Hey there my sweet friend 😄 I wanted to see if I could put in a request for our dear Max California 😎😍 Something NSFW but romantic like where the reader has just had the most mentally draining day at work and all she wants is to eat, bathe and chill with her favorite guy and he tries to help relax her 😉 Thank you so much!😘😂
Here you go darling! a cute evening with Max! I feel like he would be one of the best guys for comfort <3
Forget the day- Max California x you
The smell of takeout hit you the second the front door clicked open, but even that couldn't fully drown out the throbbing behind your eyes. You dropped your bag on the floor with a heavy thud, not caring where it landed, and leaned back against the wood, letting out a sigh, your fingers rubbing the bridge of your nose.
"Rough day?" Max’s voice asked from the living room. A moment later, he appeared in the hallway, looking the way he always did, a dark worn out shirt, messy dark hair that looked like he’d been running his hands through it all day, and that soft, concerned gaze that made your chest tight.
"Rough doesn't cover it." You muttered, kicking off your shoes. "I want to burn the building down. Or at least my desk. Haven't decided."
He huffed a quiet laugh, crossing the distance between you in a few long strides. His hands found your waist immediately, grounding you, pulling you in until you were pressed against his chest. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, sweat, old leather, and that scent of smoke that always clung to him. You would never have expected it would become the most comforting thing in the world.
"I vote for the desk." he murmured against your hair, his lips brushing your forehead. "Less paperwork to explain to the cops." You smiled despite yourself, your fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket.
"God, I'm exhausted. I just want to eat, wash the day off me and chill. Without having to think of anything.” You sighed against his skin.
"Consider it handled." He pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, his thumbs stroking your hips. "Go start the water. I'll get the food set up."
You didn't argue. You let him go with a lingering squeeze to his hand and headed straight for the bathroom. By the time you had the tub filled with hot water and stripped out of your suffocating work clothes, the reality of the day was starting to fade, replaced by the steam curling around the mirror.
You sank into the water with a groan, leaning your head back against the tub and closing your eyes. For a while, there was just the sound of water and the muffled noises of Max moving around in the kitchen while humming one of his songs. Then, the door creaked open.
You didn't open your eyes, but you felt the air shift, cooler for a second before the warmth returned. The lid of a container clicked open.
"I smell General Tso's…" you mumbled, keeping your eyes shut.
"Only the best for a disaster day." Max said. You heard the rustle of him sitting on the edge of the tub, and then the faint clink of a fork against ceramic. "Open up."
You cracked one eye open. He was watching you, that intensity in his gaze that used to intimidate you but now just made you feel safe. He held a piece of tofu out to your lips. You leaned forward, taking the bite, the spicy-sweet flavor exploding on your tongue.
"Good?"
"Perfect." you hummed in pleasure, swallowing. Asian food was your top comfort food "You're spoiling me."
"Someone's gotta." He fed you another piece, then took one for himself, watching you eat like he was memorizing the way your lips moved. "You look like you're about to fall asleep right here."
"I feel like it. The water's amazing."
He set the container down on the floor and reached into the water, his hand sliding up your calf under the bubbles. His touch was gentle, almost experimental, just tracing the lines of your muscle, but it sent a shiver straight up your spine that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
"You're tense." he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, rougher than before. He shifted closer, his knees bumping the porcelain. "Turn around."
You obeyed without thinking, turning your back to him and drawing your knees up to your chest. His hands found your shoulders, his thumbs digging into the knots there with firm pressure. You let out a sound that was half-gasp, half-moan as his fingers worked the tension out of your neck, his palms hot and slick against your wet skin.
"Max…"
"Right there?" He leaned in, his chest pressing against the back of your head, his breath hot against your ear.
"Yeah. Don't stop." You melted into his touch, your head heavy against his chest.
He didn't. His hands moved down your back, caressing your skin, his touch shifting from therapeutic to something more possessive. He dragged his nails lightly down your spine, making you arch back into him, the water sloshing gently around you.
"You work too hard." he whispered, one hand sliding around to rest on your stomach under the water, pulling you back against him. "Let me take care of you tonight. I want to make you forget all about it." He suggested, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the skin there. Whatever was left of your work stress evaporated.
There was only him, the heat of his body, the roughness of his hands, and the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
"Okay…" you breathed, turning your head to capture his lips in a slow, deep kiss. "Please do…"
He kept his lips pressed to yours, swallowing the little noises you couldn't hold back, but his hands were busy beneath the water. The soap made everything slick, his palms gliding effortlessly over your wet skin. He broke the kiss just enough to look down, watching the way his hands moved over you.
His palms slid over your ribs, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts, teasing the sensitive skin there without actually touching you where you wanted him most.
"Max…" you breathed, your head falling back against his shoulder.
"I got you." he murmured, his voice rough against your ear. "Just relax…I’m here…"
He shifted his weight, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you steady against him while his other hand moved lower. He didn't rush. He let his fingers trail over your stomach, tracing the lines of your hipbones before dipping between your thighs.
You gasped, your legs parting instinctively to give him room. His fingers found you immediately, sliding through your folds to check how ready you were. He groaned low in his throat when he felt how wet you were, mixing with the bathwater.
"Already?" he teased, though there was a smirk in his voice you could hear rather than see. "I thought you were tired."
"Shut up." you muttered, splashing him with a bit of water, making him laugh. You turned your face into his neck to hide the flush rising in your cheeks. "Just… don't stop."
“At your service babe.” he smiled, kissing your temple as he circled your clit with slow, deliberate pressure, the contrast of his calloused fingertips against the slick, sensitive flesh making your hips buck. He held you tighter, pinning you back against his chest so you couldn't move away from the sensation.
"Is this helping?" he whispered, his breath hot against your temple. He pressed harder, dragging his fingers in a rhythm that was designed to unravel you. "Helping you forget?"
"God, yes…" you whimpered, your eyes fluttering shut. The water around you felt heavy, grounding you, while his hand was the only thing that mattered. It was perfect, the combination of his overwhelming presence and the way he was touching you, only that mattered.
He curled his fingers inside you just right, his thumb never ceasing its torture on your clit. You could feel the muscles in his forearm flexing against your stomach as he worked you, his pace steady and merciless.
"That's it…" he encouraged, his lips grazing the pulse point in your neck. "Let go. I've got you."
The tension in your body, which had been coiling tight all day, suddenly snapped. You cried out, your back arching off his chest as the pleasure washed over you, intense and overwhelming. He didn't stop, drawing it out until you were trembling in his arms, completely spent.
When you finally came back down, you were slumped against him, the water cooling slightly around you. He pressed a kiss to your damp shoulder, wrapping both arms around you to hold you close.
"Better?" he asked quietly, almost lulling you in his arms.
You nodded, unable to find your voice, turning in the water to bury your face in his chest. He rested his chin on top of your head, his hands idly stroking your back under the water, letting you float in the afterglow.
“Let me grab a towel and dry you. We can go to bed and watch your favorite rom com.” he suggested softly, one arm grabbing a long towel.
“You hate rom coms…”
“I never said that. I will just make shitty comments during the entire movie.” he grinned, making you giggle. That sounded like a perfect night. You didn’t realize it, but you had already forgotten your bad day.
Here it is! Be warned at least one extra chapter his planned for this, I love writing steamy chaotic Max!
( Public play, teasing, filthy and affectionate, Friends-with-benefits, flirty coworkers)
You never meant to become friends with Max California. So, becoming more intimate had been the surprise of your life.
It had started like every other fucked-up flirtation with Max: half a dare, half a bad idea, soaked in neon and noise.
Tonight, you were out together, some sleazy underground club where the lights are dim and the bass is thick enough to make your ribs ache. Max had his arm slung lazily around your shoulders like it’s just another Tuesday. But his fingers? They’re twitching with intent.
“You look too good tonight,” he said in your ear, voice slick with amusement. “Might have to do something about it.”
You gave him a look, a warning, yet the neon lights hid the blush of your cheeks “Max.”
“What?” He grinned, wicked. “I’m behaving. For now.”
But the way he was looking at you said: not for long.
By the time, you were tucked into a booth in the back, barely lit, mostly forgotten by the swaying bodies on the dance floor, he was already too close. Your thighs brushed under the table. His arm settled on the back of the seat. And then his hand dropped...to your leg.
His palm was warm, rings cold against your skin. He squeezed your inner thigh just once, testing. “Tell me to stop.” he murmured, low enough so only you could hear.
You didn’t and simply looked at him in the eyes, defying.
He laughed, soft and pleased. “That’s what I thought.”
You ended up talking to someone, a friend of Max, some girl with glitter on her cheeks and a drink in each hand. And yet he was still touching you. Sliding his fingers up higher. The tablecloth covered most of it, but you felt exposed, and you felt like you were going to combust, your cheeks burning, your heart racing in your chest.
His hand slipped between your legs, his purpose clear. You nearly choked on your drink, your toes curling in anticipation.
Max leaned in, pretending to listen to the conversation. His fingers parted your legs wider. One dips beneath your waistband. He found you warm, already slick, ready, and you felt his breath hitch against your neck.
“Fuck...” he whispered. “You’re soaked for me already. That’s so dirty, baby.”
Your pulse was crazy, as if your heart would burst out of your chest. Max was grinning like a devil, one finger circling you slow, so slow. He was teasing, deliberately drawing it out. You shifted in your seat, your breath catching, and he only pressed in deeper.
“You gotta keep your face pretty,” he muttered. “Don’t want them knowing what I’m doing, do we?”
“Fuck..”You wanted to kill him, really. But you’re too far gone.
Every time the girl glanced your way, Max would still. All smiles, friendly, easy, like he’s not got two fingers buried inside you beneath the table. Like he’s not curling them just right.
Your thighs twitched, you bite the inside of your cheek. Max watched you with dark amusement, fucking you with his hand slow and dirty, the pad of his thumb rubbing soft little circles that make you want to scream.
“Still being good?” he asked, feigning innocence. “You better not come until I say.” he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes drinking every detail, every tiny expressions your face showed. Your hands gripped the edge of the seat, you were barely holding on, so close to orgasm it was hard to conceal.
“God, you’re so fucking hot like this” he breathed in your ear. “Dripping all over my fingers and trying not to make a sound. You know what that does to me?” He pressed his hard length into your hip, grinding once for emphasis. Your hips bucked instinctively, but he slapped your thigh with his free hand. A warning.
“Ah-ah,” he grinned. “Keep still.”
You nodded, desperate. Thankfully it was just the two of you now, you were panting, your legs squeezing around his fingers.
“Use your words, baby.”
“Please...” you whimpered, your eyes, meeting his, begging him to allow you final release.
Max leaned in, pressing his mouth to your ear. “My good little slut.”
You come undone right there, quietly, body trembling, vision going hazy. Max kept working you through it, murmuring filth in your ear, telling you how pretty you looked when you broke for him.
You let yourself fall against Max as he withdrew his hand, kissing your temple. He licked his fingers clean, slow and obscene, never breaking eye contact.
“Jesus, Max.” you exhaled in extasy.
He just grined, licking his lips. “Wanna go somewhere even riskier?”
But you pressed a hand against his chest before he could name a ridiculous place “Go sing first.”
He blinked, as if remembering, his smirk faltering, just slightly. “What?”
“You came here to perform, Max.” you murmured, voice low and breathless but steady. “Don’t make them wait.”
His grin returned, but softer now. Less wolfish. He brushed a knuckle along your jaw, slow. You were flushed, your legs still trembling under the table, and he looked at you like you just ruined him in the best way.
“Gonna be hard to focus now” he said, “knowing you’re sitting out here all fucked-out and pretty.” he chuckled as you smiled back. Just a little and crossed your legs sensually.
He huffed a laugh, then kissed you, just a real kiss this time. No tongue, no show. Just warmth and lips and a thumb on your cheek like he doesn’t want to let go.
“I’ll be watching.” you promised. And that did something to him. His eyes darting away, then back, then down to your mouth. He stole you one more kiss, softer still, just a press, and then pulled back like it costed him.
“Fine.” he murmured. “But after the set? You’re mine again.” He winked at you, standing, adjusting his belt, flicking his tongue over his teeth like he’s winding himself back into Max California. But there was a faint pink to his ears. When he took the stage, lit in cheap club lights and worn leather, he sang like he was singing just for you.
You blushed, finding yourself thinking about how it all started...
***A few months before***
The job was supposed to be temporary, just a few shifts at the adult store while your real life sorted itself out. Max was there on your first day, sprawled behind the counter like he owned the place, eyeliner smudged, boots up, flipping through a magazine you were pretty sure wasn’t just for articles.
He glanced up at you.“Newbie,” he said.“Welcome to the kingdom of kinks. I’m your corrupt tour guide. You’re either gonna quit in a week or end up telling me your safe word. Let’s find out.”
You blinked, wondering if you had ended with the worst coworker you could get, a pervert.
“Relax.” he added, hopping off the counter. “I’m joking. Mostly. You got a name, or should I just call you ‘Intern Number Four’?”
You gave him your name, eyeing him, that boy was one of the kind. Rather handsome and full of confidence. You thought either you wouldn’t be able to stand him, or he would become your best friend in the dark underworld.
He nodded like he was already assigning you a permanent nickname. “Cool. You’re gonna want gloves for aisle three. The lube shelf leaks like a war crime.”
He introduced you to the store like it was sacred ground. Every toy had a nickname. Every porn DVD had a rating system “Plot, acting, thrust realism. I grade hard but fair.” He gave you a rundown of fetishes with the precision of a professor and the glee of someone who really wanted you to laugh.
But what stood out was how safe he made it feel. No judgment. No pressure. Just jokes, consent, and curiosity.
Three weeks later, you were in the backroom together, laughing so hard you nearly dropped a box of vibrating nipple clamps.
Max made everything chaotic. He talked constantly. He’d lean over your shoulder while you stocked shelves, whispering filthy commentary about the merchandise. He made bets about customers. He asked personal questions way too fast and shared way too much.
And somehow… it worked. You started bringing your camera to work on slow nights, taking shots of neon signs, reflections in toy packaging, Max in ridiculous poses between aisles. He loved it.
“Make me look like one of those tortured rockstar bitches,” he’d say, sprawling dramatically across the register.
You clicked the shutter. “You are one.”
He grinned. “Yeah, but now there’s proof.”
One night, the manager left early, and Max put on a playlist he swore was ‘the filthiest soundtrack ever made.’ You were both halfway through restocking lube samples when he said, “Hey. You ever shoot people at parties?”
You looked up. “Like photography?”
“Yeah.” He hesitated. “There’s this libertine club. Chill place. Everyone’s cool. Sometimes there’s performances, sometimes it’s just vibes. You should come. Bring your camera. I think you’d like it.”
Your brow rose. “And this has nothing to do with the fact you want me to see you half-naked in mood lighting?”
He winked. “I said you’d like it. I already know I look great.”
You pretended to consider. “Do I have to wear latex?”
“Only if you want free drinks.” he grinned.
And that’s how you ended up for the first time in a libertine club. And you did bring your camera. The club was nothing like you expected. Not sleazy nor loud. It was beautiful, in a twisted, intimate kind of way: crimson curtains, velvet booths. Shadows moving like smoke. Everything glows soft red and amber, moody, secretive, alive. Bodies sway to slow music, some clothed, some nearly naked, but no one looked twice. Everyone was in it And everyone looked like they belonged.
You did not.Not yet.
Max noticed immediately. He nudged you through the front bar, one hand on your lower back, just enough pressure to anchor you.
“You good?” he murmured, close to your ear. You nodded, but your fingers are clenched to conceal the nervous trembling. He noticed that too.
“Wanna bail?”
“No.” you said quickly. “Just... new.”
He grinned. “Yeah. I remember that feeling. First time I came here, I thought someone was gonna ask me to get naked and crawl on all fours.”
“Did they?” you asked, the conversation distracting you positively.
“Almost.” He smirks. “I said I only do that on Thursdays.”
You laughed, tension breaking just a little.
He led you to a booth tucked into one of the side rooms. Softer music here. Softer light. A low table with half-empty glasses and a silk rope coiled on one end like a centerpiece.
As you sat, he lounged across from you like he owned the place, one boot on the cushion, elbow draped over the backrest, lazy and lethal in a tank top and chains. The leather jacket long gone.
“This is the voyeur room,” he introduced with a sense of familiarity “You can watch. Or be watched. Or both.”
Your eyebrows lifted. “Which do you prefer?”
Max siped his drink, smiling charmingly “Depends on the mood. And the company.” at those words his gaze lingered on you. Leaving a bruning sensation over your skin.
At some point, you start taking photos, slow, careful, respectful. Light bouncing off skin, silhouettes against sheer curtains, two women laughing in each other’s arms, someone tied with silk and smiling.
You were in your zone. And Max watched you work like it was a private show.
“Your face changes when you shoot,” he said when you returned to the booth. “You get all focused. Soft. Like you’re seeing something no one else can.”
You shrugged, bashful. “Guess that’s the point.”
He nods. “You’re good at it.” And he meant it.
Later, after a few drinks, Max was dancing like he didn’t care who was watching, but his eyes kept finding you. In the crowd. In the dark. Through the lens.
That night, both of you tipsy, surrounded by laughter, moans in the distance you sat next to each other, relaxed. You showed him a photo you took of him laughing in red light, head thrown back, eyeliner smudged, joy and danger all over his face.
His thigh pressed against yours. He didn’t move away, enjoyig the proximity and you did too. He looked at the photos for a long time. Then he said, quiet: “Nobody ever gets me like that.”
You didn’t answer, flattered, briefly avoiding his gaze. And as silence stretched, he spoke again “I won’t lie.” he murmured voice thick with mischief to change subject “I half-expected you to ditch me for someone in latex.”
You grinned “Maybe next time.”
“You’re saying there’s a next time?”
You turned toward him, faces close, heat lingering between your skin.“I liked it more than I thought.”
He licked his lips slowly. “Then I’ll keep bringing you. Think you’re the only person I trust to keep my ego in check.”
You laughed, leaning into him. His shoulder bumping yours. And when your hand brushed his, just for a second, he didn't pull away. He just curled his pinky around yours, so subtly it might not even be real. But it was.
It felt like something unspoken started right there. Something that would build, shift, simmer.
***Back to present times***
It was a slow afternoon. You were restocking shelves, pricing vibrators, trying to ignore Max who was leaning on the glass counter like he was starring in a porno about lazy clerks with great cheekbones.
He tapped the packaging of a vibrating cock ring.“Hey,” he called. “This one’s got twelve settings. That’s six more than I can manage manually.”
You glanced at him. “That’s generous. I would’ve guessed four.”
He gasped. “You slander me in my own place of worship!”
You grinned. “It’s mutual. You once said my ‘aura is like a bisexual funeral.’”
He snorted. “Yeah, but I meant it with love.”
You rolled your eyes, heading into the back to grab more inventory. Max followed. Of course he did
He climbed onto a stool, chewing on a toothpick he got from who-knows-where, and watched you. You reached up to pull down a box from the top shelf. Your shirt lifting and showing skin.
“Do that again.” His voice went low.
“Are we back to victorian era?” You shoot him a look. “You’re a menace.”
He smirked. “And yet… here we are.”
You stepped down. And before you could say anything else, he took one step forward, and kissed you. Soft, careful, almost surprised with himself, like he didn’t plan to do it until it was already happening.
You froze. Then melted. Your hands slide into his hair. His arms came around your waist. The kiss turned deep, not rushed, not filthy, just real. Different from the kisses you shared before. The kind of kiss that says I’ve wanted to do this for a long time but didn’t know how to ask.
When you pulled back, you were both a little breathless. Max stared at you. Eyes wide. Laughter dancing behind them. “Well fuck.” he said. “You’re gonna make me fall or some shit.”
That night, you headed to his place. Max insisted you watch some bootleg punk-horror hybrid from the ‘80s called Suck My Chainsaw. You said you would leave right after. He shrugged and patted the couch, throwing a blanket over both of you like it was definitely not a trap.
The movie was trash. Max quoted every line. Your head ended up on his shoulder somewhere around the second act. He rests his cheek against your hair like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You didn’t leave, you both ended up half-asleep in the low flicker of the screen, curled together in a mess of limbs and denim.
“Stay.” he murmured.“I mean... stay like overnight. Crash here. Spare toothbrush is in the skull mug.”
You open one eye, grunting “Romantic.”
“I contain multitudes.”
You woke up in his bed sometime around 3 a.m. The blanket had fallen off. You were warm. Max was warmer, sprawled beside you, shirtless, breathing steady, one hand thrown loosely across your stomach.
You don’t move. Not yet, you knew it was just a game.
You watched his hand shifting, fingers flexing, trailinsg down, slowly. Uncertain. Like he was asleep… or pretending to be.
You whispered “Max?”
He didn’t answer. But his hand kept going. Across your hip, down the front of your underwear, testing. You suck in a breath.
His voice rang low and wrecked in the dark: “Tell me to stop.”
You didn’t. He groaned, relieved, starving, and slid his hand down fully, cupping you through your underwear. “Fuck” he breathed. “Been thinking about this for weeks.”
You turned towards him. He kissed you before you could answer, deep, hot, needy. His hand worked you while his mouth devoursed you, soft gasps and filthy praise tangled between kisses.
“I wanna taste you...” he whispered. “Let me? Please?”
You nodded. He didn’t wait. He moved down the bed, dragging your clothes away like he’s done this in every dream. He took his time. Using his tongue like a weapon, slow and relentless , moaning against you, muttering how perfect you were
When you finally came, it was with your hand in his hair and your name breaking from his mouth like it meant something. Somehting more.
He crawled back up, pressing kisses to your chest, your neck, your jaw.
“You’re mine.” he whispers, smiling. “Sex friends. No refunds. As I told you from the start.”
....
You woke before he does. The sun was starting to filter through his crooked blinds, casting gold lines across the crumpled sheets. Max wason his stomach, one arm flung across your waist like he’s claiming you even in sleep.
There’s was hickey on his shoulder, your doing.You smile, breathing slow. Then, you rolled onto your side and traced a finger across his spine.It made him shift.
“Mmgh… again?” he mumbled into the pillow. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I might be tapped out.”
You laughed softly. “Relax. I was letting you sleep.”
He lifted his head just enough to peer at you. His hair’s a mess. Eyes half-lidded. And he smiled, soft, crooked and sleepy.
“You stayed.” he stated happily.
You raised an eyebrow. “Apparently the bed’s shit when I’m not in it.”
He snorted. “Good. Rent’s paid in orgasms. You’re warned.” earning him a light kick under the covers.
In that late morning, you found yourself in his kitchen in his oversized shirt, sipping coffee out of a chipped mug while he searched for pants and dramatically yells that someone stole his dignity.
“Pretty sure you pawned it in ‘97.” you called back.
He appeared a minute later, shirtless, tattoos and sleep-mussed hair and a pair of jeans slung low. He leaned on the counter, observing you with a rare intensity. Long enough that you lowered the mug.
“What?”
He shruggged. “Just thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
“No he says, and the smile fades a little. Becomes something quieter. “Just… this. Us. Last night. This morning...It didn’t feel weird. Not even for a second.”
You nod. “It didn’t. Because...we are’better than best friends’. Way better perks.” You chuckled “And no refunds?”
He grinned. “Hell no. You’re stuck with me now.” He leaned over you, kissing you; quick, soft, and so fucking easy. To think that earlier that week, you had found yourself in a club booth, his fingers between your legs, his voice in your ear, whispering:
“Don’t make a sound.” now it felt like this was becoming more than friendship with benefits...
***
“Okay, hear me out.”
You looked up from where you're pricing lube bottles. Max was holding a new product like it’s radioactive, a double-ended vibrator in glossy black plastic, shaped like something between a snake and a question mark.
“If we don’t test this, are we really doing our jobs?”
You raised a brow. “You wanna try it on yourself, or...?”
He grinned. “Us. For science.”
You scoffed. “We barely survived the vibrating saddle last month.”
Max looked wistful. “RIP my tailbone. But my soul ascended.”
You tossed a bottle cap at him. He catched it with his mouth like a show dog and bowed, making you laugh. It made you think how natural and happy whatever was between you two was. Lately you had found yourself thinking more and more about making it a true relationship, like official. You only waited for Max to express the same.
Later, while restocking shelves, he leaned his chin on your shoulder from behind.
“You know,” he said, voice low, “we could write off a few of these as ‘internal staff use.’ Technically.”
You tilted your head. “You trying to expand our sex life?”
He hummed to confirm “If capitalism’s gonna eat us alive, might as well come first.”
You nudged him with your elbow, but he didn’t move.
Instead, his hands slid around your waist, not groping, not teasing. Just holding. A rare stillness in Max California.
“You good?” you murmured, blushing, wondering if it would lead to the serious conversation you had been waiting for.
He nodded against your back. “Just... like this.”
You covered his hand with yours. Letting the silence stretch. It was weird, you thought, how easily you went from coworkers to confidants to something that defies naming. There was nothing official. No labels.
But the way he was holding you now?
It said mine without a word.
***the morning after***
The sun was barely up when you woke, but the room was already warm. One curtain was crooked, letting a beam of light fall across the bed. Dust floated in it like glitter. Somewhere, a car alarm chirped and died.
You were tangled in Max’s sheets, legs intertwined, your back pressed to his chest. He was half-sprawled across you, arm heavy over your stomach, his breath soft at your neck. One ring dug lightly into your skin, a reminder he didn’t even take them off last night.
You shifted making him groan.
“Mmf… don’t move. You’re ruining the whole perfect body pillow thing we got going.”
You laughed, your fingers playing with the rings on his hand “You’re drooling on me.”
“Affectionately.” He nuzzled into your shoulder, still mostly asleep. “You’re lucky. Most people don’t get Max California in post-fuck cuddle mode. This is elite access, babe.”
You hummed, playful. “Is this you pretending you’re not a good cuddler?”
“Shut up.” he mumbles. “I’m dangerous and mysterious.”
You turned over to face him. He was all bed hair and sleep-creased cheeks, one eye cracked open, watching you.
“Good morning,” you said softly.
He smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes right away. There was something lingering there, something tender and unspoken. His hand drifted up to cup your cheek.
“I liked last night.” he says, voice hushed. “Not just the… you know. Filthy stuff. The other stuff too.”
Your throat tightened, not daring to hope for another confession.
“I know,” you said. And you kissed him, gentle, long. Just warmth and lips and Max slowly pulling you on top of him with a sigh that said he was not ready to let you go yet.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured into your mouth.
You stilled at his words. He noticed, pulling back just a bit, eyes searching yours.
“I mean… not too used to it,” he says quickly, backpedaling. “Not like... ‘brunch and joint bank accounts’ used to it.”
You smile. “Relax, Max. It’s just morning. No one’s asking for a wedding ring. I just...could get used to it too.”
His shoulders eased and he exhaled, caressing your back “Then, let’s see where it leads us...”
You didn't reply and instead, you grinded down just a little, slow and deliberate, making his smirk return like a sunrise.
“Oh no.” he whispered, hands finding your hips. “You’re dangerous in the morning.”
You rolled your hips again, making him gasp and bite his lower lip. The start of something, not just full of sex but companionship.
I hope you don't have too many requests, but I'll add to the list 😅
I was wondering if you could write for max. Maybe a girl comes into the store looking for a gift for her friend as a prank, and he's a major flirt and follows her around the store 💕
Heyyyy sorry for the delay! but here it is! I'm missign Max lately so I wrote a little something, might write a smutty part if you want!
Rated Max - Max California x Reader
***Adult store, early afternoon***
You stepped inside, blinking against the dim red lights. The place was warmer than you expected, and smelled faintly of incense, leather, and something vaguely plastic. Rows of VHS covers, neon signs, and curtained booths filled your view. You hesitated for a second, just one second, and that was all it took.
"Well, well..." a voice drawled from behind the counter. "We got ourselves a stray kitten."
You looked up. The guy behind the counter was lounging like the job description said 'sit like you own the place'. Leather pants, leopard print shirt open to the third button, a chain glinting under the lights. Covered in tattooes. Max California, in all his chaotic glory, leaned forward with a slow grin.
"Don't tell me...you're here for the cinema experience?" His voice was syrupy, teasing. "Or are you more the... toy aisle type?"
You raised a brow, trying not to smirk. “Actually, I’m looking for a gift. Something ridiculous. My friend’s birthday. Total prank.”
Max’s eyes lit up. “Oh, a woman of culture. I like that.”
He stepped out from behind the counter, walking with that smooth, too-casual sway. He didn't stop until he was closer than necessary, head tilted, eyes flicking over you like he was reading a label. “Tell me, how ridiculous are we talking? Handcuffs and edible underwear? Or vibrating... well, you get the idea.”
You tried not to laugh. “Maybe something in between. Funny, but not traumatizing.”
“Oh, come on,” Max purred, stepping around you to lead the way. “You sure you don't wanna traumatize just a little? We’ve got a stunning array of things that vibrate, pulsate, and if you're lucky, hum a little tune.”
You shook your head, following him. “You’re terrible.”
He stopped, turning around suddenly, and you almost walked right into him. His face was inches from yours. His voice dropped.
“Terrible?” His lips curved up slowly. “Baby, I’m the best kind of terrible.” he purred with great confidence and it made air between you spark with something you didn’t expect to find in a place like this.
Before you could recover, he turned, grabbing something from the shelf. He held up a rubber duck. With a vibrator inside.
“Behold: the mighty Quackinator 3000!” he announced dramatically. “Waterproof. Rechargeable. Guaranteed to make bathtime... spiritual.”
You snorted, covering your mouth. “You’re joking.”
“I never joke about ducks. That’s sacred.”
You couldn't help but laugh this time. You took it from him, holding it up. “You know, it’s weird, but it might be perfect.”
“I knew you had taste,” Max said, leaning a little closer, voice dropping to a near whisper. “But just so you know... if your friend ever needs a demonstration, I make house calls.”
Your cheeks flushed. “I’ll… keep that in mind.”
He grinned. “Do.”
***The store, a few days later. Late evening. Neon flickers. The bell rings again.***
Max didn’t even look up at first. He was sprawled in a chair behind the counter, flipping through an adult- rated magazine, chewing on a toothpick like it had wronged him in a past life. The bell had rung half a dozen times today. Probably another lonely guy with bad breath and exact change.
“Back for more ducky delights?” he muttered lazily.
Silence.
“Actually… I was hoping you could help me find something specific.” he instantly recognized your voice, you had all his attention now.
He looked up slowly, the corners of his mouth curling in that lazy smirk that should have come with a warning label. “Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite prank shopper. What can I do for you, darlin’? Another aquatic adventure? A glow-in-the-dark thong?”
You stepped closer to the counter, resting your palms on it. “I need something… a little different this time.”
Max grinned, ready. “Try me.”
“It’s got this look...kind of messy, but hot. A bit noisy, probably perfect while listening to Bowie in bed. Drives you crazy in the best way.”
"Oh? hmmmm" he arched an eyebrow, thinking hard.
"Smells like leather. Probably high maintenance...surely freaky and trouble."
Now Max narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to puzzle it out. “Wait. Do we even sell that?”
You leaned closer, dropping your voice, locking eyes with him. “No. But I was told I could find you here.”
His whole face changed, like someone had just flipped a switch inside him. The grin that followed was slow, almost stunned at first, then downright wicked. “Well, damn.”
You tilted your head, watching him try not to smirk too wide. “Took you long enough.”
He leaned on the counter, arms folding, eyes darkening just a touch. His voice dropped into something rough and velvet-smooth “You come in here, play me like a jukebox, and expect me not to fall for that?”
“Depends. Did you?”
“Baby.” he said, voice a little huskier now, “I’ve been waiting for your smart mouth to walk back through that door since the duck incident. And now you tell me you were looking for me this whole time?”
“I wanted to see if the product matched the marketing,” you said sweetly. “So far, the customer service is top-notch.”
He chuckled lowly, stepping around the counter. “Let me make sure your satisfaction’s guaranteed.”
He stopped in front of you, close again, closer than last time, more deliberate.
“You sure you can handle the deluxe model?” He breathed sensually before briefly turning around and reached under the counter, slid out a laminated card, scribbling something across the front.
He handed it to you with a wink. “Private shopping appointment. After hours. My place. Or yours.”
You glanced down. A phone number. A time. A question mark next to “clothing optional.”
You met his gaze, smile slow and certain. “Try me.”
************
I made myself horny while writing this ahaha,a nyway don't hesitate to like and comment, thank you for reading <3
Also don't hesitate if you want a part 2 or more or Max!
another max california request from different anon🙈 could you please write something about reader being tom welles's investigation partner, so at first she has to tolerate max around for information and then they fall in love🥺 i Absolutely Refuse to accept the canon not gonna lie
Heyyyy here you go the first chapter is finally here! I hope you will enjoy it^^
8mm Max California x You
“This is leading nowhere.” stated Tom, your investigation partner, catching your attention while you were blankly staring at a bunch of papers in your hands. From the corner of your eye, you could see him exhaling the smoke of his cigarette, both of you were visibly frustrated.
You had been working on that case of ‘snuff movies’ for literally weeks, but there were no clues that this was a real thing, and you didn’t believe in it either. Rumors said that the actors just pretended to die, for the appeal of some weird creep jerking off over that crap, but no actual murder. “Calm down, Tom, I’m sure that with a bit of attention and patience, we will be able to collect some more clues, getting angry won’t lead us somewhere either.” you replied, dropping the papers you were holding on your desk, but some of them fell on the floor instead. Tom snorted, annoyed.
“You’ve been saying it for three weeks. I do have patience but I’m not a saint yet. Seeing any halo?” he sarcastically asked, you rolled your eyes. He was unbearable when stressed out. Both of you shut your mouths, filling the room with an awkward silence.
“We need to find someone who works in the porn industry, someone who has a link perhaps, or we will never-”. he added after a while before being interrupted by your phone ringing.
“Tom Welles's private detective office, it’s his assistant Y/N speaking. How can I help you?” you professionally answered, listening to the phone call. You didn’t understand much, there wasn’t enough network, but you recognized the voice of your current client, a young man, his tone was quite desperate, maybe on the verge of crying. You remembered his issue, his fiancé had been gone for a while, the two of them were about to marry in a week. When he called you the first time, he specified that he preferred speaking with you instead of the police, in fear of mockery, or even worse, vengeance. But one thing picked your interest during this second call, he was saying it was related to the porn industry, his fiancé had fallen deep in it…well, this perhaps was the clue you needed for your current investigation, and maybe some other cases you and Tom had been working on lately. “Thank you. Let’s meet at 7 pm at Casey’s cafe on 7th avenue.” you indicated to the young man, noting his name on your notebook. You could tell that man wasn’t from the US, he had a foreigner name, a certain François.
You hung up after a while, feeling Tom’s gaze on you. “So?” he asked. You deeply sighed and shrugged, combing your hair back with your fingers.
“So, maybe we can start seeing a little light in the dark.” you replied with a little smile full of hope.
Now, finally things were moving in the right direction. You decided to keep looking for a link to the porn industry, heading with your partner to a sexshop in the neighborhood before the meeting with Francois, so you would have plenty of leads, hopefully. You grunted in disgust, you didn’t get the pleasure people got from such places as sex shops and even less those working in it, you were probably wrong but you imagined the worst perverts.
“I went there yesterday, the seller seemed to know his stuff. I think he could help us.” commented Tom, feeling you doubtful of his lead.
“What is he like?” you asked, expecting a stereotyped answer, an average middle-aged creep who enjoyed sharing some of his perverted material with his customers. Your opinion on the guy would be biased for a while.
“Some young punk guy. He seems pretty normal actually. He was even pretending to read porn and instead was reading a classic. He has potential I think.” he described to you, making you arch an eyebrow, well you didn’t expect that kind of description at all.
Once you arrived at the sex shop, Tom entered first, you followed, looking around, all the magazines, toys, movies and such, it made you quite uneasy and disgusted. Maybe you weren’t as open minded as you thought, the truth was you were simply flustered by the place, you had heard many things about it. But then, your eyes finally landed on the seller, he indeed looked like a punk, dark blue hair, piercings, tattoos, he looked pretty cool actually and rather handsome to your taste but you quickly pushed that thought away. To work in these kinds of places he must have some twisted personality, he looked out of place, he was better suited as a musician, tattoo artist or even barman. This made you grow suspicious, he had something to hide.
“Hey, looks like you came back for the battery operated vagina after all.” grinned the young man as Tom approached him; you widened your eyes at his words, and glanced at Tom, was he interested in buying? Tom ignored your gaze, with you and the boy in front of him he felt like a babysitter for teenagers.
“We need information, I hope you'll be able to help.” your partner said, showing his PD card, making the man detail the badge, as if he knew how to differentiate a fake from a real one.
“Thomas Wells…wait you said ‘we’?” that’s when he noticed you, showing your card to him, a little smirk appeared on his face.
“I always had a thing for women of power.” he told you, a first attempt to flirt and test you. Despite his beauty, he looked like the kind of person who liked to tease people. You had this feeling about him, and you weren’t very pleased.
“You don’t want to piss me off, man.” you replied, on the defensive, already he irritated you, your bitter response made him giggle amused.
“Oooh, you do have claws, huh? On the contrary. I’d love to see that.” he replied, getting distracted by you before Tom snapped his fingers in front of his face, telling him to behave and focus. You had to admit you didn’t expect to attract the attention of somebody, but maybe it was just him wanting to mess up with you. Other men already did it to you, wanting to be playful and teasing you to ease the atmosphere, wanting to appear charming with their sweet ways, just in order to sleep with you. No thanks, not again, your guard wouldn’t be defeated by a random punk porn stuff seller.
“Alright, what kind of information are you looking for? I got all kinds…” he chuckled, his tone lower though. You looked at him suspiciously, he indeed seemed to have connections in that dark world; after all, maybe he was a jerk, but a jerk with precious pieces of information. It was better for you to befriend him and keep him calm if you wanted to know more.
“You see, a lot of cases related to porn are popping out of nowhere lately, homicides, abductions, blackmails, etcetera. We just thought you already had experience with…this stuff, you know.” Tom explained, taking a porn tape in his hands. “Not that we’re speaking by stereotypes.” you cared to add, elbowing him as to intimate him to shut up since you saw kind of an offended frown in the face of the young man.
“I have nothing to do with this crap. Nothing, got it? I’m just here to sell.” the seller indeed said, in a severe tone and crossing his tattooed arms under his chest, making his leather t-shirt lightly squeak. You clicked your tongue, great, the only hope you had was getting vexed and about to refuse to help. However, the young man noticed your thoughtful gaze. “If you want my help, you better rub me up the right way.” he added proudly.
“If that’s about money, you can get your share if you help us.” instantly replied Tom, he had expected this situation. You detailed the seller, his curiosity was picked, not so much about money you thought..something else interested him and you will find out what.
“Now that we’re speaking…” he started saying, “Maybe I do know someone who can help you. I will escort you there, since it’s not so easy to arrive at his place. I guess you need some kind of guard who already knows the environment so you can peacefully investigate.” he proposed, you scoffed, clever guy.
“Who’s the man?” You asked, arching an eyebrow, and leaning on the counter, with renovated interest for the investigation and the seller’s motivations.
“His name is Pierre Beischel.” He replied, a grin forming on his face “A true asshole. I’m used to people with particular tastes, but believe me, this guy is another kind…” he said you noticed he took his pack of cigarettes, putting it in the back pocket of his pants, seems like that Beischel man able to make him nervous. “I finish in two hours. My name is Max, Max California baby” he stated confidently, here was your investigation truly starting with a strange companion and many dangers
Hello! May I request a Max x reader where Max helps the reader study for their mythology class and he rewards them with cuddles and or smut?
Hi dear! Sorry if it took so much, I was a little busy ^^’’.Sure thing, enjoy! (Oh btw, I imagined you having a skirt on, this is important for later ;D)
You are an excellent student, it’s easy for you to get good grades in your tests and exams, in every subject; every subject, except mythology. God knows how you struggle with it, so many characters, so many dates, so many cultures. You often find yourself alone in your room, your head bent over the books.
«Ugh, I can’t do that!» you exclaimed. Max’s head peeped out the other room, with a curious face. He approached you and sweetly rubbed your back and shoulders.
«What’s the matter, love?» he asked, lightly nipping your cheeks, and giggled. You snorted and showed him your thick mythology book. His smile vanished. «Oh.» he just said.
You felt a headache grow up and began massaging your temples. He looked at you with a softened smile.
«C’mon, c’mon, baby! You can do it!» he cheered you up, kissing you on your cheek. You looked at him with an annoyed gaze; you didn’t want encouragement, you wanted tons of pages memorized in your mind. And you hated it.
He didn’t lose his happiness, he hugged you and gave lots of kisses on your cheek.
«Okay, okay, chill!» he giggled. «Do you need help?»
«YES.» you exclaimed, making him laugh and squeeze you tight. Then, he sat next to you.
«Okay, let’s start then.». He grabbed your book. «Which topic do you struggle more with?». You remained thinking about it.
«Eros, I guess...» you replied, insecure; the topics you were struggling with were way too many, but you guessed you had to choose one. He smirked, you couldn’t choose a better topic to him, since he loved it. He even bought and read some novels about this god, so he knew something about.
«Oooh, juicy stuff, isn’t it?» he giggled, and read something on your book. «Let’s see...»
He began explaining to you about Eros, his history and the myths about him. His speech extended to sexuality in greek mythology, and how it was free of limits and important to the culture.
It took him some hours to make you fully understand your topics, and you attentively wrote down some note. The more he was talking, the more your love for him was growing. Soon you began focusing on his face and his particularities: his angelic blue/green eyes, his soft lips slowly moving and sometimes getting wet by his pink tongue; oh, you would pay gold to taste his mouth, and make him taste more of you...
«Honey, are you listening?» he called you, his pierced eyebrow raised. You woke up and giggled, roughly blushing; you couldn’t admit that you were fantasizing about him. But somehow, he understood anyway.
«I know I’m hot and you’re focusing on something else, darling...» he murmured, and approached you, massaging your breasts and nipping your neck. You blushed even more and damned him for having understood your arousal.
«But I have to finish my explanation...you want a good grade, don’t you?» he whispered again, biting your lobe, while one of his hands began to get down to your stomach, lower abdomen and almost arrived your pussy. You couldn’t keep a light moan and nod.
«Then let’s resume the lesson!» he exclaimed smiling, immediately on his seat, as nothing happened. You groaned and nodded again. After a while you repeated what you understood by listening to him; he seemed satisfied.
«Congrats, honey, you did it! You will surely get a good grade! You deserve it, after all...» he exclaimed again, hugging you.
«However...» he said, looking down.
«What?» you asked, «Something wrong?». He shook his head and looked at you with lust in his eyes.
«However...» he repeated, more secure, and smirked. He kneeled down, as you were still sitting, and put your legs on his shoulders. He started caressing your inner thighs, giving one of them a little kiss. «I think you deserve kind of a prize since I’m so proud of you.». He widened your legs more as he slid your panties, and touched your pussy. You flinched and blushed, embarrassed for how wet you already were, but he didn’t seem to mind it; instead, he appreciated it, and immediately began to lick you, and buried his mouth between your legs. You began to heavily breathe and tightened his hair in your hands, flipping back your head.
«M-Max..» you moaned. He purred as he heard your sounds, and licked you more, deepening his tongue into you more and more. You began to shake and moan louder; his arousal made him roughly tighten your thighs. His tongue repeatedly turned around your clit, and the more he went deeper, the more you moaned and trembled. The room was soon filled in your voice, as you dug your nails in his shoulders. He couldn’t hold in anymore and raised himself to reach your face, your heavy breath tickled his face. He crushed his lips on yours as he made you sat on your desk, your books fell on the ground. You two kissed passionately, and his tongue licked your lips, while he kept fingering you to keep you feel pleasure.
He was extremely aroused by your moans. You roamed your hands all over his body and ran on his belt, undoing it and his pants quickly.
«Aah...You’re quite hungry, aren’t you?» he purred, raising your skirt, and taking away your panties. You lowered his jeans and pants as you two resumed kissing. You rounded his neck with your arms and made him approach more. He entered you, and you two sighed in extreme pleasure. He soon began to thrust, passionately kissing and nipping your neck and shoulders as he undid your other clothes. You moaned his name more and more, you knew he went crazy for it; in fact, he increased his pace, growling into your ear and biting your earlobe. You wanted- no, needed- more of him, so you instinctively scratched his shoulders, sighing and moaning. He grabbed your wrists and increased his pace more, seductively looking at you. Every move of his was hypnotizing you.
«I-I’m-» you whispered, and almost yelled his name, reaching your orgasm. He came too, after some few thrusts more.
«Good job, baby...I’m proud of you..» he smiled, satisfied, and kissed your forehead. You smiled and hugged him.
