summary: you currently live in new york and experience love with your partner, max baron, who's left the suburban life of st. louis to chase happiness and meaning beside you, he's currently teaching finance as a professor at columbia university and you're a waitress in upper manhattan, both tired, you enjoy eachother's company on a friday night after painfully long shifts.
★ max baron (white palace) X f!reader
notes: heey, i've never written fanfiction here so expect shit ok? help would be very appreciated!! (watched white palace recently so wth, we all love spader am i right?), lightly inspired in "this mess we're in" and "beautiful feeling" by pj harvey and thom yorke!! alsoo, english is not my first language, so any tips on grammar would be nice :p
warnings: smut, fluff, body worship, oral/fingering f!recieving, handjob baron!recieving, no use of y/n, angst(?), reader is kind of a crybaby, reader is not supposed to be nora btw (as much as i love her tho :3), praise, james spader being irresistible, needy and lil sub duhh
you come home, the fresh smell of pinecone and patchouli from that fancy inscense max brought home a week ago getting in your system, sometimes there's still a bit of bougie in him. the faint sunset from the window wrapping around your skin, and the man you adore more than life itself snoring on the couch. live concert on the tv, half drunken beer on the coffee table, you chuckle to yourself at the sight, he must've come earlier.
you set your tote bag in the kitchen and take a second to stare at him, shirtless, disheveled, still wearing his usual working slacks in a reality far away from earth.. you come closer, and stroke max's face before kissing him goodbye and walking to the bathroom to take a warm shower and shave your legs to ease the soreness of the day, you're not tipically so "fancy", but you haven't had the time to enjoy your partner's embrace or yourself all week, you wanted to feel precious, like a doll.
an hour later, you get dressed into a set of pijamas you bought in your lunch break the other day, cream coloured with polka dots all over it and black, lacy panties, with a small bow on the front. you feel fancy, smelling of lotus and sandalwood.. though a sound stirs around your home, you hear the door open, someone is attracted to the smell.
max.
he barely greets you, just pulls you close and hugs you tightly, sniffing your neck.
"hi to you too, mr. baron." - you say jokingky.
"i came home early." - he mutters.
"i could tell."
he missed you, a lot. too bad he was asleep when you arrived, but now that he saw the way the pajamas you're wearing hug your curves, your damp hair and your shiny, smooth skin.. he will not let you go for some time now. the tired, loving glare in his eyes can only help you so much.. you can't do anything but accept his grasp. you caress his hair softly as he kisses and bites your neck, even though he knows you bruise easily, but how could he care? your skin has the whole weekend to heal.
"what's for dinner?" - you ask.
"i was hoping it could be you, but i can definetly cook up with whatever we have on the fridge." - he smirks
"idiot.."
"why am i an idiot, huh?"
you suddenly silence yourself, the warmth of that man's body and the musky scent of his cologne along with his natural smell doing wonders to keep you that way, and maybe his hands and tender kisses tingling your skin do so aswell...
"forget it, i'm tired.." - you sigh.
he nods lazily and keeps holding you, gently pulling you to the kitchen with him, you notice it’s night already and sit by the table of your kitchen, watching him get to work.
your mind wanders through everything going on around you, but you can't help but appreciate the moment; it’s a weekend, you smell nice, you can feel the aroma and of the soft sizzle of garlic in olive oil from far and the love of your life is a few feet away from you, and god does he look so handsome. the way his shoulder blades move along with his slightly calloused hands draws your attention, the warm and slightly dim light of the kitchen making him look more muscular, his blond hair, as messy as it is, suits his features so perfectly, the whole situation is so domestic and sensual. he can basically feel the assault of your eyes.
"need something, hun?" - he calls out, feigning innocence.
you snap out of it, shaking your head and answering:
"oh, i uh.. could you get me a glass of wine?" - you ask politely.
he nods and smiles softly, it quite actually melts you. taking a bottle of wine and pouring you a glass. when he comes closer, the sexual tension is palpable, he hands you the glass, but you avoid his glare, because you know if you look up, he's going to kiss you until you forget how to breathe or stare at your eyes so hungrily you just might be the last woman on earth, but to your surprise, he lays his head on your shoulder and wraps his arms around you, pulling you from your chair. everything is now background noise when you feel his breathing close to your neck. all you can do is caress his hair, sipping the wine he brought you before putting it down.
"how was work?" - you whisper gently.
"boring, i usually have more fun teaching than i did these past few days, most of my students are dickheads, the upper east siders who study there to 'learn humility' and all."
you laugh and he does a bit too, the mood warms up and the atmosphere feels intimate, but you keep the uncomfortable comfortable silence between the two of you.
"i love you so much, you know?" - he says gently
you stay quiet at the sudden break of silence, wanting to hear his confession of love you never get tired of hearing, despite your need for reassurance.
"we can live that whole cliché: get married, have babies, live together until we're old, i'd love to.."
"i know you worry and miss me sick everytime i come home late or when you don't see me in bed in the morning, but it's just how i need to function to work, the city never sleeps.. but i don't wanna lose you ever again, you know it's not shame, we talked about it. i love you, i want to show you that everytime and every way i can.."
you look up at him, seeing the legitimate innocence and love in his eyes, the words he pours to you in a way you've never seen him do before flicking an engine onto your brain, you know he is saying the truth, but it unlocked something inside you that you didn't know was there.
"do you mean it?" - you mutter, sounding like you're about to cry.
"oh, dear.." - he curses at himself under his breath when he sees a tear and hugs you tighter, sitting you down and wiping your flowing tears, kissing your face repeatedly.
"sorry.."
"don't be, please." - he coos.
he rubs your nape, being as gentle as possible with you, then carrying you to the couch and sitting you on his lap. max kisses your neck and exposed chest softly, trying to calm you down. after a bit, the exhaustion of the day and the emotional breakdown wears you off, you fall asleep on his chest, the heartbeat you listened for so long relaxing you like a lullaby.
-
you wake up later at night, covered in a furry brown blanket, seeing max from afar in the kitchen, drinking by himself, looking a bit pale.
you walk up to him and he immediately holds you, caressing your lower back, his eyes flash with guilt.
"are you okay?"
you nod, throat a bit raspy still.
"come here, let me help you feel a bit better."
he gets up to grab a cold cup of water for you, helping you drink and then guides you to wash your face by the sink, the cold tap water helping you feel less weak.
"i finished cooking when you were napping, your favorite."
you glance at the stove top, only to find a rich, creamy looking risotto in a pan, filled with shrimps and vegetables, a comfort food you always feel happy to eat with him after tough shifts or long days in general.
he anxiously caresses your shoulder, giving it a small peck, knowing you haven't eaten in hours and probably survived on fries and a few cigarettes in the evening, you then nod and sit as he sets your food in your favorite bowl, a white one with a delicate design of blue flowers on it's bottom that belonged to your grandmother, the food is warm and inviting and you feel much happier when it reaches your mouth for the first time in a while, the salty, creamy and "tomatoey" flavour filling your taste buds, but the fact that he served it to you already makes you feel infinetly better. he smiles, standing beside you, caressing your hair with all the love he can offer. watching you eat made him feel better, happier.. he couldn't say why, but he felt for you so much that taking his time to take care of you made him feel at ease, that's the way he loves.
as much as he loves you, he's exhausted and still hasn't showered since coming back from work, but he waits until you're done and carries you to bed. as your body lays on the plush cushions, baron kisses your cheek and says:
"i'm going to take a quick shower, alright?"
you nod and he walks to the bathroom, leaving you by yourself. unsure of what to do, you cuddle against your pillow and the freshly cleansed sheets, missing his warmth.
-
you're now almost asleep, only to hear the bathroom door open and see it's steam collide with your cold bedroom. your boyfriend is now freshened up, a white towel covering his hips and below, chest flushed looking due to the warmth of the water and the sensibility of his skin and a few water droplets, but he dosen't quite mind it, and what a sight that is.
max fucking baron. a reserved, clever, tired man who just seems so quiet and closed to the naked eye of the people around him, is now in front of you, naked, about to put on clothes and lay beside you, only to probably take them off again shortly because he just can't help himself, all he wants is to love you, to fuck you like he needs the kick to go throughout the day and keep the facade going, to feel alive. he does not only love you; your looks, your behaviour, your smell, your identity.. he quite actually needs you, he needs your body, your reassurance, your presence, you. - and he's about to get it.
he knows you're awake, but pretends not to know. he's now wearing blue plaid sweatpants he usually wears to sleep, you always say it makes him look cutesy, but now that he's wearing nothing under them, it just might not be quite cute anymore. you can feel him come closer when you smell a woody, sweet scent beside you, now turning on the lamp beside you in the dark. he takes a second to stare at you, "asleep", all dolled up for him, he can't help but smile..
he lays beside you, staring at your chest once more, now coming closer to kiss it, trailling up to your neck. his lips feel tender, yet so deliciously fierce in your skin. he whispers softly into your ear:
"wake up, sugar."
a shiver runs down your spine and he feels it, yet you still feign a light stir, waking up as he kisses your neck.
"hmm, what maxie?"
"talk to me."
"about what?"
"about your day, darling. anything.."
he mutters, kissing your jaw as you unconsciously place your hand in his strands, caressing his slightly damp hair, you don't speak for a bit.
"i got a lot of tips today, read a little in my lunch break too. the breeze was kind of peaceful, that's rare in new york."
max nods, then kisses you softly, seeking your tongue for a small second, then answering between kisses, barely making sense at the high of feeling you:
"that's great baby. but how could you not get those tips with that pretty little body of yours? you're so beautiful.. so so gorgeous, but they can't have you."
he kisses lower, you don't stop him. he's unbuttoning your shirt already, sniffing and kissing your sternum along the corner of your breasts, massaging your left one, you sigh in pleasure. he knows your boobs are sensitive, yet he quivers everytime you moan from the feeling of his hands on your body, it’s like a drug to him, he always comes back for the feeling: your nails carved on his back, the sounds, the aftershocks, the eye contact.. he begs and pleas everytime you ask him to do so, as reserved as he is, he can be quite vocal, and for you, he would do anything.
you feel his lips on your lower stomach, feeling the twitching bulge in his pants, at this point, you're soaked and ready, he can feel the warmth between your thighs as his lips get closer, but he mutters:
"may i?"
"say please."
"please." - he pleas gently, looking up at you in lust and slight submission.
"go ahead, max."
he takes off your shorts, taking a second to stare at your lacy panties and graze his thumb around it's wetness, your legs shake.
"so wet and pretty.." - he praises, giving the small bow in your panties a kiss before taking it off with his teeth.
you lay your head back, feeling his tongue flicking against your already sensitive clit making you moan so sweetly, it echoes like a melody into max's ears and only pushes him further to eat you out. he tastes you and moans into your pussy, the vibrations adding to your pleasure, to him, you just might be a fountain to the sweetest nectar to have ever touched his lips, he tastes you like he's been starving all week to finally do this; working relentlessly and always coming home late to finally relief his stress, like your juices are the key to his peace, like it pleasures him more than it pleasures you.
he keeps this pace for some time, hearing your sounds over and over again, until he feels your legs trembling more than usual, he knows you're close and that you're going to cry from pleasure when he's done with you. to rush your orgasm, max gently dips two fingers inside you, holding your thigh with his free hand and stimulating your clit with his tongue, making you moan louder.
"come on, pretty lady.. just let go for me, don't make me beg."
he reaches your g-spot, making your hands shake and grasp his shoulders in desperation, and when you least expect it, you release into his mouth and fingers, making you groan and cry out his name.
max rolls his eyes in pleasure, swallowing everything you offer to him, you pull him close to kiss his lips, tasting yourself in his tongue then falling back, still tense from the orgasm. he still hovers your body, biting and kissing it.
"you tasted so nice, angel.. but i still need more of you somehow."
all he can hear is your uneven, shaky breaths. his strong hands just keep touching your curves with all the care and need in the world as you come closer, placing your head on his chest, he shifts a hand away from your butt and places it on you hair, caressing it gently while kissing your teared cheeks.
"are you okay?" - he asks, touching your face.
"yeah i am." - you answer quietly, before continuing:
"let me help you too, maxie."
"are you sure? i-"
"let me please you."
he stops, feeling your hand creeping down the waistband of his sweatpants, your forehead is pressed against the light hair of his chest.. he knows what you're about to do. your hand dives lower, grabbing the base of his cock and gently stroking it, he gasps at the feeling of your hands and lays back, spreading his legs.
you brush your thumb against his sensitive tip and grab a small container with his favorite lotion with your free hand. it has no scent, but he likes the formula and how soft his skin feels when he applies it to his sculpted body, you apply a bit into your other hand and start massaging the base of his cock once more, speeding up after a few minutes at the sight of him gasping and whimpering at the feeling of your palm, it’s a guilty pleasure of yours; watching him moan. its something so "tipically feminine", yet a shiver creeps through the length of your spine every time he gets a bit more desperate, when he looks at you while you do it, eyes tearing up, sweaty forehead... it's adorable.
"h-honey.. are you really going to make me cum like this?"
"yes, be quiet."
deep down, you want him to be louder, but the kick you get everytime he does what you want feels so much better, and so he does.. his moans are now quieter, but still present at the intense strokes, you feel his breath shaken, then he finally releases. your hand is now completely sticky, you clean your hands and his cock with wipes and discard them in the trash bin beside your bed.
now crawling back to him, he suddenly grabs you mid way by the waist to kiss you passionately, your hands reaching his shoulders and neck, it feels unreal.. the room is now warm and reeking of sex, his breath smells like the scotch he was drinking before the both of you went to bed, his hair smells like sweat and your new shampoo, his neck (that your face is currently burried in) smells like wood and desire, it fills your nostrils, making you sigh in relief after such a deep connection and understanding from you and max, he also sniffs your hair before breaking the silence:
"lets take a shower, sweetheart. i'll clean you up, okay?"
you nod. before you know it, he stands up and carries you with him, you take a second to stare at his face on the way after the both of you ruined eachother and now stay in peace; he looks angelic, his features out of a fantasy, you can never believe it, his beauty is mesmerizing. now that you two have nourished the need both of you have for intimacy and devotion in the bedroom, a warm shower, a gossip session and long hours of sleep await after such a lovely friday night, you can only thank any form of diviness for moments like this.
OK, everyone. I'm a little playlist-manic and impulsively make ones for characters/actors/films that I love. Here are my Spader-oriented ones. I hope you enjoy it if you are interested in any of those.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: White Palace (1990)
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Nora Baker/Max Baron
Characters: Nora Baker, Max Baron
Additional Tags: Older Woman/Younger Man, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex
Summary:
After the movie ends…
Nora took off to New York City and Max followed to be with her.
