the arm chair with his hands linked over his stomach. The air is warm, blowing through the windows, as he clears his mind. 

He inhales deeply through his nose, focusing on the Dreamstone’s magic. It too is restless with disuse as it churns in the space between you. He follows the connection to your form, feels the same pulse echoing along your skin, and sinks into the sensation.

The magic guides him in planting the suggestion. It’s only moments before your unconscious mind accepts it and the dream sequence sweeps over both of you. 

He’d thought it would be something simple. A scene out of a dirty VHS that’d been passed around after late night business meetings. He would be the director, his voice whispering suggestions of how you could make all of it a reality with only two words. But as has become routine with you: your subconscious takes the magic’s suggestion and shapes it into something else. 

Something he didn’t intend at all. 

The apartment drops away, leaving only your glowing form at the center of a dark void. You’re spread out on silk sheets, your body bare and relaxed.  

Between one blink and the next he’s become a part of the scene: the silk sheets cool on his bottom now that they’re under him and he’s just as naked as you are. He doesn’t know what he’s sitting up against, but it doesn’t matter as your warm skin presses him further down, your back to his chest you rely on him to support you.

He reaches out to the woven spell where he can sense the Dreamstone’s magic and tries to take control back, but your rising desire comes into play and changes the direction of his fantasy. It’s a tug of war between what the two of you want. It’s heady and dizzying and he can’t tell where one starts and the other stops. 

His body pinning you down into the mattress. Hands wandering, caressing, pressing, digging into giving flesh. He imagines his own scene, something that could leave you desperate enough to make a wish, but you take it over. 

You sigh and take his hands in yours, guiding them to your breasts. Their weight steadies his hands as they spill between his fingers. He can't hold all of you and it only drives the urge to keep moving and touch more.

He couldn’t stop the motions if he tried. Massaging and kneading at the warm skin that moves easily with his touch. Catching your nipples between his fingers and squeezing them gently. His exploration is rewarded with your gasp, with the arch of your back into his chest, and the way your hips rock back into him, nudging at his hardening cock.

Mouths exploring, opening wider and wider in the attempt to cover as much skin as possible. Lips and tongues and teeth marking everything in their path.

Max can’t remember the last time he was like this with a lover. He doesn't feel any tension in your body, and there’s no sign of you counting down the time until it’s been long enough to politely end the engagement. He feels at ease with himself as the pouch of his stomach rolls over when he leans forward to mouth at the tempting line of your neck. Your body is heavy against his, weighing him down in a way he can feel in his bones. There’s no room for anything else between your skin and his.

A rough grip at the nape of your neck, pushing you down into the sheets, and lifting your wide hips to meet his. Slipping and gliding along your sex, coating his dick in your desire. The sweet pressure in the first seconds of the initial stretch.

Fingers tangle together in a brief embrace as you take his hand bring it down, placing it between your legs. Instead of leaving him alone there, you caress the soft skin of your inner thigh, gripping it and holding yourself open for him, allowing his big hand room to cup your fat pussy and fill his palm completely. Pubic hair tickling him, you roll your hips, caught between his hand. his cock behind you, and his other hand still working your breast. He waits, framing your vulva with his pointer and pinky fingers and letting his middle fingers play, dipping and stroking but not delving deep enough to find your clit yet, just teasing the seam of your sex. The moan you let out is so close to his ear, the nuzzle at his jaw followed by a press of your lips. Your affection, your approval, makes his head swim even more. 

Lust traded back and forth between you with every thrust, building and building until it drowns out the pounding of your heartbeat and spills over. 

Max snaps back to his own body, jerking in the chair and panting to catch his breath. His body is tingling with an awareness he hasn’t felt in along time, and it’s all pooling in his lap, where an erection beats an echo of the same lustful suggestions he’d given you.

In your bedroom he can hear the creak of the bed as you shift and he chokes on his breath, groaning low when the quiet whir of a motor starts. You gasp and he can still hear the echo of that same sound ringing in his ears. 

He drags a hand over his face and into his hair, grabbing a fistful and clenching it in frustration. He gives you a wet dream and instead of coming to him to finish the job, you’re taking care it of yourself. You’re driving him insane. The next clench of his fist goes straight to his cock and he drops his hand. 

After that, it’s easy. God, it’s so damn easy for him to unzip his pants and take himself in hand. Already so worked up, it doesn't take much more than imagining that the feeling of his fist hitting his groin is your hips pushing back into him as he fucks you. The soft moans coming from your room spurs him on to a quick orgasm, and as the pleasure peaks and starts to ebb away he sighs. 

You come out of your room with loose limbs, rumpled clothing, and even messier hair. Just how hard did you press your head back into your pillows, as you sated the desire that had woken you from your sleep? He wants to witness it, to hear those quiet noises you’d made loud in his ears.

He holds himself still until you close the bathroom door behind you and then grabs the tissues from the coffee table. Cleaning up the mess he’d made between his legs, he tries not to think of how you’re doing the same thing.  

[prolix-yuy]

Sheer

(Moodboard by @missredherring)

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Plus Sized F!Reader

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

Word Count: 4.6k

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

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

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

It was your fucking thighs that ruined it all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wouldn’t have ripped them if you were smaller.

Why do you need to take up so much space?

Did you think all this would change what you are?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He starts talking.

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

A moment of silence, a silent hope.

“This is your day…”

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

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

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

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

“You’re a woman. In the men’s room.”

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

“It’s been a rough morning.”

Another pause.

“Are you in trouble?”

You peal out a weak laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sheer black.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He waits in agony.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A softer pause than before.

“Would you like me to leave?”

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

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

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

“Max Lorenzano…”

“Max Lord.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Max clears his throat, his own eyes glassy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

END

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

[idolatrybarbie]

main masterlist | pmamc masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was looking for you,” Max admits.

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

“I thought it was brilliant.”

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

“Of course,” Max returns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyone has a tell,” Maxwell says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where can I find you?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Four hundred dollars,” the woman says immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Really, it’s an easy choice to make.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why’s that?”

“You’re too beautiful.”

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

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

“Absolutely, yes,” Maxwell nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, baby.”

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

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

“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know so.”

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

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

“Hand me that bottle, baby.”

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

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

“You ready, honey?” you ask him.

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

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

“Yes, it’s—oh god.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always ready,” Maxwell answers.

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

“How does that feel?”

“Fantastic,” Maxwell sighs.

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

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

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

“Fuck,” Max moans. “Please.”

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

“Anything,” he agrees.

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

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

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

“Please,” he begs you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Partners,” Maxwell agrees.

And that’s that.

[xdaddysprincessxx]

The Year Max Lord’s Wish Came True

Moodboard by me!

Max Lord x teacher f reader

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

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

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

Words: 3714

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1 hour later. . .

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

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

“84B”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t help but giggle at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say it. Say my name little girl.”

“D-daddy.”

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

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

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

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

Whack! Whack! Whack!

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

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

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

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

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

“T-th-t -“ you stutter

Whack!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh mierda hermosa, me hiciste un desastre,”

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

“Come here I need to be inside you baby”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe we can do this again?”

“I’d love that hermosa.”

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

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

[xmissrogersx]

Hi everyone!

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

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

A few things about me:

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

God bless lana del rey, pizza and pedro pascal.

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

www.tiktok.com/@priiscontardi

[mandoalorian]

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

mastermind

Max Lord x Reader

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

word count: 2,5k

warnings: descriptions of poverty, abuse, violence, angst

masterlist

[please reblog if you enjoy!]

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look breath-taking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only, he certainly wasn’t ready for this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Max…” you trailed off.

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

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

Simon blinked, bewildered. “Huh?”

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

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

“Out.” Maxwell spat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A name?”

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

“That’s… I had no idea…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Should I be worried about Stagg?”

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

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

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

…

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[pedritapascal]

Max Lord Always Gets What He Wants.

Maxwell Lord Always Gets What He Wants

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

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

---------------------------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

************************************************************************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It seems so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Hey, but you...?

- Shiiiu, just obey me...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Moan louder for me little one - he ordered

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

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

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

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

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

- Does that bother you?

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

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

- Of course...

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

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

- And how can I forget...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Just relax

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

- Max...

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

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

************************************************************************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PEDRITA PASCAL

[simpingcowboy]

A game called "Would They Go?" where I assess Pedro boys as to whether they would go in my stupid little date ideas or not!!! First up...

A Butterfly Garden Date

Javi Gutierrez: Yes!!! He loves anything you love. I think he'd also just enjoy the general beauty of it. Would love to listen to you ramble about the different kinds of butterflies and flowers.

Dave York: Absolutely not. He fs engages in toxic masculinity and will not go do that with you. If you did manage to drag him to it he would go everything in his power to assert he is not enjoying himself.

Jack Daniels: Also engages in toxic masculinity BUT is not as threatened by butterflies as Dave York. He would go and take cute photos of you with the butterflies.

Javier Peña: He doesn't really understand the point. He'll go but will end up falling asleep on a bench. Also refuses to take his sunglasses off even though you're kinda indoors.

Din Djarin: Yes. I think he would have a nice time. I don't think the butterflies would really wanna land on him with all his beskar but him and the butterflies are generally neutral to each other's existence. He'd enjoy the scenery and seeing you have fun. Gets antsy about whether butterflies carry diseases or can hurt you. You assure him they're safe. Din will not bring Grogu. Grogu would eat them.

Max Lord: Initially doesn't really get the point, but once he settles into the idea finds it very relaxing. He may or may not purchase his own butterfly garden in the near future to escape to on stressful days. Max loves all the different colored flowers.

Oberyn Martell: Of course!!! He adores it!! Oberyn finds it endlessly entrancing. He'll take a very leisurely pace, secretly willing the butterflies to land on you. He longs to see you adorn with such beauties.

Pero Tovar: Is confused. Feels like a trapped animal. Would go out of curiosity, but then immediately leave. He fully hates it, but would just tell you to go enjoy it while he "stands guard" outside.

Marcus Moreno: He'd enjoy it. He loves learning! So he's reading all the plaques and really taking in the educational aspects. It feeds into his DILF persona. Is taking lots of blurry photos to show Missy when he gets home. He is recommending this place for a school field trip in the future!

Dieter Bravo: Yes, but he would get super high before going. Plants himself on a bench and stares open mouthed gawking at the butterflies as he lets the drugs kick in. Dieter is sitting so still the butterflies start landing on him in swarms. All he does is turn his head to look at you and say "Babe, this...this is...wow" as he silently cries. It quickly becomes one of his favorite activities to do when he's high and has time to spend with you

Max Philips: Due to the nature of it being a day time activity I think he'd have to pass. He had been to them when he was human and while he would not admit it aloud, he's a little disappointed he can't go with you. When he was able to go before as a human, he found them very peaceful.

Marcus Pike: He loves seeing you smile, so of course he would indulge. It's a bit more public than he usually likes for dates so he's constantly trying to pull you away to a less crowded area. But he considers it a good prelude to your date until he can take you to a more intimate setting.

Frankie Morales: He would definitely go!! And definitely enjoy it. Living in the city he can't always indulge in nature the way he'd like to, but a butterfly garden is a good compromise. The environment is very calming, but controlled in a way where he doesn't have to worry about any triggers. He's able to really bring all his focus in on you. It's one of the few times you see him really be at peace with himself. You'll be sure to come back here again sometime.

[free-for-all-fics]

Pedro Pascal Character Prompts! This list includes: Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, Javi Gutierrez, Max Lord, Din Djarin, and Max Phillips. If you’re inspired by any of these, pls tag me and I’d love to read it! 💜

1. Whenever and wherever you and Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels want to have alone time, (in a hideout cabin, his office at Statesman HQ, hotel room, before/during/after a mission, whatever) he’ll put his cowboy hat on the door handle as his way of saying, “Do Not Disturb”. Eggsy, Tequila or someone else was fed up with it like, “Stop fooling around and suit up! We have a mission, there’s work to do. No more cowboy hat! Cowboy hat is coming off the door, okay!? I’m coming in so quit doing whatever you’re doing!” And took the hat off the door to try to get you and/or Whiskey to hurry up and get moving. Only to walk in on you and Whiskey in a compromising position. (You’re riding him like a horse in cowgirl or reverse cowgirl position or he has you tied to the bed with his non-electric lasso and your legs over his shoulders while eating you out. Or a mystery third option, whatever you desire.) The intruding agent is traumatized but Jack is unfazed by being walked in on. He doesn’t even pause or falter in his loving on you while he nonchalantly says,

“Oh c’mon, kid. You know what cowboy hat on the door means. Everyone knows what it means.”

2. Something cute (or sexy, up to you) where Agent Whiskey is being needy and/or flirty, and uses his non-electric lasso to rope you in by the waist and demand a kiss…or two…or ten. Maybe you try to walk away from him for one reason or other and he’s not having it. He’s caught you fair and square and isn’t letting you go until you give him lots of sugar, Sugar! 😘

3. You’re Champ’s daughter and also a Statesman agent but oh no when you and Agent Whiskey mix business with pleasure after you catch feelings for each other. Over the course of many years of going on missions together, it’s no surprise you’ve grown close. It’s sort of forbidden love because you’re the boss’s daughter, so you and Jack often have to get creative to keep your escapades secret. You’d rather Jack not get fired or killed by your father. If you both ditch your trackers and earpieces and go dark for a few minutes or an hour to have some much needed “alone time”, you can later blame it on bad reception or needing to lay low to not get detected by the enemy. But what if the way Champ discovers you and Whiskey are together is you’re at a mission briefing and you accidentally say, “Daddy, can you pass the [item]?” And both Jack and Champ reach for it at the same time. Uh oh.

4. You and Jack go to one of those country bars that have mechanical bulls for customers to ride. (Could be for a mission, to get close to a target or could just be leisure time). There’s a friendly contest happening where the person who can stay on the bull the longest gets a great prize. After a few drinks, Jack dares you to try it. To his surprise, you master riding the mechanical bull. You don’t fumble even once or ever come close to getting knocked off, no matter how fast and erratic the mechanical bull’s movements become. While watching you, Jack is fucking turned on by the way you move your hips back and forth to shift your weight and keep your center of balance. You say something like, “Riding mechanical bulls is much easier than real bulls.” Jack blinks and looks at you in disbelief, now with questions on his tongue but you just say, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Optional Bonus: Somehow he convinces you to “ride home on a real Cowboy” and spend the night with him. You've got him pinned down as you try to ride him within an inch of his life and he's just laying back with his arms behind his head and going, "That's all you got? For a girl who can expertly hold onto a bull, it looks like you're having trouble staying on." His cocky grin makes you wanna slap him but that’s when he flips you over and brings out a flogger, smacking your ass with it as he grips your hair and starts pounding into you from behind. “Don’t worry, honey. you can whip me next round if you’re good for me.”

5. You’ve been blackmailed or threatened by Lucas to infiltrate Javi’s luxurious home in Majorca under the guise of a new assistant and get as close to him as possible, with the goal being to eventually kill him. You don’t want to, but you can’t refuse the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Spain. He’s holding too much over you. The more time you spend with Javi, you admire his spirit and ambitious nature towards film. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way nor under these dire circumstances, but you fall in love. You nearly crack under the pressure of your predicament, wanting so badly to tell Javi the truth - especially when months pass and he proposes. You’re finally ready to confess everything, even if it means forfeiting your life.

But before you can even answer his proposal, Lucas destroys your hopes and dreams of a happy future. He's kidnapped a politician’s daughter and bursts in to reveal your affiliation with him. Javi feels betrayed by your deception and doubts if anything about your relationship was real. With your dirty past exposed and your cover blown, you’re resolved to save Javi from his cruel and bloodthirsty cousin no matter the cost. Even if he never loves you again, even if you die trying to save his life, you won’t let Lucas get away with his crimes. You just hope Javi can forgive you eventually.

6. You come from a very average upbringing. Your life isn’t the most luxurious or exciting, but you’re happy enough. Very rarely do you get to travel or go on vacations, let alone internationally, but somehow fate lands you in Spain. (Maybe you’re on a business trip, rare vacation, studying abroad, etc.) While on a small ferry boat, you and the people you’re with get lost due to fog or darkness and accidentally end up off the coast near the luxurious home of Javi Gutierrez. When the boat hits obscured rocks and everyone evacuates, he and Gabriela run out to rescue you from the water, bringing you all safely back to shore. As Javi wraps a warm blanket around you, your hands brush his.

You nearly stumble and fall from how handsome he is when you see his face through the light emitted from the flashlights. He catches you, assuming you’re wobbly from the shock of the accident. He lets you lean on him and helps you walk as he guides you inside his mansion. He and Gabriela are kind enough to let you and everybody else stay as long as needed to recuperate, but Javi seems especially drawn to you and wants you to stay, even after everybody else has made plans to leave. Well, your life just got a lot more exciting, hasn’t it?

7. You’re an American studying abroad in Spain and somehow fate lands you in the arms of Javi Gutierrez. You don’t recognize him or know who he is at all, and he finds your ignorance to his identity very refreshing. It allows him to just be himself around you and not put up a facade as figurehead to a crime family. You swap phone numbers and he takes you out for lunch dates, car rides for sightseeing, etc. His home in Majorca is beautiful. You enjoy any time spent with him, even if it’s in your small apartment or rental car. He’s just as interested in you and your studies as you are with him and his passion for filmmaking. You’re both ambitious in your own unique ways, and while you come from very different social classes and wealth brackets, you develop a camaraderie.

You’re both deeply saddened when you admit you’ll have to return home eventually. Javi loves you so much that he was willing to let you live with him or pay for your living expenses so you wouldn’t have to leave, but you’d never ask that of him or accept such a generous offer. He can’t bear to be apart from you forever, so he offers a compromise: He’ll endure a long distance relationship and support you while you’re pursuing your studies and career of choice, but he’d like you to come visit him during winter and spring breaks. He’ll pay for your travel expenses. Please don’t argue with him on this. Or he’ll come to you and fly to the US if it’d make you feel better. Even a week or two of having you to himself would be enough to satiate his cravings for you and hold him over when you’re apart again. (Along with maybe the intimate photos you’ve taken for his eyes only 🤫) It’s a few years later when he flies over for your college graduation to congratulate you, a small velvet box in his suit pocket.

8. You and Javi were once a very happy couple, so in love you felt sick. You were just a plain and average American exchange student when you met him, but he became your best friend and you couldn’t have asked for a better partner. You kept your blossoming romance secret for a very long time, deeming it unsafe due to Lucas and his criminal activities. Despite your circumstances, Javi loved you so much he couldn’t bear to wait anymore and asked you to marry him. You accepted. You both understood that you’d have to have a long engagement, since you couldn’t marry until somehow you were able to get away from Lucas and his crime organization. Javi thought he was discreet enough when sneaking in and out of the mansion to see you. You thought you were thorough, making sure you left no visible trace of yourself behind when you left his place under the cover of night.

You and Javi went unsuspected for a while, but somehow Lucas connected the dots. He threatened you and/or your loved ones, and at first you tried not to let him get to you. You thought your love for Javi would be strong enough to endure this, but Lucas’ tactics of intimidation and threatening became too much for you to handle, culminating in him threatening to break Javi’s neck if you didn’t break his heart. So you broke off your engagement to Javi, giving him back the ring. This caused a huge argument in which you lied and pretended you didn’t love him anymore, even going so far as to say there was another man when he kept pushing you for an explanation. You left without telling him the truth, since Lucas made it more than clear he’d kill you if you told Javi anything. You go back home to the US and don’t see him again for a long time. But when the fiasco with Nic Cage and the CIA is finally over and Lucas is arrested, Javi wants only two things in the world: To make his movie and to find you. He’s determined to get you back and marry you now that he’s a filmmaker and can provide you with a safe and happy life.

9. Christmas Carol Inspired: Back in college, you met Maxwell Lorenzano. He himself couldn’t afford to enroll, but he caught your eye while doing custodial work on campus. This allowed him to sort of have access to the library, but it wasn’t enough since he couldn’t take any books home and he soon wanted more. You wanted to help, so you’d check books out for him so he wouldn’t get in trouble for theft. You became friends and then sweethearts as you gave him the emotional and financial support he needed during his struggles to rise to the top. Even if it was something as simple as buying a muffin for him at the coffee shop, you’d do it. He’d tell you all about his hopes and dreams for the future, but never mention his past. You were so proud of him when he founded Black Gold Cooperative and elated when he proposed to you. The ring was just a plain band with your and his initials engraved into it. There was no gem, but it was perfect to you.

But years went by and your engagement kept stretching on and on, with no wedding date set. No matter how many times you asked him about it, he wouldn’t commit and deflected the topic. You knew he wanted more than anything to become a successful businessman, and now he’s achieved it. He’s the CEO of Black Gold Cooperative, a television personality popular with the public, has a mansion and luxurious clothes, cars, Rolexes and rings. You just never thought he’d cast you aside and neglect you. He always wants more, more, more, never satisfied with what he has. With his new name of Max Lord and rich lifestyle, you hardly recognize him anymore. He’s so busy and hardly makes time for you. It’s like he’s erased you from his life almost completely. You’ve loved him for so many years, overcame many hardships and challenges with him. But this is different. This is too much for you.

Despite how he’s changed and treated you in recent years, you still love him. You know he’s a good man underneath it all, but this is not the kind of life you signed up for when you accepted his proposal. It’s because you love him that you enter his golden office and interrupt his meeting with an investor to set your engagement ring on his desk. You’ve done all you could for him, the last kindness you can offer is to release him from the long ago promise he’d made and wish him well. You’ll always be grateful to him for loving you. You both had very little back then, but your lives were simple and full of love. You’ll treasure those memories always. Now he has everything he’s ever wanted in life, and that doesn’t include you. Maybe it did once, but not anymore.

10. (Possible sequel idea to the above prompt, but can be stand-alone): You and Max Lord were once in love, but the romance eventually fell through and you broke it off, even if you didn’t want to and it was a last resort. Max never fully got over you, no matter how many women he fooled around with while living his new, luxurious life. It all felt so hollow and meaningless now without you. No woman could ever compare to you. To everyone in the world it seems he’s a man who has everything his heart desires, but he still wants you. You're the motivation behind his search for the Dreamstone. After becoming the Dreamstone itself, Max uses his powers to trick your current partner into wishing for something so that he can take you back in exchange. What Max didn’t foresee was the effect it would have on you. You’re still yourself, but it’s like you’re under a strange love spell. You’re totally normal, but you’ve gone back to loving Max the way you did before your breakup, as if time has reversed. Nothing about you has changed.

Oh, except one teeny tiny thing: You have no memory of your other relationship with your (now former) partner. They’re a total stranger to you now. It’s as if the events surrounding yours and Max’s deteriorating relationship and breakup never happened. Max isn’t sad or guilty about this development. He justifies his actions to himself, self-assured he can make you so much happier and love you better. You loved him first, and he’ll be your one and only. He’s realized what terrible mistakes he’s made in letting you slip away from him, and he wants to make it up to you. He never blamed you for leaving, the deterioration of your relationship was solely his fault and a consequence of his own failings as a lover, but he’s changed. He’s become a better man and realized what’s most important. He wants more than anything to marry you so he can spend the rest of his life proving it to you. This is a second chance for you both.

11. You’re Max Lord’s ex-wife and mother to Alistair. You’ve had boyfriends after your divorce, but none of them really stuck. You have joint custody with your ex-husband. You and Max love your boy more than anything in the world, that’s at least one thing you can agree on. When you drop off Alistair at his dad’s workplace for his weekend, you grow concerned about Max’s disheveled appearance, especially his bloodshot eyes and bleeding ears. You urge him to see a doctor, unaware of what he’s done. Though you divorced, you can’t help it that the love you have for him still lingers. You still care, even a little bit. He brushes you off and assures you it’s nothing. When Max becomes addicted to the Dreamstone’s power and nearly causes the end of the world, it’s not just Alistair that’s running and screaming for Max to save him, you’re there too. To the very end you protect your son, even if it means shielding him with your body and getting seriously hurt by the destruction around you.

Seeing you and your boy in peril makes Max renounce his wish. He comes to save you both, but gets scared when Alistair runs out from the trees alone. Until Alistair leads him back to you, badly injured and in urgent need of medics, but alive. Your ex-husband and son stay by your side while you’re recovering in hospital, and it’s during this time that Max admits he’s never stopped loving you. He asks for a second chance to be a better husband than he was the first time. He asks if you would ever consider marrying him…Again? You tease him and say you’ll entertain the thought, but he needs to take you out on some dates first.

12. Still just a child at 50 years old, it’s clear Grogu will outlive both you and Din by hundreds of years. Tell an angsty or bittersweet story centering around Grogu’s life, the years spent with his human mom and dad, including when he goes through the inevitable deaths of both you and Din. (Whether you outlive Din, Din outlives you, or you die together is up to you.) How would Grogu grieve and continue his life without either of you by his side? How does your son spend his days after you’re both gone? Would he keep beloved keepsakes that once belonged to you or Din to remember you both by? Would he have a sort of shrine dedicated to you both or visit your shared resting place? How does he live out the rest of his years, up until the end of his own journey and his time comes to be reunited with his parents? When he reaches old age, he knows you and Din will be happy to see him again. He wants to be held in Mama and Daddy’s arms again, even if he’s not so little anymore. And when he does finally return home, he’ll have many stories to tell.

13. Somehow Evan intentionally or inadvertently sabotaged yours and Max’s relationship so badly that his words or actions drove you to leave Max and/or drop out of college. This is why Max slept with Evan’s girlfriend, which only resulted in Evan getting him kicked out of school for cheating. When he returns from Romania as a vampire, he’s determined not only to get under Evan’s skin as much as possible by watching him squirm and question his own sanity while he turns the whole department into vampires. He also wants to find and reconcile with you so he can turn you and fuck you on Ted’s desk. You had plans to marry after finishing college, and he still wants to make you his bride - in more ways than one.

14. You’re the vampire that turns Max when he attends school in Romania. You take him under your wing not only as a fledgling, but your lover. You teach him everything there is to know about vampirism. Together, you concoct an ingenious scheme to return to the US so Max can claim the position Evan so desperately coveted, while you work as head of HR. You and Max turn everyone in Evan’s workplace into vampires while messing with him to make him question his sanity and watch him squirm in paranoia. (Maybe Amanda doesn’t exist so you go so far as to get close to Evan and act romantically interested in him.) This is so Max can land a devastating blow when he fucks you on Ted’s desk in front of him, stretching it out as he makes Evan watch before you both finally reveal you’re a vampire too and are actually the one who turned Max, not the other way around. Max loved the look on Evan’s face when he realized you’re not only in cahoots with each other, but in love. Sweet revenge for Evan getting him kicked out of school and blacklisted from most universities. Though Max admits that maybe he should be thanking Evan. In a way, it’s because of him that Max had to attend college in Romania and met you in the first place. So Evan sort of brought you two together.

[whiskeynwriting]

Greed

Sugar Daddy!Maxwell Lord x Female Reader

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Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Max…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you taste me?”

“Hm?”

“I want your tongue on me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I have an idea.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Max,”

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

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

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

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

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

“Max…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Max…”

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

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

“Again.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Breathing deeply, you whine, “Maxwell…”

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

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

“Mm,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Has an hour truly gone by already?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smirks. “Are you sore?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like that, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

“I, M-Mr. Lord,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know you won’t.” 

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

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

“What about her, cariño?” (Sweetheart)

“She saw us.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 8th

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

Max Lord x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.6k

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

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah….sure….” She’s bobbing her head quickly and looking over Maxwell. “That’s great. Well, I know you’ll have a great time, so I’ll just run along.” 

You ignore the flirting and flustering as Maxwell makes a slight scene at Barbara leaving, kissing her hand and making her giggle like she’s five again. Soon enough, there’s blissful silence back in your lab so you can concentrate. 

“So what are you studying?” The question comes after two blissful minutes of silence. Two minutes that you had obviously hoped would be longer. Your eyes cut up from your magnifying glass to find Maxwell looking at the stone curiously. 

“A rock.” You glibly answer, keeping your tone just as dry as you possibly can. Barely resisting the urge to smirk when his grin slides off his unfairly handsome face. 

Maybe you feel a little guilty, but it’s not enough to make you apologize as you look back down at the inscription with a frown. While your Latin was rusty, you swear this is talking about fertility. Just as you tilt the glass down more, a finger appears in front of your magnifying glass, making it look even larger than normal, showing you the grooves in his skin. “What’s-”

“No!” You cry out, knowing that the stone cannot be touched without gloves. The instructions had been very clear in the crate that the stone was packed in. “Don’t touch it!” 

Your fingers collide, both of you touching the vivid jade stone at the same time. The piece seemingly glows at the contact and both of you gasp as you snatch your hands away, knocking over the magnifying glass. 

The next few moments are nothing short of a blur of pain and confusion. Nearly blacking out until a pair of lips smash against yours in the most inelegant, needy kiss of your life. 

“Ohhhh!” Your eyes fly open, finding Maxwell’s face right in yours and his mouth opens, groaning. 

“I can’t- I need-” He doesn’t stop kissing you, his words are just cut off by the tongue sliding into his mouth. Your tongue. The feeling of him pressing against you awakening something base inside you. 

You don’t know why, but you need him. The word fertility flashing in your mind and you push it away because of the burning of your skin and the throbbing of your cunt. 

He apparently feels the same way. Something hard and pulsing starts to push against your hip as he backs you up against the table you had been working at. Nothing but fervent kisses being exchanged, and his hands start to pull at your clothes. 

You never even think to push him away. It doesn’t even cross your mind. Too busy grabbing handfuls of him and ripping open the obvious faux Gucci belt so you can rip those ridiculously baggy pants off of him. 

His hands are bigger, harder than you ever would have imagined when watching those commercials of his. Wonderful on your skin as he slides them up  your thighs under your skirt. Hot as find the edge of your panties and hooking under them to start dragging them down. 

It’s not like you’ve talked about this, but neither one of you cares. Both of you groaning when your own hand dives into his briefs and wraps around an impressive cock. He hides it well under those bulky suits. 

Both of you need each other in a way that can’t even be described. The pain flaring in your stomach drives you, squeezing and pumping his cock, pulling back the foreskin and smearing the bead of precum around the head while he pants into your mouth. 

Your name, not even spoken by him before, sounds like ambrosia as it drips from his tongue. His own fingers sliding through your folds before he is pushing you up onto the table and spreading your legs to step between. 

Your cry would draw any number of personnel if there had been anyone. It had already been late in the day, and then the meeting had drawn everyone else away, leaving your floor empty with the exception of you and Maxwell. “Max!” Your eyes widen when he pushes inside you, filling you to the hilt with a needy, frantic thrust. 

He groans again, twitching violently inside you and gripping the edge of the table behind you. Pulling his hips back and shuddering when he thrusts forward again and moans at how tight you are. 

Rocking the table with how hard he’s fucking you, you can’t do anyting but hold on and whine for him. Every piercing thrust of his cock pushing the pain away and making your cunt feel amazing. Hitting all the best spots, deep inside you and scratching an itch you didn’t know you had. 

Kisses are littered on your skin, his teeth being used far more that you ever thought possible as a man fucks into you as frantically as Maxwell does. Chasing that same goal with the urgency that is burning underneath your own skin. Both of you pulling and grabbing at each other, clothes bunched between you as you grind your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist. 

“I didn’t- fuck, it’s so good.” Maxwell rambles. “You’re so good. I can’t - it’s so- fuck.” 

You can only moan in agreement, not even coherent enough to speak right now. Your entire focus on the connection of his cock in your pussy. 

Your body is so sensitive that you are shocked by how quickly you cum. Taking you by surprise as your head falls back and your hands hold onto his broad shoulders. Cunt clenching down around him and the heat of your orgasm rushing through your body and seemingly quenching that fire that had been burning since you touched the stone only minutes before. 

“Oh fuck, oh mierda.” He groans, clenching his teeth and shouting when he thrusts once more, pulsing heavily inside you as he paints your womb with his seed in hot spurts. Panting and whining as he rocks his hips to push every drop into your quivering cunt until he’s spent and collapsing against you and both of you drop to the table top. 

Gasping for air, you try to catch your breath as you roll your head to the side and feel Max nuzzle against your neck, his own breath still undstead. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of the stone. “What the fuck was that?” You ask, bewildered and almost giggly as you look at the fertility stone that had compelled both of you to fuck like wild animals in your lab. 

“I don’t know.” He pants. “But I might need a minute if we do it again.” 

Breaking into a giggle, your hand slides up to pet the hair that you had been snorting at earlier. Maybe Max Lord wasn’t soooo bad. “Hell of a tour, huh?” 

“Fuck.” He chuckles, still not moving on top of you and snuggling into you even more when your fingers scratch his scalp. “The best.” 

[missredherring]

M.L. + "Please be gentle."

Maxwell Lord x Fat!Female Gorgon Reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 940

Contents: making out... with teeth, light restraint. blindfold. grinding. Reader wears glasses.

A/N: What are the odds that Max encountered a fat Gorgon babe on his hunt for the Dreamstone and she just... decided to keep him? Not zero, that's for sure.

I had this idea for the prompt earlier, but then Pedro came out in that shirt at the SAG Awards, showing off that gorgeous chest, and I was hit with a new wave of inspiration.

Part of my Inexperienced Smut prompt series. Thanks @boliv-jenta for listening to my thots. @agentmarcuspike you reblogged those Max gifs just at the right time. ;) Since you were interested: @prolix-yuy @perotovar (thanks for the lovely gifs. They were the main inspo for this subby Maxwell.)

Not beta'd. Any mistakes are my own.

Summary: "Please be gentle."

Series Masterlist

“God, it’s so loud in here! Can we go somewhere? Just me and you? Hmm… your office?”

His eyes are wide, his mouth soft and open just a little, willing you to believe the earnest expression on his face. 

Maxwell Lord has been confident that his plan will work. You can feel it in the press of his mouth as he kisses you eagerly while walking you through your office doorway, in the way he grips your sides, humming as the fat there moves around his touch, pushing back to surround his fingers instead of giving in.

There has been arrogance hiding in the corner of his smirk, winking at you when he pulls away to gush admiration over the trinkets that decorate your office, though they “aren’t as pretty as you, of course.”

It fades when you raise his bowtie to his face instead of dropping it to the floor. The nervous bob of his Adam's apple is clear to see now that the first couple buttons of his dress shirt are undone when you tie it behind his head and take away his vision. Covering those pretty browns is a shame, but the rest of him is so expressive, telegraphing his every emotion just as easily as any feature on his face, that it’s an easy trade. 

The Theban glass used for the lenses of your glasses makes your eyes ache when overstimulated by large crowds and parties like the one your company is hosting right now. You sigh as you take them off and toss them onto your desk. The way he jumps at the sound has you smiling as you look at him clearly for the first time. 

His perfect, polished façade is starting to crack: a pink tongue licks at swollen lips, strands of dyed hair falling on to his forehead, and wrinkled clothing tugged out of place.

He’s lead over to the small couch stuffed into the office easily, a nervous laugh bubbling from him a he follows where you guide him. You sit and tug on the waistband of his black slacks to bring him down to you. Your strength makes him all but fall into your lap, his legs hastily rearranging and spreading wide so he can straddle your thick thighs. Max’s large hands fumble until they find the back of the couch to inadvertently cage you in, but he’s the one trapped in here with you. He’s perched over you now, and it only takes a tilt of your head and an extension of your neck to take his mouth and let him taste the hunger he’s stoked with his clumsy attempts at manipulation. 

It’s a greedy thing: teeth and tongue and lips, all taking what he so easily offered with attention and practiced charm. You squeeze his thighs, the fabric a tight stretch over the soft muscles straining there and move up to his waist. His stomach jumps and is sucked in when you smooth a hand over it, and you chuckle. 

A sharp bite to his lips makes him gasp and draws his focus away from your hands, relaxing that stomach back into them. You stroke him there as a reward.

“Please be gentle.” He says, the plea pushed from the edge of his teeth as his tongue darts out for another taste. 

His skin is changing color now and fear pangs in your chest as you check his make-shift blindfold. You aren’t ready to give this morsel up yet, not when it had come to you so willingly. His eyes are still protected and when you press your lips to that skin where it’s framed by his open shirt, it’s warm, so very warm without a hint of the coolness of stone., and accompanied by a steady heartbeat. His beautiful golden skin is reddening, not greying, and you follow the line of change, up his chest to his collarbone, up to his neck and over his chin to where it comes to rest in the roundness of his cheeks. It even spreads to his ears and the bright red lobe is hot when you take it between your lips and teeth. 

Max shudders when you slip your hands under his jacket to push it from his shoulders, keeping him balanced as he shimmies it off to the floor without your instruction. 

“I’ll be gentle as long as you’re good. You want to be good, don’t you?” You watch every shift of his expression: the way his nostrils flare and his mouth tightens just a little. 

His suspenders dig into the meat of his shoulders and you brush those off too, following them down to where they fall around his waist. You guide his hands behind his back and wrap the stretchy material of the suspenders around his wrists to secure them there. This position forces his back to arch, and he chokes on a gasp when his hardening cock presses into your belly.

His chest is presented to you now, the dark freckles standing out against the reddened skin and you mouth at them. 

His whimper is sweet when you pull his hands away a little further from his body, forcing his hips into yours even more. They move, rubbing and grinding into you and you wonder if he’s aware of the little movements.

“No, that’s not right, is it, Maxwell? You don’t want to be just good. You want to be the best.” 

He’s falling apart in your lap, crumbling at your touch and showing the truth of his humanity that he’s done his best to hide away. What a beautiful gem to add to your collection.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Kinktober 2022 - Prologue 

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

Wordcount: 670

Rating: E

Warnings: guilt, neglecting, discussions of kinks, flirting

Masterlist Kinktober 2022

Prompt List by @absurdthirst

He frowned as he scrolled through his outlook calendar. 

Max had a long day at the office. Not the first long day at the office. He couldn’t remember the last time he went home at a reasonable hour. 

His guilty conscience came back full force whenever he thought of you, waiting for him at home. 

Maxwell and you had been married for almost twelve years. 

You had started out as his secretary (what a cliche right?) but now you were a businesswoman on your own with a very successful jewellery brand that made millions. 

He was beyond proud of you. 

But things had been hard in the last couple years. Black Gold was struggling and Max did everything in his power to save the company. And finally it seemed that his efforts were paying off. 

Black Gold was number three state wide in the renewable energy sector.

But he had to admit. It was hard to pull back from working 15 hour days for years to getting back to normal working hours. 

And he could finally afford it. To take time for himself. To take time for you. 

But there was always something left to do. Always something to take care of. An email to write, a phone call to make. 

He had to seriously change his priorities. 

He wanted to cancel the meeting with Carter tomorrow morning to have the whole day free to spend with you when he found that the meeting was already cancelled. He scrolled through his calendar, noticing several hours blocked in red, marked with private, everyday throughout the month of october. 

He was about to ask his assistant what this was about when an email arrived from you. 

Mr. Lord,

In my position as your wife (and former assistant, you really should change your passwords honey) I took the liberty to block time throughout the month of october to spend with me, your wife. You may ask yourself, why october? Why different amounts of hours? Why on different day times?

Well first, because these times worked best with both of our schedules. 

And…

Can you remember the last time we had sex? Because I can’t and I’m getting tired of using my hand. So to save my sanity, libido and get some… spice into our marriage we will try something called kinktober where we try out a new kink everyday throughout october.  

I love you and I want to be with you and not just sleep in a bed next to you when you come home after work exhausted. I love you for what you accomplished with your business in the last years, but now it’s time to take some time for us. 

I already chose the kink for tonight but we’ll decide together for the rest.

Your safe word is strawberry. Mine is peach.

I’ll see you when you get home. I’ll be naked.

Xo

Your wife

Max couldn’t stop the small tugging on his lips as he read your message. 

It seemed like both of you wanted to spend more time together. And you were right, he could not remember the last time the two of you had sex. 

Real sex. 

Not the rushed five minutes before he had to leave or you being so tired at night you fell asleep beneath him (his ego had taken a while to recover from that)

He clicked on the list you added, his eyes getting big as he read through all the kinks you had already marked your favourites from. 

You also had added some notes and he smiled, adding his own notes. 

He looked at the clock, noticing it was almost midnight already. He had spent the last three hours writing back and forth with you instead of going home. 

Leaving the office now he texted you. 

I’ll be waiting for you naked in our bed you texted back. 

He chuckled to himself, grabbing his stuff before he made his way out of his office. 

October was going to his new favourite month.

[coastielaceispunk]

The Gift of Lingerie

Kinktober22: Lingerie/Stockings with Maxwell Lord

Maxwell Lord x f!reader 

A Man’s World-Verse

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Language, established relationship, family fluff, switch!Maxie and switch!reader, lingerie kink (men’s and women’s), edging, some orgasm denial, thigh riding, lots of praise (good boy and good girl), light mocking, touch of begging, dry humping, fingering, oral f receiving, unprotected PinV, creampie, cumplay.

Masterlist | Kinktober Outline | Absurdthirst’s Kinktober Prompt List

+++++ 

It is finally Friday. The Friday you’ve been looking forward to for quite a while now. A Friday of surprises for your dear husband, Maxwell. He has been such a good boy and deserves the gifts you are about to bestow on him today. He also has a very big day of meetings as an investor of a new green-energy wind farm company, and it's been forever since he has had to business up and perform. So, yes, Max deserves his treats and deserves to enjoy them with you.

You leave earlier in the morning than he does, so as part of your routine you lay out his pressed black slacks, white button down, and deep burgundy tie. This morning is a little more open because Alistair is away at Science Camp for a long weekend; he was so excited to finally go. Talked about it all summer. Max, on the other hand, was reluctant, “He’s just growing up so fast.” Sweet man is so worried and stressed he needs the distraction, and comfort, today.

After making sure his jacket is hanging ready, you place his white undershirt and one last touch. His first treat of the day and accompanying card of encouragement, luck, and instructions. 

Prior to leaving, you turn to take him in, still sleeping. Max is twisted in the sheets, laying face down in his pillow with his arms above his head, his bare back exposed and so kissable. His beautiful face is relaxed and his open mouth is releasing little snores. Damn he’s adorable. All rumpled and soft. You plant a little good-bye kiss on his temple and he smiles lazily in his slumber. After one last rub of his warm back, because you can’t help yourself, you pull away to depart so you don’t wake him. He still has forty-five minutes before his alarm. Off to the office you go, excited to see the state he is in when you return home to him.

+++

Max wakes to his offensive alarm with a jolt. As he sits up with a groan, he rubs the remaining sleep from his eyes, then it sets in why he is up this early. His nerves start to take over while he sips his cup of coffee, coffee you had made during your morning routine, and they only get worse during his shower. Max finds himself staring at the water running down his arms. He is zoning out, but he's got to get himself together. He can do this. 

With his towel around his waist he drys his curls and steps back out into the bedroom. The house is so quiet without you or Alistair here. It's now that he realizes he doesn’t like to be alone anymore. Thinking of how far he has come, his gaze finds where you have set out his clothes for the day. Max throws the smaller towel on the bed and mutters, “Oh sweetheart, I don’t deserve you.” He speaks it into the empty room like you can hear him.

There’s a note and something wrapped in gray tissue paper on top of his undershirt.

“What’s this?”

My dearest Husband,

You will be amazing today, tell your nerves you’ve got this because you do! I believe in you, my love. Seriously though, being a little nervous is natural and hopefully I can offer you a tiny distraction so you can be your best! Open your first treat of the day now…I will wait.

Max reaches for the gift with a shining grin, thinking he couldn't love you more  than he does right now in this moment, then he opens the paper and his smile falls as his jaw drops at what he sees.

Maxwell, I want you to wear these sexy black briefs under your work clothes today, feel the silky material all day, and most importantly…for me baby…DO NOT COME. If you’re a good boy you will get the rest of your treat right when I get home, and all night long. I can’t wait to see you in them. 

Be good pretty boy, and do great!

I love you Maxie!

“Fuck sake,” Max breathes as he picks up the black material to feel it through his fingertips, “how am I supposed to…”

Soft. Silky. Smooth. It feels so fucking good in his hands. He has to wear them…for you. Now he is excited for the day. He rips his towel off and slides the briefs up his long legs, when he settles the waistband at his hips…he moans. Max can’t help it when he roughly grabs his cock over the soft material to adjust himself in the crotch. Fuck. He starts to stroke his growing length, he was already half hard from your note alone. When he shudders he remembers your words and reluctantly removes his palm. He will be hard as a rock all day.

Max finishes getting dressed, learning just how sensitive he is to the silky briefs. Every major movement rubbing his cock just right and he curses his love for lingerie. He knows why you did this, he knows you know he is very tactile and gets so turned on by the soft sensations. Having something on his person all day making him this hot will be a challenge, one in which he gladly accepts for you. 

His ride to the meeting is pretty uneventful, except for the fact that he has remained hard in his slacks. The less movement he makes, the less he will have to strangle a groan in his throat. It's only when he’s moving from standing to sitting, and vice versa, does it really get him, so the long meetings help. Max had to cover a whimper with a cough just once when he got too comfortable and rolled his hips to situate in his seat. Big mistake. Directly after that meeting he nearly ran to the bathroom to shove his hand down his pants in the stall to relieve some of the pressure. So soft. So smooth against his sensitive tip. Fuck. Max releases himself with a growl, your words echoing in his head…DO NOT COME.

You have never edged him for this long. He can’t stand it and he loves it. His dick rests tucked in his waistband for the rest of the day, with no sign of ever softening in the silky underwear.

+++

All day you think of Max. Is he enjoying his challenge? Is he following your instructions? He’s a good boy, he will. Oh, he’s going to be a needy mess, it’s going to be a great night. You’re so eager to get home to him now you’re holding the wheel too tight as your thoughts of Maxie start to run wild.

You’ve known about his infatuation with lingerie and stockings for a long while. He’s like most men, they love their pretty girl wrapped in something sexy and dainty and alluring. You learned quickly it was a little more for Maxwell. He loves the look sure, but he also gets off on the feel. His fingertips love to trace the lace edges and seams all over your body. He loves the look of his hand tightly underneath the patterns and see through material. He can’t keep his hands off your legs when you are walking around in your thigh highs. You have been late to many dinners and events due to him rubbing up against you while you get ready in the mirror. Him being so desperate with his hands and cock makes you wet just thinking about it. You always give in to him and let him take you. Max gives and takes pleasure so damn well.

Max also loves lingerie because he can ruin it. He worships you in it most times but then there are the more feral times where he wants nothing more than to stain it and rip it off of you. You secretly hope he didn’t ruin his new briefs today because you want to watch him do it. In the past you’ve taken your discarded nylons and jerked him off with them in your hand, squeezing them around his cock. Max was so loud you had to shove your other nylon in his mouth and he came so quickly it surprised both of you. He made you come five times that night.

All your reminiscing made your drive home quick and you are now pulling in the driveway. You turn the key in the front door and as soon as you walk in you are greeted by Max’s hands on either side of your face pulling you into a desperate, hungry kiss. He is dressed only in his long robe, loosely open, with his silky black briefs underneath. So hot. 

“Hi, baby, how are you?” You grin into his kisses placing your hands onto his exposed freckled chest in an attempt to calm him down.

“Please, darling, I was so good all day. I didn’t come. I waited for you like you said. Please. Please.” Max begs in between harsh pants with his mouth on yours. You glance down to see just how needy he is and gasp, the thin fabric hiding nothing, the large damp spot darkening the briefs from a full day of leaking pre-cum.

“I believe you, baby boy,” you reach down to cup his balls and he whines, “you feel so good filling out these sexy little briefs, Maxie. You’re almost too big, look at you, so needy.”

Max whimpers as he latches his mouth to your neck, his hands pushing off your blazer and bag. 

“Are you ready for your next surprise, handsome?”

He nods his head vigorously and his hands grab at every part of you as you continue to stroke him over his underwear. You haven’t even left the foyer and his knees are already faltering under your touch. That’s when you turn in his tight grasp. “Look baby,” you place a hand on the back of his neck so he looks down to watch as you hike up your sensible black pencil skirt to reveal his other gift. 

Max moans in your ear, deep and hot, while staring at the tops of your thighs as you unveil your burgundy red garter belts that connect your new matching lace lingerie and nude stockings. His hands roughly grab your hips, his fingers slinking under the edges of the lace immediately. As you push your ass back against his cock, pulling his lips to yours with the leverage, you whisper, “I matched your tie today, and I wore my lingerie all day, just like you baby boy, and I can confirm I am just as wet as you are.”

That’s when Max snaps with a growl and pushes you against the front door. He rips your blouse off, buttons flying in every direction, so he can see the rest of you. The rest of his present. He pulls your skirt down and over your ass and it drops to the floor alongside his robe. The both of you stand pressed flush against each other in the foyer of your home with nothing on but sexy lingerie.

Max starts to dry hump the round of your ass, making the most erotic sounds. He cannot help himself and it’s so fucking hot. You hold on to the back of his neck and his thick forearm for dear life as he ruts you into the door. 

“That’s it, Maxie, come in your new underwear. Ruin them, I know you want to. Then you can ruin mine too.”

“Fuck! Fuuuck…” Max’s hips stutter then he stills when he lets out a ragged cry. He comes for a long time, you can feel him pulsing at your lower back as he holds you tight to him caressing the lingerie under your breasts. His breathing is harsh as he slumps against you further. “Oh my fucking god, that felt fucking amazing, I need more, please sweetheart, I’m still hard and I need to be inside of you, please.”

You lean off the door and pull him by his hand to the bedroom, he’s a little sluggish after such a powerful orgasm but he's ready and on you as soon as he pushes you onto the bed. You feel him throb within his soaked briefs when he lays his weight on your body. Edging him all day was so worth it. 

After having his tongue in your mouth for a few minutes, Max finally starts to really appreciate what you’re wearing for him. He bites at the deep red dainty straps. He mouths your nipples through the thin lace, making you moan his name. He caresses your stomach where the teddy beautifully lays across it, sliding his large hand underneath appreciating the pattern. Then his hot mouth finds your clit over the lace and he hums, “So wet for me, darling, so beautiful.”

“Always for you, Maxie.” 

Then he has you panting in a matter of seconds as he hungrily sucks on the fabric stretched over your cunt. His hands squeezing your ass, holding you to his face. When he opens his lips wide to have all of you in his mouth, you look down, shocked by the sensation to find him watching you with lust blown hooded eyes. Max is drunk on you, has been since you walked through the door. You whine, it’s so much and not enough. Max doesn’t hesitate knowing what you need and bites the seam of your lingerie to move it to the side. You yelp and grab at the sheets frantically. That's when he inserts two thick fingers into your pussy.“Here, sweetheart, something for you to come on before I give you my cock.”

As he starts to fuck you on his fingers, Max leans back to take you in and remove his ruined underwear. He moves to straddle your leg as he keeps his pace that has you writhing beneath him. Max starts to rock back and forth over your stocking covered thigh and groans as the soft material gives him some much needed friction. You place your hand on his hip as he times his soft thrusts with his hand between your legs. You can’t help but stare at his strong body, the freckles over his stomach that you’ve mapped and kissed, the ripple of his muscles as he moves above you. You’re so close, your eyes rolling back, and then you scream when he presses his soiled briefs against your swollen clit with his thumb.

“Isn’t - it…doesn’t - it - feel - amazing,” Max pants above you and then you’re seeing stars as your orgasm rips through you and soaks his hand. “Fuck, sweetheart, I could come again just like this, but I have to be inside this sweet cunt.”

You’re still reeling from your release as you feel him situate between your thighs and thrust into your pussy with one steady push. You moan and he moans back at you. He hikes your legs up around his waist, his soft tummy pressed against your own, and that's when you realize you are still very much clothed in your lingerie. Max never removed a thing from you. He is really enjoying his treat. 

“Maxie,” you whine as he sets a brutal pace, both of you slightly overstimulated.

“Maaxiee,” he whines back at you, “I love when you’re so fucked out all you can do is cry my name. Such a good girl, treating me so well today. Thank you darling, now come again on my cock, one more baby, and I will fill you up.”

All you can do is whimper and pant as he fucks you deep into the bed, the canopy frame swaying above you. You worked him up all day and this is your reward. Fuck yes. 

Max sucks on your nipple over the lace as his fingers find your clit again to throw you over the edge. He fucks you hard as you come all around him, clenching him tight inside you. Max bares his teeth, chasing his own second release, and with the remaining energy you have you unlock your ankles to caress his ass and thighs with your nylon covered legs. His eyes roll back at the sensation. “Oh fuck yes,” he chants and then he stills deep inside you, his mouth open for a silent cry as his face contorts into ultimate ecstasy. His cock throbs as he pumps you full of his come and he shudders when he falls on top of you, spent. 

After a few moments catching your breath, stuck together with sweat, he leans up sharing a sloppy kiss. He pulls out of you with a groan then smiles down at himself and the mess you’ve made together.

“What is it?”

“I just feel incredible, darling, this is the first time all day my cock hasn’t been hard as steel.”

You both laugh, and then you quietly gasp as his fingers lightly touch your puffy lips to collect some of your combined release, Max becomes entranced as he drags it over the delicate lace over your stomach. All you can do is sigh happily as he ruins your lingerie too. 

“I am so happy you enjoyed your treats, baby boy, you deserved them.” 

Max kisses you again before getting up to stretch and get you cleaned up, but you follow him to the bathroom. You wrap your arms around his tummy and look at him in the mirror, he’s glowing and relaxed, just how you wanted him.

“Why don’t you undress me, handsome, we can shower and you can tell me all about your meetings over take out?”

“Okay, my darling, but promise me you only put lingerie back on, it’s still early and I want to make love to you all night.”

You agree with grabby hands over his tummy and he smiles.

“Oh, and, we need to see about getting me more of those silky briefs, today was exhilarating!” 

With a mischievous smile you bring your lips to his ear while locking eyes in the mirror, “Don’t you worry, baby boy, I bought the three pack.”

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A/N: No regular taglist for Kinktober but I will tag my beautiful beta @lowlights, @littlemisspascal, and @absurdthirst for the inspo. Thanks for reading loves!

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