#maxwell lord fluff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wardenparker · 1 year ago

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In the Heights, part 2

Maxwell Lord x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.1k Warnings: Domestic fantasies/fluff, friends to lovers, Alistair being adorable, food/alcohol mentions, cursing. Fingering, vaginal sex, protected sex, praise/worship. Summary: Your relationship with Max grows quickly after that fateful night. Notes: Part 2 of 2! Max deserves nice things, too, and I will not apologize for that 💖 Again, apologies for any missed typos or the like. I'm still on a buttload of cold medicine. Thanks for reading!

Max’s heart is in his throat as he takes your hand to lead you to his bedroom. The last woman he had kissed had been Barbra, and it hadn’t been under the most honest of circumstances. The last woman he had slept with? Well, he didn’t want to admit to that.

Your identical apartments make it easy to navigate in the darkness of night, as Max flips off each switch as you follow the hall to the master bedroom. “It’s okay.” You murmur quietly, convinced that this time you did see his hand shake as he shut off the light. “I’m nervous, too.”

“It– it has been a long time for me.” He admits quietly, trying not to let himself feel guilty for not being a more accomplished lover.

“For me, too.” The last light is the one in his bedroom and that one is flipped on instead of off, letting him see you smile softly. “We don’t have to do anything tonight if it’s too much. We can just lay in bed and talk and maybe have a kiss goodnight, if that’s what you want.”

“I think we would both be disappointed.” Max squeezes your hand and shakes his head. “I think we have waited long enough, no?” If you changed your mind, he would respect that, but he wants to touch you.

“Oh, definitely.” Your fingers lace through his and your smile turns beaming. “I was just trying to be considerate.”

Instead of saying something, Max steps closer to you and leans in, dropping his lips onto yours. Starting another kiss that makes his toes curl and his cock twitch.Wiping hesitation from your mind, your back bends to accommodate the kiss, welcoming him closer and bringing him tight against you with one arm. The other hand grasps blindly for his door knob to give you both privacy. When the door clicks shut, he pushes you against it. Pressing against you while he gropes for the lock. His other hand on the back of your neck as his tongue slides into your mouth.

The whimper it earns him is deep, coming up from somewhere in the vicinity of your toes and rolling along your spine until your whole body is on fire with wanting. Sliding your tongue along his is like a long-awaited homecoming and you swallow each other’s moans eagerly. Maybe it’s been a while for both of you, but that possibly only makes you all the more enthusiastic.

It feels amazing, holding you close and feeling like he isn’t going to be pushed away and rebuked. Or feel like he hadn’t measured up.

Your fingers are faster than your mind, finding the buttons on his shirt before you can even have the conscious thought of wanting him naked. The fact that that is even a possibility makes you feel like you're about to burst – and makes your hands work even faster.

Max cannot even fathom the luck he must have for this to be possible. His hands ghost up and down your sides before he starts to unbutton your own blouse. “Hermosa.”

Fumbling fingers seem not to care all that much for focus – knowing their task but going about it clumsily as the taste of his lips and the glide of his tongue prove more intoxicating than any drink you could possibly have had at the bar. When the last button on Max’s shirt is finally open you groan in frustration to find another layer underneath – the man wearing a proper undershirt even in the summer heat - and you nudge him back from the door to the bed. “It’s coming off,” you insist, pushing the short-sleeved button up off his shoulders. “Every stitch of it.”

He hums, slightly shuddering when he feels your fingers on his bare shoulder. He should be self conscious, wondering if he is too soft, too hard, too tan for you, but none of those concerns seem to materialize. Not when you look at him like he is a god. Your bra is pretty, practical and when he sees the white lace, it thrills him and his hands come up to cup the weight, feeling it in his hands with a loud groan. "You too, I want– I want to see all of you." He admits breathlessly. "Touch all of you."

"You can." All of you. To hear him shake with the words like they're some kind of gift is so gratifying, and you reach back to undo your bra and cast it aside as easily as breathing. If he wants all of you? He can have every inch. A part of you truly always has been his anyway.

Max has always liked breasts, the sight and feel of them wonderful in his hands or when he noticed a woman’s cleavage. He wasn’t a cad, he didn’t leer, but he is close to leering now. Hands hovering over your skin now that it is bare and feeling the heat radiating off your skin. “Beautiful.” He praises softly. “Perfection.”

Your laugh is so soft that he almost misses it, but the smile on your lips is unmistakable when you step forward to press your breasts into his open, tentative hands. "They're better if you actually touch them."

Max groans and shakes his head, only slightly embarrassed by his near frozen reaction to your bare breasts. “You are teasing me, but I do not mind.” He declares, squeezing them gently before brushing his palms over your nipples.

The truth is that you wouldn't tease him if you didn't find it so endearing, but the explanation is wiped from your mind the second he brushes the hard peaks of your nipples, making you moan. He can explore all he likes - take all night finding out what each of your favorite places to be touched is - but he's damn well going to be naked doing it and your own hands reach for his belt again eagerly.

It had been a long time since someone touched him so eagerly. Genji was as inexperienced as he was, and after a while, her eagerness waned when he proved his attention was elsewhere. Chasing the unattainable.

His legs hit the bed frame first, backs of his knees buckling when he nearly topples over, but his belt hits the floor well before that can happen. That sound - metal clicking on metal and leather thudding on the rug - seems to release all inhibitions. The slow and methodical undressing is instantly over, and you lean forward to claim his lips in a frantic renewed kiss as clothing flies in every direction.

The slacks you are wearing confuse him for a moment, making him growl into your mouth. Why are they zippered on the side of your waist? The kisses don’t break as he fumbles and finally gets the damn things undone without just ripping the pants, although the worst thing would have been if he had tried and failed to rip your clothes off of you. Pushing them down desperately before nearly crying out in pleasure when your hand wraps around his cock.

Your own groan is lower than his, feeling the heft and thickness of him in your hand and luxuriating in the fact that you're actually here with him. "Can't wake Alistair," you remind him between shallow breaths, the sound catching in your throat when you feel his fingers tentatively catch at the dripping entrance of your pussy. "Fuck Max."

“Say that again.” He begs, turning you both so that you roll over onto your back and he is hovering over you. His eyes burn with need as his fingers begin a slow, measured tour around your entrance and up through your folds. Wanting to learn what makes you say his name just like that, so he can do it every time he touches you.

"Fucking hell." He's slowed his pace again, watching every minute expression on your face, and you have to wonder if this is some kind of study he's made of you on other things or if he just desperately wants to hear his name from your lips again. Either way, it slips from you as easily as breathing when two of his fingers slide into your entrance. Your eyes widen and your fingernails dig into his shoulder but "Max!" is clear and desperate as you writhe beneath him.

It’s been so long since Max has held this kind of control. Over himself, over someone else, and he loves it. The groan from the hot clutch of your pussy rubbles out of his throat, several octaves deeper than normal and he curls his fingers up as he pushes them deep. Eager to see how you enjoy the thickness of his digits.

"Fuck–fuck." You might have been the one that reminded him to be quiet but that doesn't mean you aren't going to let him know exactly what he does to you. You spread your legs wider instinctively. He may only have two fingers inside you but it feels like more from how thick they are. All of him is thick, cock included, but you lost your grip on him when he rolled you over and now you're swimming in pleasure. "More," you beg brokenly, hips moving like they have a mind of their own.

He nods even though your eyes are closed. Leaning in and kissing along your shoulder and neck as he slowly starts to push his fingers in and out of your tight cunt. “Te amo, mi amor.” He hasn’t tried to use his native tongue in so long, it feels rusty, foreign in his mouth, although those words seem to come straight from his battered heart.

"Te amo." As easy and honest as the words are, they fill you up and wash over you with a warmth that you can't possibly describe. The crashing of that emotion over your heart is as earnest as the roll of your hips against his hand, and the fingers of one hand come up to thread through his hair and encourage his mouth to explore your body. "Siempre, mi amor." Always.

His kisses scatter over your skin, although he feels the slight pressure of your hand. He lets you guide him, finger still pumping into you easily as he opens you up more, pressing deeper every time your hips roll down. Kissing across your breast, he moans as he takes your nipple into his mouth.

The chain reaction through your body is almost immediate - back arching off the bed, toes curling, and mouth opening to let out the deepest and most indulgent moan that reverberates through the room. The pace of his fingers is perfect, the wet heat of his mouth on your chest making you feel like you might short circuit before he's even inside you. "Just like that," you sigh out, hips rolling down to meet his hand on every stroke. "Oh fuck–fuck– 'm so close baby."

He groans around the stiff peak of your nipple and grazes it with his teeth. Enjoying the way your pussy clenches down around him wildly now. “Cum for me, amor.” He rasps out, sucking on your tit again after managing those words and watching your face intently.

To hear those words from him is something of a miracle, and one that you don't think you will stop being grateful for no matter how many times you hear it. There is no reason to hold back, no propriety you have to obey, only pleasure. Only his voice begging you to flood his hand with liquid heat and bring you that much closer together. It's an incredible thing, to find yourself chasing your peak on his fingers, and your hips take on an erratic speed as you do just that. Uneven breaths become a shuddering gasp in mere minutes and your entire body seems to seize as it bares down on him, that gorgeous tingling in your spine and belly bursting as when you moan his name just the moment before you start to cum.

Besides the moment he held Alistair, this has to be the most beautiful moment of Max’s life. Throbbing against your hip, he swears he could cum himself as he feels your pleasure fill his hand and coat his fingers in a liquid rush of heat. Making him moan your name as your hips jerk in pleasure.

"Max." His name comes in pants as you float back to earth, but your whines are from blissed out pleasure and not a single damn thing else. "Do you—" Thoughts and movements aren't quite lining up, as you point to the bedside table but duck your head to steal a kiss. "Condoms?”

Thanking God that you had thought about that, for Max surely hadn’t, he presses kiss after kiss to your lips and he reluctantly pulls his fingers free from your warmth so he can fumble with the drawer. He had bought some long ago, but it wasn’t like he was using them. Hopefully they were still in date.

You would have sprinted back across the hall to get some from your own room if you had to, but luckily Max comes away from the drawer with a foil packet in his hand. “Perfect,” you hum, still catching your breath as you reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock one more time.

“Shit.” Max hisses, his entire body shuddering from the touch and he can’t help but rock his hips forward. “I don’t– I don’t know how much I will please you.” He confesses quietly. “It has been a long time since I’ve been with someone.”

“Amor…” your free hand cups his cheek, thumb gently running along his jawline to coax him open for a sweet kiss. “I am not suggesting we train for Olympic medals in stamina tonight. I just… I only want to feel you.”

He is comforted by that, hating when he feels inferior as he so often does. “I want to make sure that you enjoy yourself.” He bites his lip and leans in to kiss you again.

If you could, you would promise him you aren’t worried about that. At all. But you’re too busy moaning into his kiss for any words to be coherent. Instead you hitch your leg up on his hip, encouraging him to fill that so e between you — and inside you.

He has to break the kiss, needing to open the packet and roll the protection down his length so that he can finally make love to you. He’s already sweating when he hovers over you on his knees, looking down at you spread out in invitation and he groans softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You have for so many years that it feels like taking a deep breath to finally say so. It feels like bursting, and you don’t mind admitting it in the least.

He moves slowly, savoring the moment as he presses close and starts to break you open on his cock. Rocking forward as he tries to keep his weight off you and kiss you gently.

It’s a big feeling for such a gentle movement. As a grown man, every part of Max is thick. It’s a departure from the lanky, rail thin boy he once was, and this version of him surrounds and fills you in a way you hadn’t expected. He blocks the whole world out – and becomes your whole world. Although you have to admit, as your mouth falls open on a drawn on, bliss filled moan, a part of him always has been.

He’s overwhelmed and groaning with you. It’s the closest to heaven that he’s ever been. His eyes flutter as he continues to stretch you out until he is full seated and panting.

“Need you to move, baby.” As good as he feels fully seated inside you, you have no doubt that it will feel twice as amazing with the friction building in your cunt.

“Okay.” He grunts out, nodding quickly and his hand curls into a fist as he pulls his hips back. Hating pulling out of you, as you are so tight and hot.

“Oh fuck—” As soon as he draws back the wave of pleasure rippling through your body gets stronger, and you whine on the next thrust forward. Your body is aching with wanting him, no part of you more desperate than your grasping pussy.

He rolls his hips forward with slow, determined purpose. His fist is curled still, teeth clenched together as he tries to hold himself back. Wanting to last in this perfect moment for as long as he can. “B–beauti–ful.” He groans.

Wandering hands map his body, committing the peaks and valleys of him to memory. Taking all of him in as you set a slow but steady pace together that promises to be the first of many nights like this. There is no questioning that fact, and you commit yourself to deep kisses and the feeling of home in being in his bed. There is not a moment of this night that isn’t perfect in all its imperfect glory.

Soft grunts and groans accompany every thrust. Barely keeping it together and pushing for more, Max feels like this is probably the pinnacle of his life. Nothing could get better than this. You love him, you want him, your body soft and pliant under his tells him that. Every wordless praise being moaned into his ear makes him stronger.

Giving yourself over to the moment means losing track of everything else. All that matters is the feeling of Max above you - bending your knees back, angling your hips just so, mouthing at your breasts and neck and jaw in alternation with drowning kisses. He surrounds you fully, building you up toward another undeniable peak.

“Please.” His groan is almost a prayer, chanted into your skin as he works you both towards that goal. Hoping he is dragging you along as he tries to touch and feel every part of you. His fingers find your clit as he pushes a hand between you to fumble inelegantly for a moment before he finds the right spot.

"Max–fuck–" Your hips buck when his fingers skate over your clit, legs shaking at the intensity and sensitivity in that nub as you sprint closer to a second orgasm. "So good, baby, you fuck me so good and I'm so close."

He moans, eyes closed as he absorbs the praise, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts to give you that extra sensation. “Wanna feel you amor.” He rasps out next to your ear. “Cum for me.”

For your entire adult life (plus a few years) you would have given anything to hear his voice dip and purr like that. You’ve imagined it so many times that it almost feels surreal. But hearing it for real - close to your ear and punctuated with labored pants and groans all his own - the effect is almost instant. Your body shakes apart at the seams, washing your mind away on a sea of pleasure and letting a torrent of praises loose with his name. If you could fuse the two of you together body and soul, this would be the moment it happened, but as it is you’ll just have to settle for giving him those last pieces of your heart and trusting him to keep them safe.

Choking out an inhuman sound, Max tries to keep from cumming. It’s like trying to hold back an avalanche with a snowboard. Jerking to a stop halfway through a thrust, he slams his hips forward and buries himself in the spasming confines of your body and whimpers your name as his world comes apart at the seams.

His bedroom had been so full of sound only seconds ago, but it quiets to heavy breathing and a few shaky moans after he collapses on top of you, sticky seed collected harmlessly in the condom for tonight. Sometime later you’ll address the keen burst of wishing he had painted your womb with it instead. That is a thought for another day. For now you dust his face and shoulders in kisses and hold him close, cradling his bulk on top of you like a precious treasure.

“Fuck.” Max pants, unable to move off of you even if he knows he is heavy. “That- please tell me you enjoyed it.” He begs, wanting to know that he didn’t disappoint you.

“Baby.” You giggle, unable to keep even false admonishment in your tone. “You’re amazing.”

He sighs in relief, the weight off his mind and he groans as he shifts off of you, hating that he has to pull out. He could sleep inside you. “Good. That is good.”

The two of you roll to your sides, letting go of each other only long enough for him to toss the tied-off condom in the bin by the bed before he turns back to you. “Is it…okay if I stay the night?” At the moment you’re not quite sure you could manage to walk back across the hall, but if he doesn’t want Alistair to ask questions or have any hint of things you’ll respect that fully.

“You want to- of course.” He nods, grinning eagerly as he strides back over and then stops quickly. “Let me get you water.” He decides. “You need it. And some aspirin. I’ll be right back.”

“You need it, too,” you remind him. He was right there beside you at the bar tonight, after all.

He doesn’t put on his underwear because he knows Alistair won’t wake up. He is a very deep sleeper when he finally drifts off.

Max reemerges a few minutes later with a bottle of aspirin and two glasses of water and you grin at him from your place in his bed. “So…” you giggle again quietly. “This happened…”

“This happened.” He can’t help but grin again, glancing down at his flaccid cock and soft belly. “No regrets?”

“Never,” you promise him.

He smiles, slightly self conscious and slips into the bed beside you. “Do you mind if I set an alarm?” He asks, hoping he doesn’t offend you. “I want to be up before Alistair is.” He explains.

“Of course.” The last thing he wants is to surprise his little boy with something so huge and you completely understand that. “I can…go back across the hall? If you want? It's up to you how much he knows or how soon.”

“No.” He is frowning and shaking his head as he slides his arm around you to pull you close. “I don’t want that. I just want to make sure that we tell him, not him discovering us together.”

“You want to tell him right away?” The only other man you had ever dated with a child had insisted on waiting more than six months to tell his little girl, and while you had understood it had made you feel a little bit like a dirty secret. “I—I mean, if that’s what you want, I’m all for it. I just didn’t expect it.”

“I don’t mind telling Alistair.” He frowns slightly. “I think we should. I just want to make sure he understands that dating someone and being in a relationship with them includes respect.”

“Then we’ll tell him tomorrow.” You snuggle into his side, grinning like a maniac. “He’ll probably be thrilled to spend more time with the cat.”

Max snorts and tugs you slightly closer, enjoying the weight and warmth of you on him. “Probably ask you to move in with the cat.”

“One day.” The thought makes you hum happily as he pulls you in. “Maybe not right away.”

“Make sure you actually want to put up with me before that.” He cautions. “Things have changed since we were children.”

“Who knows?” He’s right, but you know in your heart that nothing has changed so much that you don’t still love him. The man who made those mistakes is not the man he truly is. “I might have things about me that you don’t want to put up with.”

"I don't care if you squeeze the toothpaste from the middle or if you snore." Max huffs, rolling his eyes. "You have always been someone I have loved and admired."

“I might snore,” you admit, tucking into his side a little deeper and grinning. “It’s been a long time since anyone was in a position to tell me.”

He hums, and curls himself around you a little tighter. "I'll tell you." He promises with a small laugh.

“Max?” With the light out and him curled around you, the urge to sleep is coming on strong.

"What is it, amor?" He keeps his voice soft, rubbing your back gently.

The honorific makes you smile, lips upturned against his chest. “I’m glad you came out with us tonight.”

"Me too." He can only be grateful that he came out, smiling as he holds you in his arms. "Me too."

******

Without the alarm you definitely would have overslept, too comfortable in each other’s arms to want to move anywhere too fast. But because it was set, you're up and making pancakes when Alistair wakes up, happily sipping a cup of coffee with the radio playing quietly in the other room while Max makes bacon beside you.

"Do you like your bacon crispy?" He asks, grateful that you reminded him to put a shirt on when the grease pops and he jumps back. "Or on the limp side?"

“Crispy, please.” Until Alistair wakes up, you’re going to enjoy kissing him and cuddling him, even at the stove.

There is a sense of rightness to cooking with you, a homeyness that he can't replicate no matter how involved he tries to be or how many new cook books he checks out of the library. You just make things better. "Crispy it is." He winks at you and lifts a shoulder. "Maybe a little black if. you distract me with more kisses."

“Oops.” You feign innocence despite not feeling guilty in the least and flip the three pancakes in your pan. “We wouldn’t want that.”

"No, we wouldn't." He drops a kiss on your temple and turns back to his own pan. "Alistair loves pancakes, you are going to win him over first thing."

“Why do you think I suggested it?” It’s just a tease, and a quick batting of your eyelashes, but when you hear little feet hit the floor at the end of the hall you can’t help but smile. “I think he’s finally up.”

"He slept in late." Max checks the clock on the wall next to the phone and then at the doorway where Alistair comes stumbling in, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Hey buddy." He greets his son happily. "Did we bother you?"

“Noooo.” Voice still full of sleep, the little boy stretches in his Star Wars pajamas and looks up at you both. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Pancakes and bacon.” Max answers with a smile at his sleepy son. “Do you want some scrambled eggs too?”

“Yes p’ease.” He nods and rubs his eyes but never takes his eyes off his father. It’s abundantly obvious to anyone who sees them together, how much Alistair loves his dad. “Can I play with Dantes today?”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Max looks over at you and then moves the pan off the stove to walk over to the boy. “Can I ask you something?” He asks, crouching down and reaching for his son.

“Are you okay, daddy?” Alistair asks, little eyebrows raising in immediate concern.

“Oh yeah.” Max assures him with a serious look. “I’m really good.” He rubs Alistair’s stomach gently and looks back at you. “I wanted to know if you would be alright with me asking your friend on a date.” He poses seriously. “Since I know how much you like her, it’s only fair I ask.”

“Like a fancy date?” Alistair’s eyes light up with vague memories of when his mother would put on dresses and go out to dinner with men or the dates that he saw in movies. “A romantical one?”

“If that’s okay.” Max nods and looks back at you before staring into his son’s soft eyes.

“It has to be someplace nice.” Alistair tells his father as seriously as possible. “She’s a nice lady.”

Max chuckles, nodding quickly. “It will be very nice.” He promises. “Perhaps you could help me pick it out. If you are okay with us dating?” He feels like his son is saying yes, but he wants to be sure.

Alistair nods enthusiastically, but when he turns to you on the other side of the stove, his large eyes are even wider than usual. “Do you want to date my Daddy?” He asks, seemingly a little afraid of the question. Or maybe the answer. The fact that he checks with you – as if you hadn’t been standing here listening the whole time – is so sweet.

“I really do, honey,” you tell Alistair honestly, feeling a wide smile bloom across your face. “I like your dad a whole lot.”

“Yay! He’s a good dad!” He promises you enthusiastically. “He didn’t spend a lot of time with me before but that’s changed and he’s playing with me every night, reading with me, he’s even reading cooking books so he can make more than macaroni and cheese.”

“Oh yeah?” Of course you did know about Max’s efforts to cook better food at home more often, but there is no reason that Alistair needs to know that the baked pasta his daddy makes him now that is loaded with meat sauce and veggies, is actually your recipe. “I think he’s a really good dad and a really good friend, so that means he’ll probably be a really good boyfriend, too.”

“I don’t know.” Alistair tells you honestly, looking back at his dad. “Are you going to bring her flowers and tell her she’s pretty? You need to tell her she’s pretty.” He insists, making Max chuckle. “I will bring her flowers and I will tell her that she’s hermosa.” Alistair frowns in confusion. “It means ‘beautiful’ in Spanish, Alistair. That is the first language I spoke when I was a boy, remember?”

“Right…” He thinks for a second, searching his memory while you pull the last pancakes out of the pan. “Sí! That’s right, isn’t it Daddy?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s right.” Max beams, not ashamed of his first language and passing it down to his son. The assholes he had grown up being tormented by could not say they spoke two languages. If he was lucky enough, Alistair would know three.

“Mrs. Ramos speaks Spanish, too.” The woman who babysat him watched her ‘stories’ after he went to bed but he could always hear them.

“She does.” He nods and smiles. “My girlfriend–” he lights up when he calls you that, “–also knows Spanish. I think we will speak more at home in the future.”

The light in your eyes brightens measurably at the word, and you nod to Alistair when the last pancakes go on the platter for the table. “The first person who ever taught me Spanish was your abuela,” you tell him with a grin. “Your grandmother. She was a very nice lady.”

Max smiles sadly, wishing that Alistair could have met her, gone long before her time. Beaten down and broken by his father. “She was.”

“You said you were friends for a long time,” Alistair follows his father to the table with a stack of napkins and forks while his father carries the platter of bacon and pancakes. “But how come we never spent time with her before?”

“We had lost touch after we went away to college.” Max admits. “I was concentrating on making myself successful.”

“Now we are better than friends.” You might combust a little anytime Max calls you his girlfriend, but it’s such a good feeling. So comfortable and so right.

Alistair thinks about Max’s explanation for a moment before he nods, accepting it as the truth. “Just don’t be dumb and kiss another girl like Jimmy Smith was last week.” He huffs. “He has no girlfriends now.”

You have to smother your reaction to keep from laughing out loud, and end up giggling behind your hand while you pour orange juice for all three of you. “That is pretty dumb.” Hell, you can’t fault the kid for getting it on the nose.

“She is the only woman I want to kiss.” Max solemnly vows, his lips twitching to keep from smiling in amusement. It’s incredibly endearing how seriously he is taking this and Max pulls him closer for a hug. “So it’s cool with you? As the kids say now?”

He seems to consider it, looking between the two adults with drawn seriousness on his face before he leans over and whispers in his father’s ear. “Does that mean she’s going to be my new mom?” He asks, careful not to sound too hopeful or too curious. Sometimes when his Mom had had a new boyfriend, she would tell Alistair that the man who would be his new daddy. But it had never happened.

Alistair nods, slowly at first like he’s absorbing the idea, but he sits down at the chair after a moment and looks up at his father again with a smile. “Okay. Just as long as we don’t move far again. That was a lot of driving and boxes and stuff.”

“Understood, not too far.” Max chuckles and has to admit that this didn’t go too badly. He hugs his son and then stands up. “Let me scramble some eggs and we will have breakfast.”

You and Alistair set the table while he’s busy, and you slip back into the kitchen to grab the syrup a few minutes later with a grin on your face. “Well, I guess he’s okay with it.”

“As long as I tell you that you’re pretty.” Max reminds you, reaching over and snagging your waist to pull you close. “So I need to tell you how pretty you are this morning. Seeing you sleeping in my bed.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice dips low and makes you shiver slightly, but you bask in it. “Did you enjoy waking up next to me as much as I enjoyed waking up next to you?”

“I think that I enjoyed it more.” He teases, leaning in and kissing your lips. “Watching your sleepy eyes open and your smile made my year, amor.”

“I love you.” The words are so easy, but make your chest feel like it could burst with joy. “So much, Max.”

“I love you too.” It’s a huge thing for such simple words, but it makes him feel as if anything is possible.

“We should go back in there.” Even though you could spend all day basking in his smiles and kissing him silly, you know weekends are devoted time to be spent with his little boy. “Maybe the three of us can go out today? A museum or a walk in the park?”

“That sounds like a good day together.” He nods. “Perhaps a trip back to the library? Alistair wants to check out some more books since he’s finished the ones he has now.”

“I love a library day.” And maybe, just maybe, you might pick up your own manuscript again. There is an idea forming in the back of your mind that seems to grow every time Max smiles at you.

“Good.” He nods. “Go sit and I will bring the food out.”

“Yes, sir.” Teasing him with a very serious little mock salute, you grab the bottle of maple syrup from the fridge and steal a kiss before heading through the breakfast table.

Max brings the plates of food through once he’s done, happy to find you and Alistair giggling at the table. He’s struck again by how right all of these seems and he grins. “Who’s hungry?”

Alistair cheers and you grin, sitting back at the table with a soft, contented sigh. This feels right, and you are very happy to just let things happen as they come.

******

“Hermosa? Alistair? Are you home?” You had left early while Max had to stay late, so he is coming through the door without you. “Hello?” His excited voice carries through the apartment and he quickly shoves his keys into the bowl and kicks off his shoes.

“In the kitchen!” You call back, having taken the extra time at home with Alistair to start on making dinner. The weather is finally cool again and the little boy you love like your own has requested posole for dinner. The recipe that you had learned from his mother back in high school has become a favorite over the last few months. “Ali is building something grand with his Legos and Dantes is supervising,” you tell Max when he comes into the kitchen. “What did you have to stay late for, amor?”

“I – I did something.” He confesses, unable to stop himself from grinning as he snags a pepper and pops it into his mouth. You have practically moved into his apartment since that day. Your clothes are over in your space simply because there is nowhere to fit them here and Dantes’ toys and cat tree are in his living room, the cat himself having claimed Alistair as his sleeping partner while you are wrapped up with Max every night.

“Should I be concerned?” Given that he looks excited you’re not too suspicious, but you put the lid on the pot to let dinner cook and go over to give him a kiss.

“Unless you do not wish for this.” Max pulls a long, flat piece of plastic out of his pocket to hand to you along with several pamphlets.

“What is it?” The little packet might as well be tied up with string for how he presents it to you, but the plastic placard slides right out into your hand first. Max Lorenzano it reads in font and style identical to the nameplate on your office at work. “What’s—?” The rest of the packet is advertisements for apartments – bigger places in newer buildings or neighborhoods uptown that you know he couldn’t afford right now but had been dreaming about. “Did you—baby did you get a promotion?”

“There was a position for a Spanish language editor.” He reminds you quietly. “I didn’t tell you, but I applied for it.” He hadn’t wanted to get your hopes up, or his own if he were honest. Or if he didn’t get the job, he didn’t want you to be upset on his behalf. He was grateful the publishing house gave him the job as a janitor, so he had no wish to sour your experience. “I had my final interview tonight. That was why I had to stay.”

“You’re kidding?” You had known the position was open, and seen some people going in and out of the Editor-in-Chief’s office, but it hasn’t been something that you had brought up because you didn’t know if it would be something he was interested in. Now, though? You practically throw your arms around him in celebration. “That’s huge! That’s amazing, it’s— baby, I’m so proud of you!”

Laughing, Max lets himself fully enjoy the moment. Clinging to you as you jostle him in your own excitement. He had been working with Alistair on the boy’s Spanish and he had decided that he would go for the position with no expectations. Luckily, his dedication to the job hadn’t gone unnoticed and he had gotten the position. “You will not mind having me come in and being an editor as well, will you?”

“Mind? Honey, it’s fantastic!” Your arms around his waist squeeze tightly again as you beam at him. Max was never happy with the idea of making a career as a janitor but he liked the company and all of your coworkers, so he was working hard and taking pride in the work that he did have. This is far more than you expected, though. “You’re going to be amazing. And—” The pamphlets in your hand now make much more sense. “Is this…an invitation?”

“I– it makes no sense for us to spend so much money on two apartments.” Max tells you, biting his lip. “I was thinking we could all look for a place and pick it out together?” His brows raise in question and he looks for the world like a hopeful little boy.

“Are you asking me to officially move in with you?” Although you’ve been effectively living together for the last six months, calling this an official move would be the next large step forward in your relationship. It would also be a big bit of permanence for Alistair.

“I am.” Reaching for your hands, Max kisses the back of them, still holding his offerings. “I want to choose the house, apartment, home where we all live - together.”

“You must have some favorites already.” You hold up the pamphlets he had brought you. “Dinner is finishing. Why don’t we look and see what’s here?”

“Of course.” Max nods eagerly. “And if you don’t like any of these, we can look elsewhere. I just wanted to get started looking and these are within a healthy budget.” One thing he had learned was to live within his means and with security comes a wealth of happiness.

“Tell me what you found.” The stools at the kitchen counter are the perfect place to talk, and you sit down together eagerly. “Are they nearby? Oh…probably not all of them? Since you mentioned maybe a house?”

“There is a townhouse.” Max admits, pulling a flier from the bottom of the stack. “It needs some work, but it’s well discounted to account for that.” He lays it on the table and his eyes flash with excitement. “In Greenwich village. And it has a garden.”

“A townhouse?” One eyebrow raises in interest as he pulls out the paperwork from the real estate agent. It’s a beautiful neighborhood, one that you sometimes go to for dates and for entertainment. You’ve both mooned over the apartments and housing there plenty of times but you never thought you could afford it. “Is the work reasonable for us to do ourselves? I don’t mind doing floors and painting and all that kind of stuff.” It actually sounds kind of exciting. The idea of fully making it your home.

“There’s some things we would need to have done.” Max admits, tapping the page. “It needs some bathroom remodel, but I think that I know someone.” He grins. “Dan says he’s got a brother who’s a contractor. Will give us a discounted rate if I teach his daughter Spanish.”

“Then we should check it out.” He’s so excited that it makes the prospect automatically more attractive immediately, and you lean forward to kiss him before shuffling through the papers some more. There is a decent-sized apartment in a different part of Washington Heights, another townhouse but this time in Brooklyn, and even a cute little house in Queens. “I wouldn’t mind a commute,” you admit, looking at the picture of the little blue house with two floors and clean white window panes.

“Anywhere you want.” Max promises, loving that you are getting excited. “I just want to live with you and Alistair and Dantes.” He chuckles. “And maybe if we have room, a dog like my son wants.”

“Be careful of giving your son whatever he wants,” you chuckle knowingly. “This afternoon he told me he’s going to ask Santa for a little brother for Christmas.”

“He is?” His eyes widen and he wonders what you said to him.

“That’s what he said.” The look of almost smothered excitement on Max’s face makes you grin. “I told him that it takes a long time to make a little brother, though. So it might take Santa a little while. This Christmas might be too soon.”

“And that’s something you want? In the future?” Max confirms.

“A baby?” You almost laugh, but it would be a little mean when he’s looking at you so earnestly, so instead you reach for both of his hands to squeeze them. “I would love it, amor. But only if you want it, too.”

“Perhaps we should focus on homes with three bedrooms.” Max dreams quietly.

“Sounds like you like the idea.” You hum softly. “A cute little place with a yard for the kids to play in and maybe even a dog to keep Dante’s company.”

“I do like the idea.” He admits it easily. It’s easy to admit what he wants with you.

“I do, too.” It’s what you have always wanted with him and you feel like you live in a dream to see it coming true. “We should check out Brooklyn and Queens.”

“Okay. I will call the realtor tomorrow.” Max agrees with a grin.

“I’ll start doing some research on schools.” It won’t be too much love lost, since Alistair hasn’t made many friends at PS 117, but you want to make sure that wherever you choose will have good schools for him. And for his little sibling.

“Thank you.” He flashes you a smile and swallows. “I start the new job on Monday.”

“I’m really so proud of you, amor.” One of your hands cups his cheek and you feel like your heart could just burst from it. “You’ve been so helpful in helping with my book that I just know you’re going to be great with everyone else’s, too.”

“I don’t understand why it has taken you so long to finish it.” He huffs. “It’s remarkable. You should have been published years ago.”

“I guess I just needed the right inspiration.” You hum, pressing a kiss to each of his hands. Somehow Max has still not picked up on the fact that the love story you have been trying to write for so many years has a male lead based on him.

“Hmmm, I don’t know about that.” He shakes his head and bites his lip as he looks towards the stove. “So if I wanted to take you and Alistair out to celebrate, tomorrow would be best?”

“I think he’d be disappointed not to have posole tonight, so tomorrow sounds good.” Still, kissing him is completely irresistible. “But tomorrow we can go wherever you want to celebrate.”

“You made posole?” He lights up and leans in to kiss you again. “You are so good to me - to us.”

“Alistair’s special request and your mom’s recipe.” You beam under his praise and grin up at him. “Gotta keep my boys full and strong so they can keep making me proud.”

“I am glad that he is enjoying parts of my heritage that I tried so hard to bury.” Max admits with a slightly bashful expression. His natural accent has come back slightly, but he has trained it out of his speech that there is only a hint of it in some words. You both have started speaking Spanish at home to help Alistair improve his own command of the language.

“We are allowed to grow and change over time, amor.” Reaching to squeeze his hand, you can only offer him support with the knowledge that he has left so much of his heritage behind because of cruelty and ignorance from your classmates. “It’s good to see both of you embracing where you come from.”

“Genji said she wants to work on his command of Chinese when he is with her.” He tells you, proud of his son’s ability to learn multiple languages before any formal offering.

“That’s fantastic.” His mother has been a little more present lately, even though she still lives in DC and Max and Alistair are firmly settled in New York. He had spent Thanksgiving with her and will be in DC for the second half of his winter break. Max and Genji are making it work and you’re proud of the way he is keeping his promises and his commitments. “If he has some favorite recipes that she makes, we can add them into the rotation here, too. So he can have his Latin and his Chinese home cooking.”

“That would be good. She used to make this crispy beef that was amazing.” Max admits. “Although there is good Chinese takeout, it’s not the same.”

“Would it be okay with you if I called her for the recipe?” Max’s ex-wife has been surprisingly supportive of your relationship since she adjusted to the news that he is seeing someone. Your history together seemed to have won her over when she learned the whole story.

“That would be good. Alistair would appreciate that.” Max would too, but the idea of creating his son’s favorite meals at home would be fun.

You want to make a joke about making sure he knows you’re Step-Mom Material, but it isn’t a topic you’ve talked about with any seriousness yet. From time to time one of you will point out a favorite place in the city and remark that it would be good for a wedding - or see a commercial for a destination vacation and hun about a honeymoon. But there aren’t any plans yet and that is more than okay.

“Do you want to go look at the houses tomorrow?” He asks, excited about looking with you. It’s different, he doesn’t want big and flashy, he wants something he can take care of you and Alistair in.

“Absolutely.” He’s so excited about it that you are more than happy to agree. “Do you want to bring Al?”

“What do you think? Give him a say? Or should we narrow down the choices and then show him?” He asks you, wanting your input. You have been great with Alistair.

“It might be overwhelming for him to see every option,” you admit, knowing that there will be plenty of reasons not to choose a place that he won’t be aware of. “Let’s see if Señora Ramos is available after we make a few realtor appointments. We can take him to see our top choices?”

“That sounds like a solid plan.” Max agrees, happy with that since that is what he was thinking. He wants his son to be included, but he’s not going to know which school district is better.

“Have I mentioned how proud of you I am?” Of course you have, but you beam at him as you shift back over to the stove to give dinner a stir.

“I don’t know if it is possible without you, amor.” He admits, sliding behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips press to your neck and he sighs. “I wish I had kissed you on prom night.”

“Maybe we’d still be right here if you had.” The warmth and breadth of him against your back is comforting and you lean into it easily. “Standing in our kitchen making dinner, with Alistair playing with his pet completely oblivious to our snuggling.”

“Maybe.” It’s a sweet and heady thought. He kisses your neck softly and smiles against your skin. “And later on, I’ll make love to you.”

"That's my favorite part of the day." With Alistair asleep in the other room, with the cat lazing about doing cat things, with the day ended and nothing but each other to focus on, ending every day in his arms is wonderful.

“Mine too.” Max chuckles. “Unless you count waking up with you drooling on my chest.” He teases. You had only done it once, but he had thought your sheepish apology was cute.

That earns him an immediate pout from you, but you know he has every right to tease you about it now and then. "Your chest is my favorite pillow," you defend, batting your eyelashes at him for effect.

“I don’t mind it.” He waggles his brows playfully. “My chest is always available for you to use as your personal pillow.”

"And I always will." You promise him. There isn't any version of your future together where you want to wake up any other way.

******

“Honey?” Max opens the door to the apartment with a huge grin on his face. You had stayed home today to work on unpacking the last of the boxes and the boss had asked him to hand deliver this package to you personally. “It’s here!”

Nearly exhausted from unpacking, you're finally breaking down the last box when you hear him in the front hall. The Greenwich Village townhouse had needed a lot of work before you could move in, but now that you're here and you're unpacked it's wonderful to have it feeling like home. "I'll be right down!" You call from the top of the stairs before shoving the folded box under your arm and wiping your face on a bandana to head down from Alistair's room.

“Hey.” His eyes light up and he sets the box down in the entryway on the table that had moved from your apartment to his to the townhouse. Rushing halfway up the stairs. He takes the boxes from you and kisses you happily. “Amor.”

“What’s here, love?” You know what you hope has arrived - what he would have brought home from work for you - but you don’t want to assume.

“Your editor has sent a first print home for you to approve.” You had wanted your boss to handle the final edits of the book and Max had understood, although he was curious as to why. Eager to see your eyes light up when you hold your book, he takes your hand and drags you down the last few steps. “Your book is printed, amor. You have done it.”

This book has been a decade in the making, as you visited the story and the manuscript on and off for years. Inspiration had slipped away from you and been stubborn in coming back right up until the day Max walked back into your life. Now, when you nervously crack open the box of first edition copies of The Shadow Rose to see the glossy image of vines ensnaring a dewy purple rose, you could really almost cry. “It’s real,” you sigh in disbelief, cradling a copy in your arms like your first-born child.

Max beams proudly, watching you absorb the moment as a bystander. While he feels incredibly satisfied that you have accomplished a lifelong goal, this is your moment. Your accomplishment. “You did it. You are a published author, amor.”

“Wait one second.” You insist, pressing a kiss to his lips before disappearing with the book into your writing room - the former home office - to grab a pen. The dedication page of the book is very deliberate. “To Max: My inspiration, my support, my biggest cheerleader, and my best friend. My first love and my better half. Thank you for everything you have done, and everything you continue to do. I have a question for you.”

Underneath, in your own scrawling handwriting, five words follow with the stroke of a pen: “Amor, will you marry me?”

You had decided to ask him months ago. During the time you were painting the master bedroom. It had been like a moment from a movie when he smeared paint on your cheek and you returned the favor - and the beaming grin on his face had seemed to call to you. This man is without a doubt, the rest of your life. So now it’s time to ask.

Max tilts his head curiously when you come rushing back into the room. “Was the camera in the other room?” He asks, knowing that he wants to take a picture of you holding the book. Something he can print out and hang up in the small little nook that had been turned into a home office for the two of you. He rubs his hands together, knowing that you might cry a little as you look through the book and he wants to take you out to celebrate your success. Treat you to champagne like you deserve.

“The first copy is for you,” you tell him, vibrating nervously as you put it in his hands. “I just wanted to make sure the dedication was right before I gave it to you.”

“For me?” He frowns slightly, confused as to why you want to give him the first copy. You should want to keep it for yourself. “You shouldn’t, amor.” He still opens the book even as he tells you that so he can reach this dedication.

You’re vibrating with anxiety when he opens the cover of the book, ready to drop down on one knee the second he looks up at you from the page. The ring has been in your pocket all week, just waiting for the box of books to arrive at your door. Now that the moment is here, the signet ring with the ornate L carved into it feels even heavier with importance.

“Amor.” Max’s jaw drops and he looks up, only to follow your body as it drops down to your knee in front of him. Humbled, elated, overjoyed and even a little jealous - he had been ring shopping - he chokes out a surprised cry and the book slams shut as he drops down to his knees with you.

“I know it’s unconventional.” Of course you’re already sniffling back tears, but you pull the ring from your pocket with a beaming smile and offer it to him with such care. “But I love you so much, and I absolutely adore Alistair and I just—” your voice cracks a little and you can’t help a small laugh as the first tear breaks through. “Tú eres el amor de mi vida. Te casarías conmigo?” You’re the love of my life. Will you marry me?

“I–” Max chokes up again, near tears and he can’t even speak, nodding furiously out of fear that he would make you think that he was turning you down. “Sí.” He manages after a moment. “Siempre.”

Once he says yes, the amount of giggling, sniffling, and kissing shared between the two of you on the living room rug is endless. Not that you would ever want it to stop, but it seems like an opening of the floodgates.

“I love you. You are-“ he shakes his head and laughs. “I was trying to find out what kind of rings you liked.” He admitted. “I’ve been asking Kim.”

“She probably told you to find something big and flashy,” you huff a laugh between tears. As your closest friend, Kim has always joked that she expected the guy you ended up with to put no less than the Hope Diamond on your finger — while you would proudly sport the prize from a Cracker Jacks box as long as it came from the right man.

“She did.” Max chuckles. “Then she told me that you would actually love a sapphire or emerald engagement ring.”

“At least she told you the truth eventually.” The two of you cuddle into each other’s arms in the middle of the rug, furniture be damned. This moment is worth more than any sofa. “I don’t need a ring, amor. I only need you and Al.”

“I will proudly wear your ring, but I wish to get you one as well.” He admits. “It is not pride that makes me say that.” He assures you. “It is that I wish for you to carry a piece of my love for you as you go about your day.”

“Then I will wear whatever you choose with equal joy and love.” Nuzzling into his side, you press a kiss over his heart, then to his cheek, and then to his lips. “Alistair will be excited that I was finally able to ask.”

“He knew?” His brows shoot up and he huffs playfully. “I cannot believe he kept it from me.” He pouts, heart melting a little more from the fact that you conspired with his son.

"I had to ask him too," you grin, loving the soft expression of gratitude on Max's face. "Make sure he was okay with me loving him and his daddy forever."

“I’m sure that he has no problem with that.” He hums. “That boy adores you.”

"He had one condition." And it had been so sweet that you hadn't been able to refuse. "He wants to be your best man. He saw it in a movie and he's decided it's the most important thing for him to do for you."

“Yes.” Max lights up and nods immediately. “Absolutely. I would have nothing else than for him to be my best man. I will have to ask him formally. Get him some cufflinks.”

"We can do whatever you want." You hum softly and run your fingers over the signet sitting on his finger before looking back up at him. "All I care about is that I get to marry you."

“That is all that matters.” Max sighs happily. “You are Alistair, you’re my second chance and plan on making the most of it, amor.” He will, Max has found that there are things much more important than business success and fortune. With you and Alistair, he’s the wealthiest man on earth.

______

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

My Masterlist!

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

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bigbangsanvers · 3 months ago

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Enchanted (To Meet You)

written by Halcyon_Quill

Rating: Teen and up audiences

Warnings: None

Summary:

The Velvet Witch is being hunted down for corrupting the innocent flesh of women during masked events around the colonies. Meanwhile, Alexandra Danvers, future fiancée of banker Maxwell Lord, meets a strange traveller that might change everything she thought she knew about herself. Maggie Sawyer was back in Salem after months of running from her hunter. Right on time for the next Masquerade. - Salem Town, colony of Massachusetts, 1690s -

(a lesbian romance set during the witch trials-ish period with semi-accurate historical settings/facts/characters)

Additional tags: Salem 1690s AU, Lesbian love in history, Slow Burn, Fluff, very slow burn, Slow Romance, no actual witches, just lesbians acused of witchcraft, based on real history kinda, smut in chapter rated "M" in titlel, ucy and maggie are JUST FRIENDS don't expect a romance between them lol sorry, Sanvers Endgame

With art by @softdetsawyer

Check out the work on ao3 for more art!

These works were part of Sanvers Big Bang 2020 and were revealed on October 31.

#sanvers #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #supergirl #sbb2020 #sbb reveals

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suzdin · 11 months ago

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Hello there! 🤓

My name is Susan, but most call me Suz. Welcome to my little slice of the internet! It isn’t much, but there’s coffee (or tea, if you prefer), some smut and perhaps a murder or two. 🤷‍♀️ Silly old Dave…

I’m just a boring Xennial (1984, the year of Maxwell Lord), married, and a native Texan. I enjoy: animals, reading, writing, art, making edits for tiktok, dark things, travel, and of course our papi, Pedro Pascal.

I struggle with ADHD and mental health as well as other physical issues so I don’t write or post on a consistent schedule and I’m sorry. 🫤 I wish I did! Your comments and feedback give me life and I love each and every one of you so much.

Din Djarin was my original Pedro crush (thus the name). I kinda knew Pedro might be a problem for me so when I originally saw him in The Mandalorian several years ago, I chose not to deep dive because I tend to, well, hyperfixate easily and swiftly, and I know how annoying I can be when I do that. (Seriously, I have found my people here!) It wasn’t until my husband asked me if I wanted to watch The Last of Us, not knowing I had a secret crush on Pedro, that my obsession took off and I’m sure he regrets it ever since. 🤪

My favorite characters are: Dave York, Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Ezra, Max Phillips, Din Djarin. But of course that changes almost weekly it seems like.

My writing style tends to be dark, smutty, unhinged and maybe a sprinkle of fluff or two, as a treat. (But don’t expect much fluff.)

You can find my primary masterlist in my bio above…

Or you can check out Two for One, my very self indulgent Dave York x Max Phillips mashup that I’m happy you are all enjoying as well, or The Man, featuring an original character based loosely on Pedro, that you can find on Wattpad, that I need to update (I know some of you are mad about that I’m sorry 😭)

I’ll get around to making a nicer one of these eventually… in the meantime my inbox is always open for chatting and whatnot, don’t be shy to say hello. I don’t bite… much.

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gosmigenergy · 11 months ago

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FEELS LIKE CHRISTMAS / Maxwell Lord (Lorenzano) x F! Reader

Summary: Celebrating Christmas for the first time with Maxwell.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mostly holiday fluff but turns explicit, holiday stress, mentions of family, mentions of Christmases alone, mentions of food, drinking, sixty-nine dude, oral - male receiving, oral - female receiving, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please), language, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 5.9k

Author’s Notes: I did plan on making some continuous fics about Bunny and the Boys but I work in retail, have just come back from Iceland (panini delayed holiday) and I’m going to Norway to visit my sister over Christmas. When I was considering what to do because I really wanted to post something, I found this unfinished Maxwell Lorenzano seasonal story hidden away on my computer.

Anyway, enjoy!

You normally loved the season, you basked in multicoloured lights, engulfed by the smell of roasting chestnuts, ears ringing with the constant playing of hymns and cheesy pop songs.

However this was the first year you and Maxwell chose to celebrate Christmas, with him came Alistair and with him came the pressure of presents. For Maxwell, they had to be perfect even though he wasn’t loaded with fake Black Gold money, he had to give his son what he never had, the one gift every kid was asking for.

The Ghostbusters Firehouse was proving to be one of the most desired toys of the season, it had been since Halloween.

Alistair had dressed as one for the school disco, you’d found a jumpsuit and dyed it brown, found an embroiderer who made the name tag and spent hours building a Proton Pack from cardboard boxes. All that effort was worth it, to see that kid running up the steps with several other Ghostbusters in similar attire, be it triple the price.

“I love you,” Maxwell said, beaming with a lopsided grin and tears framing his eyes.

In that moment, you felt a warmth that you’d never quite felt before, one that was reflective of a proud parent.

You didn’t feel that right now.

After hours of following the herd, going into what felt like every toy shop in DC and coming out empty handed each time, you broke.

“Alistair is back in two and a half hours, I just want to go home,” you cried. You were literally crying on a bench, cheeks hot with the freezing air.

Maxwell’s smile had disappeared long ago, replaced with a straight line.

“Fine.”

He huffed into the space next to you.

The bus ride home was quiet, Maxwell keeping his emotions to himself, his grip tight on the shopping bags. You’re grateful as the tension seemed to drop a little when you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Please talk to me.”

The pair of you had finally stripped yourselves of your winter accessories and coats, abandoning the gifts in your bedroom to stop prying eyes, yet neither of you had said a word.

“What’s there to talk about? I’m a shit father who couldn’t get a present for his son.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Maxwell Lorenzano,” you walk to him and place your hands on his cheeks so he couldn’t look away. “You are not a shit father.”

His deep brown eyes glossed, his chin crinkling as he tried to stop himself from having an absolute meltdown.

“I can’t even get my kid the one toy he wants, what am I going to do?

“What are we going to do? I’m not letting you blame yourself for this. This is companies exploiting Christmas, making people feel shit for things out of their control.”

“Don’t you love Christmas?”

“Yeah but not this. Not making a father feel guilty for not getting his son a toy, that’s not what this is about. I love everything around that, the delight of snow and the rush of having to get outside. The warmth of a hot chocolate settling in your stomach, nights on the couch wrapped in copious amounts of blankets with It’s a Wonderful Life on the tv…”

Your heart twinges.

“The smile on the face of someone you love getting something unexpected, the voice on the other end of the phone as you wish them happy holidays.”

That’s what it always was for you. Your family far away, you unable to afford to get home.

“Mi amour.”

Maxwell brought a thumb to your cheek and caught the tear that had escaped.

You sigh, “It’s just been a long day.”

“I know.”

He pulled you close, resting his slopping nose on top of your head, breathing you in. You hold each other for a fragile moment.

“I need to go and have a think, ok?”

He kissed your forehead.

You nod before looking around your shrinking space, somehow the apartment the three of you shared was getting smaller.

“I’ll get this place in order before Alistair arrives and start on dinner.”

“Thank you, baby.”

He walked away almost defeated.

“Hey, you better not go in there and make some elaborate plan to make everyone’s deepest desires come true.”

“That was one time.”

You giggle.

A while later, the knock at the door interrupts your flow but you couldn’t stay mad for long when that wide smile greets you.

“Max, Alistair’s here!”

You’re almost knocked back as he throws himself at your legs and in for a hug, you squeeze his head to save yourself from falling.

“How’ve you been?”

“Good.”

“How was your mom?”

You didn’t really care, you were just making pleasantries to try and pretend you didn’t find the woman absolutely insufferable. When he lets go and gives you a shrug, you take the hint.

Ok, you mouthed.

“Alistair,” Maxwell appeared, his smile matching his son’s as he fell to his knees to embrace him enthusiastically. “I’m so happy you’re home.”

“Me too, mom said she wants to talk to you, she’s downstairs.”

“Alright, why don’t you help with dinner?”

“Ok!”

Alistair ran to the kitchen.

You guessed what this might be, the exchange of presents from ‘Santa’ as discussed between them. Alistair was going to be away from his mother for the holidays, not that either of them seemed to mind. You and Maxwell would have him until New Year so you had plenty planned.

“I’m sure you can keep him distracted for a while.”

“Of course,” you winked.

---

“Why is your tree so small?”

Alistair cocked his head to the artificial tree placed on a side table next to the television.

“Oh, I got that tree when I first moved to DC. I couldn’t afford much but I was desperate for some sort of Christmas decoration and there it was, last on the shelf at Goodwill.”

“Were you on your own that Christmas?”

“Yeah, my family were all back home.”

“Have you ever been back?”

“No, I’ve never had the chance. Though I’ve had loads of good Christmases here with friends and neighbours, Mrs Zonana gave me the biggest chocolate log you’ve ever seen.”

“Really?! Do you think she’ll make one for the party?”

“I’m sure she will.”

“Have you ever wanted a big tree? Mom had one that almost reached the ceiling.”

You shrug, “I’ve never thought about it, it’s just been me but, yeah, I guess something a little bigger would be nice.”

“And colourful lights for the window?”

The more he inquired, the more excitable he became and your smile grows.

“Colourful lights would be good too.”

“How’s everything going in here?”

Maxwell wrapped his hands around your waist, the chill prominent from his trip outside. He rested his chin on your shoulder and looked down at the carnage of flour, butter and cheese, Alistair’s hands coated in the ingredients.

“It’s gonna be later than expected.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“It’ll be worth the wait.”

---

“Can I just sleep here tonight?”

Alistair’s eyes were heavy, belly full from dinner and his body warm from a combination of flannel pyjamas and a fleece blanket.

“No, we all need to go to bed.”

Maxwell was the only one moving, he’d cleaned up and offered to make special hot chocolates, two of which would feature alcohol. He handed his son a mug brimming with whipped cream and marshmallows.

“But it’s comfy here,” he moaned.

“I can’t disagree with him.”

You were stretched on the couch, waiting for Maxwell to return to fill the space he left behind. He was your headrest, allowed you to snuggle within the crook of his arm and listen to his heart beat slowly. Once he was back, you were asleep for sure.

“Everyone is going to bed,” he reiterated.

He remembered the last time the pair of you fell asleep on the couch, his cricked neck played up for almost a week.

“Boooo.”

“Careful you two or Santa won’t bring you presents.”

Alistair laughed.

“Oh dad, Santa isn’t real.”

“What makes you say that?”

You try to deflect, Maxwell was hoping for another year of illusion at least.

“Jake told me.”

Curse you, Jake.

“Well, it’s not that he’s not real, it’s more that you’re old enough to allow Santa to bring joy to another kid. He’ll make sure this year’s extra special, I’m sure of it.”

His expression scrunched, “That sounds rubbish.”

“Oh no,” Maxwell shook his head, “it’s very true.”

Alistair’s eyes flitted between both of you and you knew the game, keep a straight face just long enough for him to believe you.

“That’s cool.”

He continued to watch the Christmas special on the tv. Maxwell handed you your hot chocolate and slipped into his spot. He let you settle back before leaning down and kissing the top of your head.

His words were soft, “Thank you, baby.”

You had gone to check on Alistair one last time before heading to bed.

“He’s out of it.”

Maxwell was already cosy under the duvet, glasses on as he read a battered copy of A Christmas Carol. Closing the door gently, you tiptoed across the room and slide into the other side, resting your fuzzy head on the pillow.

“How are you not dizzy reading after that drink?”

“Because I didn’t put an extra shot in mine.”

“Max!”

“What? You deserved it.”

You huff, you can’t stay mad at his stupid face, his wide toothy smile looking down on you.

“How did it go… with the present swap?”

He put his book down, “Fine.”

Maxwell was a man of little words when it came to his ex wife.

“You know you told Alistair that white lie about Santa Claus? Well, lucky for us, she managed to get that firehouse.”

“Of course,” you scoff.

The moment Maxwell lost his ‘wealth’, his then wife dropped him for someone who could pay the lifestyle she was after.

“Paid triple the amount for it.”

You let out a singular laugh.

“At least Alistair will be happy.”

“Do you think he’ll like what we got him?”

“Why do you ask?”

Maxwell’s brows furrowed, maybe he did make a mistake putting another measure of Irish cream in your hot chocolate.

“He knows we’re not necessarily as well off as his mom but I don’t want him thinking that we don’t love him as much because we can’t give him that.”

“Alistair knows we love him, maybe even more than his mother does.”

“We got him underwear,” you throw your arms up as you spoke.

“He needs new ones.”

“I know he does but we’re giving them as a present.”

“I was very happy when I got underwear one year.”

“You’re lucky to have a kid like him.”

“I’m lucky to have you too,” he said, cuddling closer. “Not every girlfriend would go from toy store to toy store trying to get a present for a kid that isn’t theirs.”

“You both mean the world to me.”

“And you’re everything to us.”

He cupped your cheek, feeling the heat seer through his palm before his lips met yours.

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

You can’t remember falling asleep, only Maxwell gently shaking you awake. In your groggy state, you could sense it was still dark out yet you rolled over to see him fully dressed.

“Alistair and I are heading out,” he whispered. “He forgot to get a present for his friend.”

“I’ll get dressed.”

“No, don’t get up. Have some time to yourself, ok baby? We might be a while.”

“Ok,” you immediately roll back over.

No offence to Maxwell but it was way too early and you were far too hungover to kick up a fuss, he told you to stay and you wouldn’t put up a fight about it.

The phone started to ring the moment you stepped out of the shower.

After a lie-in, you visited Mrs Zonana ahead of her Christmas party, hosted every year in the apartment complex’s courtyard. You offered to help in some way and after much persuasion, she had you and another neighbour putting up the gazebo and decorations. Then you got back and knocked up some cookies for the evening before getting ready.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.”

“How’s your day going, Max?”

He groaned, “It’s gone fine but we’re running late, we’re waiting for the next bus. Do you mind if we meet you at Mrs Zonana’s?”

“Not at all, can’t promise there’ll be any food left.”

“It’s Mrs Zonana, she’ll save us a plate.”

You hum sarcastically.

“Don’t deny it, she loves me.”

You roll your eyes, “Am I being replaced?”

“Of course not,” the phone crackled, “I’ve got to go, love you.”

He hung up before you got the chance to reply.

When you finally made it downstairs, the outside was already buzzing. You made your way through the throng of your neighbours, stating you’d catch up later before reaching Mrs Zonana.

“Oh, I’ll make the boys their plates and keep them warm in the oven.”

“You don’t have to, they’re the ones running late.”

She battered you with a tea towel, which you were unable to decipher whether it was meant to be playful or if she really did want it to hurt.

“Sorry we’re late!”

Everyone practically cheered at Maxwell and Alistair’s arrival. You swiftly apologise to Nico to ensure you got to them first.

“Finally! Where have you two been?”

You jokingly put your hand on your hip and pout, Alistair giggling at your phoney expression because you, of all people, were never mad.

“Sorry, baby.”

“It’s not me you have to apologise to,” you smile wickedly as you sense Mrs Zonana’s presence.

“Alistair, come get yours and your father’s food.”

He runs away immediately.

“Did everything go ok?”

Maxwell hummed.

“You look exhausted.”

“I know but it’s all with a good intention.”

You rubbed your thumb along his cheek, warm in a rush to make it back, the faintest sensation of whiskers from lack of shaving.

“How have I not been greeted by my man yet?”

“Hola, Mrs Zonana.”

Maxwell slipped seamlessly into Spanish around her and you always prayed that they were saying kind words when your name popped up. You drew your attention to Alistair for a while and listened to him talk about his day with his father.

Occasionally, yours and Maxwell’s eyes would catch across the courtyard and you’d exchange the softest of smiles throughout the rest of the evening.

“I’m tired.”

Alistair was valiant in staying up, most of the other kids had gone to bed. He flopped onto the edge of the garden box with you and Maxwell, who had escaped another lecture on ancient artefacts from Mr Fennec.

“We should probably get you boys to bed, huh? It’s been a long day.”

They both groan, playfully collapsing their heads to your shoulders.

“Come on,” you ruffle Alistair’s hair.

After saying your goodbyes, the three of you strolled up to the apartment.

“I have never seen a boy this excited to go to bed,” you laugh.

Alistair had run ahead the moment you reached the walkway. Maxwell brought you closer, locked an arm around your waist and breathed you in.

“Don’t think I can blame him.”

The holidays were always tiring even when you were on your lonesome, you were always invited somewhere with someone and keeping up appearances was the norm. You spent years coming back, crashing onto the mattress before getting up to do the whole thing all over again. It was nice that the building party was the only real big deal this year.

Maxwell chose to do his office party by himself because why would you want to be surrounded by drunk, obnoxious salesmen for the evening? You were better off with Alistair baking cookies, watching a film and secretly helping him wrap presents for his father. Then Alistair’s mom took him to the school party and to meet Santa, attending the Christmas light switch on was the one event you happily obliged.

“Why are you taking so long?”

“Because we’re old,” Maxwell shouted as he and you approached.

“Did you hang mistletoe on the door?”

Your inquiry was met with a shrug.

“You do realise that I don’t need a Christmas tradition for an excuse to kiss you?”

“Ew,” Alistair fake barfed.

Maxwell rummaged to find the key in his pocket, refusing to let go of you. Alistair snatched it out of his hand as soon as it reemerged. Maxwell’s hand came to your jaw and gently, he eased you to face him. He stared at you with his brown puppy dog eyes, bringing his other hand to meet your cheek.

“Shouldn’t we be under the mistletoe?”

His face was illuminated by an orange glow as Alistair made his way inside.

“Too much effort,” he smiled before clashing your lips together.

It could be because he’s tired or the alcohol or the fact he was trying to make the kiss more of a pantomime for his son to endure but Maxwell was messy. He practically pinned your face to his with both hands, slipping his tongue passed your lips sloppily, forcing your body to turn backwards to the door.

You gasped for air when he finished.

“I like the enthusiasm.”

You take a couple of steps back to see his expression soften, he knew what he’d done, chose not to say anything.

Then you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

Wait, that wasn’t there when I left.

And suddenly the room seemed to fill with pinpricks of every colour.

“Merry Christmas!”

Alistair leapt from behind you and slowly, inch by inch, you took everything in. You didn’t utter a word, couldn’t even scream as your chest began to heave.

The tiny desk tree had been replaced with one triple the size, overloaded with baubles. Every wall was lined with string lights, the kitchen sill decorated with ornaments and tinsel and the focal point, three stockings hanging from the breakfast bar, embroidered with golden letters.

“Do you like it?”

You fall to your knees and squeeze Alistair hard. You put every ounce you had in you to hug that boy and kissed his head multiple times.

“I love it, Alistair, I love it so much,” your voice cracked.

“You’re crying.”

“They’re happy tears, I promise,” the words were catching in your throat.

“Let me take your coat, baby, Alistair’s got more to show you.”

“There’s more?”

Alistair was beaming up at you, nodding passionately.

Maxwell helped you pull yourself out of your coat, your body shaking as it failed to follow basic instruction. He trailed a hand down your spine as you attempted to get it together, wiping the tears that were already falling.

Taking your hand, Alistair showed you what else they’d done. The old tree had now taken pride of place at the end of the corridor between your rooms. There was more lights along the ceiling and the pictures on the walls had changed to winter scenes of snowfall, ice skating and carollers.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this just for me,” you smile, more tears forming.

“Well, I said about it to dad and he said he overheard us talking yesterday and felt like we should do something,” Alistair said. “Also I didn’t have any money and I couldn’t get up high so I needed some help.”

You couldn’t help hugging him again.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better surprise.”

“Really?”

“Oh, I’m going to remember this one forever.”

Alistair excitedly returned to Maxwell to pass on the good news. Of course you were going to love it, Maxwell knew you would. Luck aligned for him, there was still some money left in the budget you two had built, Mrs Zonana gave a hefty contribution and Suzanne from the other block let him and Alistair hide whilst they also played look out.

Plenty of people loved you more than you realised.

He automatically hugged you when you came back, “You good?”

“There aren’t any more surprises are there, I don’t think I can cope.”

“Not from me.”

You laugh into his chest, “Thank god.”

He ran a hand through your hair, squeezing you a little tighter before reluctantly letting you go.

“Can I have another one of those hot chocolates?”

“Sure.”

“And me,” Alistair chimed in, “please.”

The three of you rested on the couch, Alistair retelling the day and how each decoration came to be. It felt like your heart could burst, he was so overjoyed. Maxwell’s arm was draped firmly over your shoulder, chest rising and falling slowly as sleep tried to take him.

You knew you spent too long in the bathroom, you worried Maxwell may have fallen asleep before he even got chance to see your gift. It was a risk you were taking but you hoped it would pay off.

“Maxwell. Are you asleep?”

“Just resting my eyes,” his head lulled against the headboard.

“Oh because I was hoping I could give you one of your presents early.”

He opened one eye, “Really?”

You hum, fingertips playing with the tie on your fluffy dressing gown.

“Well, you’ve been such a good boy these past couple of days,” you pull open the knot, “and I think you deserve it.”

You shrug your shoulders and let the fabric fall to the floor with a light thud. Maxwell’s head snapped up, both eyes wide with the delight of seeing you dressed in nothing more than a see-through babydoll in bright red, nothing left to the imagination. Your bush freshly trimmed and nipples pert.

His smile brought the dimples to his cheeks. He leaned forward, gesturing with both hands.

“Come here.”

You saunter to the edge of the bed and he moves to you fit perfectly between his legs. His hands run up the backs of your thighs, fingers burying into your ass as he pressed his forehead to your stomach, the refreshing scent of your favourite perfume catching in his nostrils. He moved his hands to your hips before looking up at you drunkenly.

“How long have you been hiding this from me?”

You hum, biting your lip sheepishly.

Whilst in the mall, deflated from toy shopping, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, leaving Maxwell amongst the other male shoppers in the seating area. As you walked, your eyes caught something in the window of a shop.

You only treated yourself to lingerie when it was a special occasion and after the day you two were having, it called for it.

Dress up wasn’t something you and Maxwell chose to do so, even though the enthusiastic sales assistant tried, you gravitated towards the little red number you wore tonight.

“I shouldn’t have got you tipsy last night, should I?”

You cup his face in your palms.

“It didn’t help.”

Brushing aside his stray hairs, you lean down and kiss him deeply, his back straightening to attention. You both part, catching your breaths.

“So, are you one of Santa’s naughty little elves or…”

Maybe you should have got the costume. You look at him, your eyelids low as the corner of your lips curled.

“I’d much rather be Mrs Claus.”

The smile grew back on his face.

“Now it’s time for you to go back to bed.”

Maxwell happily obliged. He made sure to look at the view in detail one more time before slipping his hands off you. Pushing back on the mattress, he rested on the pillow, hands tucked behind his head.

“Are you coming to tuck me in?”

You climb on the bed and crawl over his body, your index finger trailing along his underwear where his hardening cock was becoming visible.

“Not until…”

Your faces meet and he waits in anticipation for your next line, it doesn’t come easily. You think of all the seasonal puns but they’re all ridiculous - candy cane, north or south pole, Christmas has cum early?

He breaks first, a singular laugh ruining any chance of you being a seductive Mrs Claus.

“Hard to keep up the charade?”

“Yeah,” your expression scrunches. “I don’t think ‘not getting rid of your south pole’ does what I want it to do.”

He snorts at the terminology.

“Want me to take the rein?”

You thought he was going to make some sort of sleigh ride joke but nothing came after. He calmly brushed the hair from your face, breathing and heartbeat steady, his expression soft. Maxwell didn’t usually take control but this time, he seemed so sure.

“Ok.”

Then something changed, his pupils blew a dark black.

“Turn around.”

You listened, swapping your legs over each side. His hands travel up your legs before they claw your ass apart and you instinctively arch your back to offer him a better view. His cock twitched beneath the cotton fabric.

“Wet as always.”

“Always for you.”

He hummed, glad you were facing the other way round because he could feel the temperature rise in his cheeks.

You kiss the skin above the waistband of his underwear then lick in one motion, sending a shiver along Maxwell’s spine. He returns the favour, kissing the creases that joined your legs to your butt before spreading his tongue over your folds.

You shudder, leaning back further to try and catch the tip of his nose.

He knew exactly what you were doing, “Behave.”

You grumble, pouting your lips as you glance over your shoulder. You couldn’t see much past the sight of your ass but you caught each other’s eye.

Your fingers play with the elastic before you gradually peel his underwear off, inspecting his throbbing bright tip, precum glistening. To behave would be to not take the top in your mouth and spread your tongue over but you were going to get him back for his little remark, that and you were hungry for him. Dampening your lips, you took Maxwell in your mouth, rewarded with his lengthily moan.

“Oh fuck,” he says as you take him further, “you are not behaving.”

He felt your soft laugh against him, the vibrations pleasing enough to have him creeping closer to the edge.

There was only one way to play this game.

Swallowing hard, he spreads you wider before teasing you along your outer lips, soothing with his tongue after a gentle nip. You breath with a sigh and just as he gets you into a false sense of security, he buries himself into your weeping cunt.

You pull up, Maxwell’s cock falling with a slap to his navel as you gasp and whimper.

“Put me back in your mouth, baby, I don’t want you waking up Alistair.”

You massage his balls lightly and the air hisses through his teeth, he was going to blow if you weren’t careful.

“And what about you?”

Maxwell was the most vocal lover you’d encountered. He didn’t respond, returning to your cunt with more finesse, his tongue working against your blooming clit.

You let out a choked whine before wrapping your lips around his tip and sweeping around with your tongue. You felt his groan run through every nerve ending, your walls clamping round him. Slowly you took his length into your throat and back up again, picking up the pace according to his movements.

You couldn’t tell how long the pair of you were locked like this, in this pure unadulterated bliss.

He only came up for air to sing your praises and for his final admittance, “I’m so close, baby.”

You already knew that.

His hips had bucked a few times to get his cock further into that little throat of yours, the sound of you gagging sweeter than any music. His body was tensing, his grip on your hips making them numb, he was forcing himself not to cum out of the want of making you cum first.

“This is your treat, Maxwell,” you say after releasing his cock with a pop. “How do you want me?”

“I want to watch you bounce on my dick until we both cum.”

You smile coyly, turning yourself to face him, “Now that’s some Christmas magic I can do.”

Straddling his hips, you kiss him squarely on the lips and force him to lay with his back firmly on the mattress. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you taste the tang of your arousal before pulling back, teeth nipping his bottom lip.

You lift yourself up, taking his cock in your hand as you line it up with your entrance. Eyes focusing on him, you slowly sink down, Maxwell releasing a choked gasp when just his tip slides between your folds.

His eyes flick up and down your frame as his palms trail your thighs, encouraging you to take his length.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you lower yourself, a soft hum as he fills you. His cock twitches, his head falling back, eyelashes fluttering shut as you held steady.

“Fuck,” he sighs.

You sit for a minute, inner walls pulsing as your aching pussy readjusts to the stretch of his girth. All this time together and you still hadn’t gotten used to how heavy his cock was. He feels fingertips grazing the skin of his chest and opens his eyes. You’re gazing down at him, eyelids low but he could still catch the glint in your eye.

“I thought you wanted to watch.”

Oh, he did but he fucking adored how you felt around him, he could stay like this all night if you allowed him. But you started to raise your hips, your other hand lifting the fabric to your waist so he could see the drag of your folds.

He groaned, not too loud yet not too soft, just enough for it to hit your ears.

“Like that?”

You tease as you drop back down, knocking the air out of his lungs. He can’t answer, can barely move his head because his mind is solely on your pussy around his cock. You gradually begin to pick up the pace when your legs stop protesting, the slap of your skin against his getting stronger, his fingers digging further into the flesh of you.

A squeaking moan escapes you every time you bounce from him, lips sealed together as you try to keep the volume down. You can still hear Maxwell, his hushed praises blending into his second language, his throat bulging as he tries to contain his grunts and groans.

Your walls were tightening, your hips stuttering when the tip of his cock hit somewhere new as you rolled your pelvis forward. His lips crashed into yours, swallowing the honeyed groan that came deep from your chest. He held you in place, your legs shaking with anticipation.

You could feel your arousal spilling between your thighs, preparing you for the final chase, the spark igniting low in your belly.

Maxwell coiled his arms around your waist, removing his lips from yours as he nudged his nose against your cheek. You catch your breath, fingers drawing circles over his shoulder blades before you finally looked in his big brown eyes. Always soft and sincere even though you were about to ruin him, he would happily take it.

You kiss his lips, palms moving to settle on either side of his neck. Lifting your ass a little, you let him shuffle his legs closer to boost you up before you rolled your hips.

A moan escapes you as your clit grazes the hairs above his cock. He sighs, lips parting as he focuses on your movements, your walls twitching around his aching cock. His broad palms fall from your waist and over the curve of your ass, fingers sinking into the muscle as he guides you up his length.

“That’s it,” he says breathily.

And when you get going again, you feel the tingle as it dances along your skin, your belly warming. Maxwell’s hands following as you bounce, legs locking beneath your weight.

Both of your hot and heavy breaths trickle down your flushed chest, his soft grunts seeping into your ears. Your hands trail over his outline, the shiver shooting up his spine as your fingertips tease.

His head fell forward and you pulled him close to your body, nestling his face in the crook of your neck. Keeping on hand on his back, you draw the other to his hair, the colour no longer a fake blonde. Your fingers delve into his thick roots and tug gently, the noise he makes having you close your eyes, riding his cock as fast as your ceasing legs would allow.

His hands grip tighter, his tongue so loose he can barely get the words out to warn you as his balls recede and he coats your walls. He manages to hold you down as you hiss through your teeth, body trembling as your own orgasm surges through your body.

“Shit, Max,” you choke.

Your cunt pulsates, milking him for every last drop before your muscles relax. He groans your name passionately, his body going limp, back hitting the mattress with a loud exhale.

You keep your eyes closed, your hand reaching for his chest as it rose, filling the lungs with much needed oxygen. Your legs shudder with an aftershock, his hand coming to your wrist. You blink, the room coming into focus and you catch his lopsided grin as he gazed up at you in a blissed out state.

“Best present a guy could ask for,” he chuckles.

You giggle, brushing the hair from your face with your free hand. Lifting your hips, you slide off his cock, thick white cum dribbling from your folds before you crawled up the bed to settle next to him.

He snakes an arm under your neck, across your shoulders to draw you closer to his chest. You snuggle to his frame, draping a leg in between his, hand fixed to his chest as his heartbeat slowed.

Glancing up, his eyes are already closed. You knew he was exhausted, all the rushing around, trying to give everyone the best Christmas, making up for all the ones he’d missed. All you wanted to do was tell him he didn’t have to but he wouldn’t listen.

Maxwell wouldn’t have it any other way.

When he came to in the morning, your side of the bed was empty. He could hear life outside of the door, the faint strip of sunlight breaking through the curtains. Stretching, he tried to find his t-shirt before guessing you borrowed it when Alistair came to wake someone.

In the now cramped living room, he saw you and Alistair on the couch, huddled under a blanket with mugs in your hands. The pair of you had soft smiles and were whispering to one another, you attempting to understand what was happening on the kids show you were watching. A few more presents had made an appearance under the tree, sugar cookies filling a plate on the coffee table.

“Morning,” his voice sounded groggy, vocal cords not quite ready to talk.

“Morning dad!”

“Morning, coffee’s fresh if you want some.”

Your smile grows at his arrival before he comes down and kisses you. He continues to watch you both while he wanders round the kitchen, semi listening to what was happening on the tv. Returning with a mug of coffee, Maxwell leans over and grabs a handful of cookies, met with a little groan from Alistair who had to tilt sideways to see the screen.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispers before sitting down.

You wriggle to make room as he slumps into his usual spot. After he’s got comfy, you nestle back against him and he drapes an arm over your shoulder. His lips come to the crown of your head.

“You ok?”

“Perfect,” he strokes your cheek as you drop your head back. “Feels like Christmas.”

#ww84 #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lorenzano #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord ww84 #pedro pascal fanfiction #smut #one shot #it's christmas

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muldermuse · 1 year ago

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helloooooo

this has been updated <33

if u have Fox Mulder thoughts or thottts pls lemme know <333

Muldermuse Masterlist

if u have any ideas for Fox Mulder pls pls send them through!!!

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Fox has a party with your cat

Haunted House (Dad!Fox Mulder X Reader)

You come home from work to a haunted house

Halloween Card (Dad!Fox Mulder X Reader)

Fox receives a special card from his family

Ghosts (Modern! Fox Mulder X Reader)

A drabble about doing a ghost walk with Fox

Fox is creative (Modern! Fox Mulder X Reader)

Fox loves Halloween recipes

Ghost Hunting (Fox Mulder X Reader)

A hc about ghost hunting with Fox

Pedro Pascal Characters X Reader: Headcanons

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

Being Maxwell’s personal assistant

Javi Gutierrez nsfw thoughts

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pedroshotwifey · 8 months ago

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Wifey's Christmas Countdown Max Fics

Mommy Sub!Maxwell Lord x softdom!fem!reader - You come home to find max in a...precarious situation. You strike him a deal to help him out. (2.1k)

#max lord smut #pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #pedro pascal smut #smut #pedro pascal characters #fluff #max lord #max lord x reader #maxwell lord #sub pedro pascal

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pintsizemama · 11 months ago

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Blizzard

Day 29

Summary: You get stuck at Maxwell’s after Christmas.

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

Fandom: Marvel & DC

Rating: Mature

Warnings: language, pining

Word Count: 697

Little Stark Masterlist

Day 28 Day 30 Christmas Masterlist Main Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

Maxwell watched you napping on his sofa. You were so goddamn gorgeous. He had kept his word on Christmas Eve and had been the perfect gentleman. It had been a fantastic night. He was utterly charmed by you. His own charm must have worked on you as well, because you had agreed to stay the night. He couldn’t remember the last time he spent Christmas with someone. It was really nice having you here to share the holiday.

Unfortunately—well, actually very fortunately for him—a blizzard blew in late Christmas afternoon. You had no choice but to stay another night, then another, and another. The storm was still going strong, and Maxwell wished it would never end. The last few days had been bliss. You’d both agreed on a temporary truce. The storm, combined with the isolation of the penthouse, made you both feel as if you were the only two people on earth. Walls had come down, and you were getting to know each other. Maxwell was pretty sure he still pissed you off, but you were warming up to him. And he was more enamored with you than he had ever been.

It drove him insane that his power did not work on you, and he really wanted to know why. He had never had to work so hard to make a woman interested in him. While he never used his gifts to attract women—he found it morally repugnant to coerce a woman into his bed—women usually threw themselves at him. Between his good looks, money, charm, and intelligence, he never had trouble finding a bedmate. You were completely unfazed by all of it. Considering the company you usually kept and the fact that you yourself were also beautiful, rich, charming, and intelligent he wasn’t surprised you were unimpressed by him. He had to actually try with you. Something he was entirely unfamiliar with. He noticed you stirring slightly on the couch, and he walked forward to sit. You blinked before your gaze landed on him. You gave him a beautiful, sleepy smile, and he felt his heart flip.

“How long was I asleep?” You asked in a raspy voice.

“A few hours,” he replied. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“Wow,” you said softly. “I don’t usually sleep well.”

“My couch is very comfortable,” Maxwell said with a shrug. He saw something on your face he didn’t quite understand…as if the deep peaceful sleep you just experienced was rare.

“It’s still coming down out there, huh?” You murmured as you looked out the window.

“Yes,” Max answered. “It should clear up in a day or so.”

“Oh, that’s good,” you said. The slight furrow in your brow puzzled him. You looked almost disappointed. He hoped that was the case. He enjoyed having you in his space.

“We have a lot of work to catch up on,” you said.

“Not really,” he countered. “Most of my staff—and yours—has this week off.”

“Well, I usually work through the end of the year,” you replied.

“You work too much, Maggie,” he said. It was a bit hypocritical coming from him since he was also a workaholic, but he hated to see you run yourself down.

“I like working,” you said, jutting your chin out defiantly.

“I know. But you are allowed to have some fun too.”

“I have fun,” you argued petulantly.

“When?” You racked your brain. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had fun.

“It’s been a while,” you answered honestly.

“Then just relax,” he insisted. “There is literally nowhere for you to go, so enjoy the downtime while you can.” You looked at him a long moment, and he wondered what you were thinking. Finally you nodded.

“Good,” he said with a smile. “Now, about that fun. I have a bowling alley—it’s small, just two lanes.” he cut in when he saw the look you shot him. “So, what do you say, Miss Stark? Think you can beat me?” He saw the glimmer in your eye and knew he had you.

“I’m gonna kick your ass Mr. Lord.”

“I look forward to it,” he said with a grin.

Day 30

Join my taglist

If you enjoy my blog and would like to support it, you can always buy me a coffee. Not necessary, but always appreciated.

Taglist:

@alexxavicry @amneris21 @awhitewyvern @burrito-stuffs @dreedhudson @greeneyedblondie44 @harriedandharassed @hayley-the-comet @hnt-escape @holb32 @just-here-for-the-moment @kirsteng42 @lizette50 @loompyinaway @maxwell--lord @mishasminion360 @mswarriorbabe80 @my-sweetheart1776 @peach-child @pedrostories @sherala007 @xocalliexo @avidreader73 @chxosunbound @emilianamason @mendes-bae @nobody @wakaladjarin @wildmoonflower @christinamadsen

#christmas writing challenge #pedro pascal #fluff #maxwell lord #marvel #dceu #marvel dc crossover #little stark #tony stark sister #maxwell lord x female reader #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord fic #maxwell lord fanfiction #maxwell lord fanfic #wonder woman 1984

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nerdieforpedro · 9 months ago

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Weekend Update 02/18/2024

Nerdie! What is new this week?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Compulsion by @iamskyereads (Ezra x OFC Beatrice)

Misunderstanding by @romanarose (Marc Spector x fem reader)

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

Bloom by @violentdelightsandviolentends (Bucky x fem reader)

Helping Hand by @izelascendant (Din Djarin x OFC)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have a great week everyone! 🥰

Love Nerdie! 💜

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

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tessa-liam · 2 years ago

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Marabelle

- Chapter 2 – Once Upon a Time

The Royal Romance, an AU series

Series Premise: An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobles, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret?

Catch Up: Marabelle Masterlist

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC (Sophia)

Other Pairing: Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC (Daniel)

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except Sophia Taylor, Bethany Beaumont, Melanie Smithson, Tyler Gregson.

Rating: M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, crude language. Not Beta'd; Please excuse all errors.

Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff

Words: 2390, Read 11 minutes

- 2 - Once Upon a Time

Chapter summary: Sophie is introduced to Marabelle, all thanks to her encounter with her personal ‘knight in shining armor’.

Music Inspiration: One Call Away – Charlie Puth

A/N1: My submission for @choicesflashfics, Week #22 prompt #3 - “I am at my wits’ end with you.”

A/N2: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the US; is Barthelemy Beaumont’s 2nd wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) was Bertrand’s mother.

A/N3: Melanie Smithson is a love interest for Drake. Tyler Ericsson is Prince Liam’s personal assistant.

A/N4: Using my new Tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed.

A/N5: Thank you @/Ainna for your beautiful commission😍

🐎🐎🐎

En route to the horse stables, near the Cordonian Royal Polo Club.

“This is where we played polo growing up, Sophia,” Bertrand commented as he pointed to the gate of the Cordonian Royal Polo Club.

Sophie looked out the window and saw a beautiful clubhouse with a spacious polo field and several horses grazing in the field.

“Wow! That looks impressive.”

“It really is. We used to play every weekend during the summer.” Maxwell said fondly.

“At the Sage Hill Stables near New York, I had completed a dressage program,” explained Sophie. “That is where I really fell in love with horses. I would go riding at that ranch, once my lessons were completed, at every chance I got.”

“Well, Soph, once your new horse is settled in at our stables, you can explore the countryside whenever you want.”

"Max, you will have to come with me to show where the best trails are to ride."

Bertrand smiled seeing the look of happiness on Sophie’s face.

When they arrived at the horse ranch, they were greeted by a young woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties.

“Duke Ramsford, welcome. My name is Melanie Smithson. Drake Walker has asked me to meet with you this morning.”

“Hello, thank you for meeting with us, my dear. This is my brother Lord Maxwell Beaumont, and this is my cousin, Lady Sophia Taylor.” Bertrand replied.

“Will Drake be meeting with us?” Maxwell asked Bertrand.

“If I may,” Melanie interrupts, “Drake will be joining us very shortly. He was called away by the Crown Prince to attend the Polo club. I can give Lady Sophia a tour while we wait for Drake to join us.”

"Thank you, Miss Smithson. That is much appreciated," Bertrand replied.

As Melanie toured Sophie around the stables, Bertrand showed Maxwell which horses he was planning to buy for the their stables.

The ranch was expansive with a small indoor riding arena, a large outdoor riding area, a round pen, and two barns.

There were several horses in each barn. Some of the horses were in stalls while others were roaming freely outside.

“Do you see a horse that you would like to ride, Sophia?” asked Melanie.

“All of them actually,” Sophie teased. “And please call me Sophie.”

“There is a particular horse that caught my eye that I found on your website that would be suitable for Sophie.” Bertrand said as he pulled out his phone to show Melanie the picture of the horse he had in mind.

“Oh, yes, well why don’t I get him ready so that you can go for a trial run.”

“That sounds great, thank you,” Sophie smiled.

Melanie walked over to the stall where the horse was standing. This horse was black with brown spots; his tail was long and swished as she approached him. Opening the stall door, Melanie led the horse out of the barn. He was then saddled and was ready to go.

“His name is ‘Bandit’. He is a 4 year old retired thoroughbred racehorse.”

Sophie walked over to the horse and stroked his nose with her hand. The large stallion whinnied at the touch and nudged her hand.

“I do not think this horse is the best fit for Sophie, Bertrand. Look at the size of him! We should wait for Drake to get here.”

“No, Maxwell, this is the perfect horse for her. You need to let her make her own decision.”

“All I am saying is, is that Drake can help Sophie with her decision and help her to decide if this horse is a good fit.” Maxwell huffed, frustrated.

“Sophia, please ride this horse to see if you feel comfortable. I am sure Mr. Walker will be here momentarily.” Bertrand directed.

“Maxwell, I am at my wits’ end with you.” Bertrand admonished, pinching his nose.

Melanie handed the reins to Sophie, and they took off walking toward the outdoor riding area.

As Sophie mounted the horse, she could feel the horse’s muscles under his coat. He felt muscular and powerful.

After circling the arena, they began to trot. Melanie directed Sophie to lead Bandit to the open riding area. As Sophie used the reins to guide the horse, she held onto the saddle horn and tried to relax as the horse started to pick up speed to run. As the horse reached full speed, she felt herself being pushed back against the seat of the saddle.

Then, the horse began running faster. The wind rushed past Sophie as the horse sped up even more.

Without warning, the sound of a starting pistol sounded to her left.

The horse reared up on his hind legs and bolted. Sophie clung to the saddle horn and reins as the horse galloped across the field.

“Oh my God,” Maxwell screamed as Bertrand’s face turned white. Melanie quickly mounted a horse to chase after Sophie and her ‘spooked’ horse.

“What the hell!” Drake appeared behind Maxwell.

“I told you that this horse wasn’t right for Sophie, Bertrand!”

“Fuck me!” Drake bolted and ran to saddle a horse quickly in order to do after Melanie and Sophie.

As Bandit ran, Sophie’s adrenaline was at an all-time high. Any thoughts of fear were pushed far back in her thinking.

In the distance, Sophie could see another rider on a grey horse in her periphery chasing after her. Melanie shouted something but Sophie couldn’t hear what she said because the wind blew through her hair.

Then, she heard the sound of hooves pounding the ground behind her. Before Sophie knew what was happening, two arms reached in front of her to grip the reins.

The rider pulled back forcibly on the reins and slowed the horse to a trot.

Sophie looked to her side and saw a blond haired man wearing a polo uniform.

{Sophie thought, ‘Whoa. He’s really cute!’}

When the man looked over to her, his blue eyes sparkled with concern, “are you alright, Miss...?

He asked in a deep, baritone accent.

“Oh, Sophie." She answered.

“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Sophie.”

“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine. Thank you for slowing this horse for me.”

“Of course, I would hate to have seen you get hurt. Please, call me Liam.”

“Well, Liam, thank you again, I was nervous to pull back. In case he decided to rear up again!”

“That was a smart decision; I see you have hands on experience with riding.”

“Yes, I do. I am looking for a horse for my own and my cousin Bertrand suggested I try this horse.”

“Ah, here, let me help you get down.” Liam dismounted from his horse and went over to help Sophie get down from hers.

“I hope you enjoyed your ride, well, before your horse was startled.” Liam intently looked at Sophie.

“The ride was okay; I love all horses. But, to be honest, I don’t feel ‘a connection’ with this one.”

“If I may say, you are new to Cordonia. You had mentioned that Bertrand is your cousin.”

Sophie explained, “yes, I moved here from New York recently to live with my Aunt Bethany. Bertrand and Maxwell are my cousins.”

“Ah, I see. Well then, I have to thank the Beaumont’s for looking after this venture for you”

As they both sat down on a log close by, the gallops of two incoming horses and their riders could be heard. Melanie and Drake came galloping up to them and slowed to a stop.

After dismounting, they walked over to Liam and Sophie. Melanie curtsied, and Drake went to shake Liam’s hand.

“Li, man, I owe you one. Sophie, are you okay? I am so sorry for not being at our appointment on time this morning!”

“I should have chosen a different horse for you to ride, but Duke Ramsford was so adamant that he wanted you to ride Bandit in particular. I wasn’t thinking; I am so sorry.”

Melanie was clearly flustered that she allowed Sophie to ride that particular horse....and that Prince Liam, of all people had to get involved to correct her mistake and save the day.

“Please, please stop,” Sophie interjected. “Thank you both for your concern, but honestly, it was a blast!” Smiling, Sophie continued, “I am in awe of his speed; he is so powerful.” Sophie bashfully chuckled but then remembered that she caused a Royal to come to her rescue.

“I do apologize to you, Liam, for taking you away from your polo match.” Sophie said softly, shaking her head, thinking that causing such a distraction to a member of royalty was unexcusable.

“Please, no apologies are needed.” Liam countered. “I was just in the right place at the right time.”

Drake continued, “that horse had spent far too much time locked in a stall. He was skittish when I rescued him from a stable in Cormery Isle.”

Liam raised a brow, “Vancoeur’s Duchy; I will talk to him at the next council meeting.”

Drake asked again, “Sophie, are you sure that you are, okay?

Why so quiet?”

“It’s been an action filled morning,” Liam looked over to Sophie and smiled.

“I guess we’ll have to introduce ourselves properly later. Right now, I think we need to get you back to the ranch to rest.”

“Okay,” answered Sophie, lowering her gaze. As she stood up to join Melanie, Liam also rose.

“I am charmed to make your acquaintance, Sophie,” Liam raised her hand to kiss.

“It’s great to meet you,” Sophie smiled bashfully.

“Ladies, I will take the horses back to the ranch. Melanie, please walk with Sophie and later arrange refreshments for Sophie and her cousins at the ranch.” Drake instructed.

As Sophie and Melanie turned to leave, Liam pulled Drake back.

“Drake, the winning derby horse that was retired last month, has she been rehomed yet?”

🐎🐎🐎

Sitting on the porch at the ranch, Sophie, Maxwell, and Bertrand were enjoying iced tea, waiting for Drake to return.

Bertrand was once again perusing the net for potential horses, while Maxwell told Sophie about his ‘Beaumont Welcome Bash’ idea to introduce her to their group of friends and members of the court.

“Max, how many people will you invite to this party?”

“I was thinking, maybe, 150 to 200 people. Oh, and of course Crown Prince Leo and Prince Liam.” Secretly, Max was also a planning a surprise to celebrate her 18th birthday that night as well.

Sophie thought back to earlier this morning when Melanie curtsied to the man that stopped her horse, Liam.

“Maxwell, the man that I met this morning, Liam....”

At that moment, Bertrand stood up, knocking his chair over. "Prince Liam was the man who saved you?!!”

“Maxwell, why did you not tell me that detail!”

Maxwell’s cell phone chimed with a message from Drake.

“Okay, Drake wants us to meet with him now at the Polo Club. I think he has found the perfect horse for Sophie.”

🐎🐎🐎

Arriving at the polo club, Drake was waiting at the entrance and ushered the cousins to the polo club stables behind the clubhouse.

Bertrand and Maxwell waited at the entrance to the stables as Drake and Sophie walked toward to the row of horse stalls.

As Sophie moved forward, she saw a familiar face standing beside a beautiful black horse.

Liam looked over and smiled.

“Thank you for coming.”

Sophie dropped down to curtsy, “thank you for meeting me here, Your Highness.”

“Please Sophie, no formalities are needed. I would like to suggest this horse for a ride.”

“Hello again, Liam,” Sophie looked up at his smiling face and she was mesmerized by his crystal blue eyes.

As Drake watched the exchange between Liam and Sophie, he noted that while his friend was gazing at Sophie, Sophie blushed. Clearing his throat, Drake spoke, “Sophie, this is Marabelle. She won the derby last season, and her owner retired her from racing wanting to rehome her.

Sophie stepped up to stroke Marabelle's nose as the horse bumped her hand in response. "She is gorgeous. Want to go for a ride with me, Marabelle?”

Liam smiled, “okay, let's give Sophie some time to bond with the horse.”

“Liam, would you like to ride with me?” Sophie asked.

“I would be honored, thank you for asking.”

“Your highness, I will prepare your horse.” Prince Liam's assistant announced.

“Thank you, Tyler.”

“Li, I have some horses to show Bertrand. I will see you in a bit.”

Drake turned to retrieve Bertrand and Maxwell for the viewing.

🐎🐎🐎

Finishing a run, Sophie and Liam rode their horses along a brook nestled in the trees.

After a time, Liam suggested resting the horses, and dismounted. Sophie was next, but when her feet touched the ground, one foot landed on a rock, and she stumbled forward. Liam was quick to assist and took her hand to steady her.

As they walked along the brook, Liam and Sophie chatted while their horses grazed, tethered together.

Sophie smiled at Liam, “Thank you for riding with me; I have taken up so much of your time today.”

“Hmmm...you’re right. Now I’ll have to find some other excuse to get you to stay,” Liam grinned.

“An excuse for me to stay? You don’t need an excuse. Turns out...I’m having fun.” Sophie giggled, not minding that Liam was still holding her hand.

Tags for all:

@ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @xpandass420x @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75

Marabelle Tag:

@charlotteg234

#the royal romance #trr #trr fanfic #prince liam #trr liam x oc #liam rys #trr au fanfic #cfwc fics of the week #choicesflashfics #marabelle

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alj4890 · 2 years ago

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On Impulse

(Maxwell Beaumont x OC) in a Choices The Royal Romance drabble

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge with the prompt: a playful kiss given between laughter

Choices May Monthly Challenge: childhood friends | falling in love | holding hands

Rating G for fluff

@hopelessromantic1352 @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @kingliam2019 @krsnlove @choicesficwriterscreations @fullbeaumonty @choiceschallenge-may2023 @jerzwriter

A/N Once upon a time (September of 2018 to be precise. Where has the time gone?!), I created my OC, Amanda Bridgerton, for Maxwell Beaumont in my first ever fanfic. About a year or so later I realized (along with many others in the fandom) through writing an angsty fic for the two that she was better suited for Thomas Hunt. So when I got this request from @twinkleallnight to reunite these two for a kiss challenge, it brought me back to all the times I wrote about Maxwell and Amanda secretly crushing on each other. So for this fic, Mr. Hunt is nowhere around to tempt her away from her love for Maxwell 😂😉

Masterlist

It was tiring being the proper, must always act a certain way noble. To have everyone watching and judging your every move, word you said, and even the way you dressed got old pretty fast.

It was only the first week of the social season and Maxwell was already exhausted.

"What's wrong?"

He looked up at Amanda.

"Nothing." He mumbled.

"It certainly doesn't look like nothing." She teased, poking him in his ticklish ribs.

He grinned at her. Leave it to his best friend to always know when he wasn't quite himself.

"Aren't you tired of this?" He whispered.

"Tired of what?"

"This." He gestured at the banquet hall filled to the brim with nobles and diplomats gathered together to celebrate King Constantine's wedding anniversary.

"I don't understand." Her brow furrowed. "Are you talking about the food or the company?"

"All of it!" He slumped back against a wall.

He couldn't help but think how much easier life used to be when he was younger. He was able to run around and do whatever he wanted with his friends without worry of the consequences. He typically had the woman next to him on many of his wild jaunts throughout the years. Come to think of it, most of his happiest memories included Amanda.

"I wish we were still children." He mumbled

She laughed, shaking her head at the memories that statement brought to mind. "I don't."

"You don't?"

"Maxwell," she huffed, "I was the most awkward girl in Cordonia. I was unfortunately born both clumsy and shy."

She winked at him. "Now I'm somewhat of a capable adult who might still be clumsy but can at least maintain a conversation without wanting to duck under a table."

He chuckled, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

"You weren't shy. You were simply quiet."

"I was always overthinking things." Amanda pointed out. "I still do, but I hide it better than I did when we were young."

"I could always tell when you were." Maxwell squeezed her close. "You chewed your bottom lip when overthinking."

She gently elbowed him. "Thanks for the reminder."

"You still do that, by the way." He whispered loudly.

She bit down on her bottom lip out of habit while fighting back a smile.

"Must you watch me all the time, Lord Beaumont?"

"I must, your grace." He dropped his arm, slipping his hand in hers. "How else can I make sure my best friend is enjoying herself?"

"You could simply ask me."

"True. But where's the fun in that?"

"Alright, Maxwell. Since you claim to know my tells so well. What am I feeling right now?"

She reluctantly pulled her hand away while turning to face him. Amanda cocked her head at an angle as she looked up at him. Her large hazel eyes held his ocean blue ones. A well practiced court smile was on her lips as she loosely clasped her hands together.

He lowered his head level with hers and narrowed his eyes in thought.

Amanda felt her cheeks flare with color over the intense way he studied her face.

Maxwell slowly smiled at the effect he had over her.

"I know what you need."

"You do?" She unconsciously bit down on her bottom lip.

His eyes darted down to her mouth, noticing the tell immediately.

"What is going through that mind of yours?" He asked, mostly to himself.

She averted her eyes, blushing all the more. If he only knew the thoughts she had about him, this would be a completely different conversation.

Amanda cleared her throat. "I believe you said you know what I need."

Maxwell grasped her hand again before sneaking quietly out of the room.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"Out." He declared, briefly nodding to the footman who held a side door open for them.

"I gathered that." Amanda said drily. "But where specifically."

"We are going to get a breath of fresh air and see what wild notion comes over us." Maxwell decided.

"We are?"

"We are."

She couldn't help but smile over how determined he sounded. If there was one thing she could always depend on, it was Maxwell Beaumont living life on impulse alone.

"Now what?" She asked once they were far enough away from the palace.

His brow furrowed in thought as he considered their surroundings. There was the hedge maze where they used to play hide and seek with Liam, Drake, and Olivia. There was also the royal orchard where they long ago held their races and games of tag. Then there was the pond where they used to jump into the frigid water with their clothes on.

Maxwell wondered if she'd still be game to go swimming.

He cut his eyes to Amanda the moment she let go of his hand. She lifted both her hands to try and repin the strands of hair that had become loose from her formal updo. He remembered all the years she allowed the heavy dark brown mass to hang freely down her back. As a little boy who was completely head over heels for her, he'd loved to playfully pull it.

Now as a man, he would love to thread his fingers through it while his lips touched her--

"What?" She asked when she noticed him staring at her.

Maxwell felt heat creep up his neck.

He coughed and refocused on the landscape. "Nothing."

He glanced at her again to see her still struggling with her hair. On impulse, he reached over and pulled a few strategically placed pins free. He threw them as far as he could from where they were standing.

"Maxwell!" She cried out when her hair tumbled down past her shoulders. "Now what am I going to do?! I can't return to dinner looking like this!"

"Sorry." His unrepentant grin flashed at her.

"Liar." She couldn't stop herself from grinning at him. "You do realize that now that you made me unpresentable, you'll be forced to spend the rest of the night with me."

He reached up and tucked a windblown lock behind her ear. "I can live with that."

She stilled at the touch of his fingers grazing down her cheek.

Their eyes met.

Neither was sure what to do about the feelings the other caused. Of course, neither one knew how much the other would love it if they made the first move.

Amanda broke eye contact first.

"Should we go for a walk?"

"Um. Sure."

Maxwell's hand found hers once more.

He realized he did it without thinking. He'd always taken her hand since they were children. She had truly been a clumsy little girl and as her best friend, he felt he had to help keep her upright. He'd ignored the snickers and teasing from the other children and continued to hold Amanda's hand whenever they walked or ran about.

It was a habit he'd never broken, one he hoped to never break.

Amanda didn't seem to mind when he did so, which was a relief. He doubted he'd be able to stop something that was now like breathing to him.

"Oh!" She stumbled, losing her shoe.

Maxwell caught her before she fell.

"I got you!" He grasped her arms.

She blew a lock of hair out of her face while holding tight to him.

"Thank you." She twisted around to see her high heel stuck in a soft patch of grass. "Word to the wise. Do not wear Louboutins while trekking through the wild."

He chuckled and knelt down to help her slip her shoe back on.

"There we go, Cinderella." He teased.

"Please." She scoffed. "We both know I'm not princess fairy tale material."

"What makes you say that?"

"For one thing, look at me. Do I honestly look like something that would make a man scour a kingdom to find again, much less fall in love at first sight?"

Maxwell was more than ready to answer that question in great detail.

And," she continued unaware that he was ready to tell her what he really thought about her, "there are two single princes in that palace. Neither have ever looked at me like Prince Charming did Cinderella."

Maxwell gazed up at her. "Do you want Leo and Liam to look at you like that?"

Amanda realized her joke was being taken seriously. She couldn't recall a time where Maxwell's voice and manner had ever been so somber.

"I adore them both and they are definitely charming and handsome." She hesitated before adding, "but, I don't think I want either of them to be interested in me like that."

Maxwell quietly got to his feet, dusted his knees off, and took her hand once more.

She didn't like how serious he seemed. The dark clouds building overhead had nothing on the expression on his face.

Amanda decided to get him back in that playful, spontaneous frame of mind.

She pulled her hand from his and tapped his shoulder.

"Tag! You're it!" She exclaimed before she took off running.

Maxwell stared in disbelief at her kicking her shoes off and hiking her skirt well above her knees. It took him a few more seconds to react, giving her enough time to disappear in the apple orchard.

He took off after her.

Once he got to the last place he saw her, he stopped and looked around.

He tried to listen for any footsteps or the rustlings of her ball gown.

His eyes narrowed as he scanned the area falling swiftly into darkness as more clouds rolled in. The wind picked up with the smell of rain permeating the air.

"Okay!" He called out. "I give up! Where are you?"

Silence answered him.

He dropped his head back.

"I'm serious! You're the winner, Amanda! Where did you go?"

Maxwell folded his arms.

"Come on, Amanda! Why won't you--"

He yelped when she dropped down from a nearby apple tree branch.

"Hah!" She took off running again before he could grab her.

"I've got you now!" He caught up to her fast, embracing her from behind.

Amanda squealed when he lifted her off the ground, laughing even harder when he began to tickle her.

"Max, no--stop--have mercy" She doubled over trying to escape him. "Please! Uncle!"

His hands stilled their torture.

Amanda managed to catch her breath, her smile was still peeping out at him as she tried to right her appearance.

Maxwell reached out to pluck a stray leaf from her hair.

"Thank you." She grinned at him. "Now m'lord, if you would be so kind as to assist me in finding where I left my shoes, I--"

He held them up in front of her.

She reached for them, only for Maxwell to lift them higher.

"What are you doing?" She asked with a giggle.

"Keeping you here." He replied. "With your hair down and no shoes on, there's no way you can return to the palace until everyone has gone to bed."

He had a smug expression on his face.

"Can you imagine the gossip if you did show up looking like a lady who rolled around in the dirt?"

"Dirt?!" She pulled a small compact from her pocket and checked her appearance. A bit of dirt touched on one cheek while another spot was directly over her left eyebrow.

"Good heavens!" She tried to wipe it off.

"Here, let me." Maxwell used his pocket square to gently clean her face.

Another round of laughter slipped out.

"What's so funny?" He asked.

"I was thinking what Uncle Nicky would say if he was to see us right now." She giggled again.

Maxwell chuckled at the thought of what fun loving Nicholas Bridgerton would think of them running around like children.

"He'd probably be proud of us for cutting loose."

"Probably."

Amanda began to squirm the longer Maxwell cleaned her face.

"I don't believe I am that dirty." She teased.

His eyes met hers. His dimples deepened with another grin.

"It's difficult to clean with no water at hand."

"We could always sneak back inside and--"

The clouds opened up.

The two looked up at the rain falling then at each other. Within seconds they were drenched.

And they couldn't stop laughing at the state they were both in. After all, they were supposed to be two respectable nobles of Cordonia. One look at them now and no one would believe that.

Maxwell still had her face cupped in his hands. On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her, smothering her laughter for a brief moment.

He could feel her still shake with laughter as her arms slipped around his neck. He smiled against her lips as the brief kiss came to an end.

Amanda looked up at him, her own smile bright with wonder.

Maxwell lifted her off the ground, swinging her in a circle as the rain continued to fall.

She giggled, holding tight to him.

Once he set her back on the ground, she tugged him back down for a deeper kiss.

He sank into her embrace, glorying in feeling her lips part under his urging. Their tongues tangled, causing them both to move closer to the other.

"We should do that more often." Maxwell said a touch breathlessly.

"I think so too." Amanda pressed another sweet kiss to his lips, letting them linger there as she spoke. "In fact, I think it should become our new way to play together."

"So like tag but instead of tapping each other with our hands, we use our mouths?" He teased in the midst of kissing down her neck.

She laughed while nodding her head.

"Then tag," he dipped her while kissing her once more, "you're it."

#thirty kisses in thirty days #choices the royal romance #trr maxwell #maxwell beaumont #maxwell x oc #maxwell x amanda #choices trr #choices fic writers creations #trr #the royal romance

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