Max Mayfield Gif Novels & Stories

"It's weird, you know? Holidays without everyone. Feels like I'm missing the point." Max nodded, his expression softening. "I get it. My folks are fighting again, so I bailed. But hey, we're here. Might as well make it count." He leaned back on his elbows, firelight dancing across his face, highlighting the faint scar on his jaw from a bar fight years ago. Vulnerable, real, not the invincible guy she idolized.

My heels struck the dark gray carpet, sharp, three steps, five, then I turned into the mouth of the aisle leading to my team’s block and immediately saw the cause of the world’s collapsing peace. Max was standing beside one of my analysts holding a yellow sticky note in one hand and a marker in the other, glowing like he’d just been handed access to a miniature missile launcher. Today he was wearing a thin navy sweater, cream pants, and white sneakers that of course already had one gray scuff at the toe. His black hair was falling messily over his forehead. His blue eyes were bright, too bright, painfully like someone I did not want to think about.

Miller coming towards holding a crying Max. Oh no ....... Dun...dun..dun.    Kehlani whole look.

She looked at Little Bob and Mike, then handed the tablet to Wren to watch. “You two have got to be kidding me,” she said. “A freaking flying monkey? Max is just messing with you.” “How could he mess with us like that?” Little Bob asked. “You don’t know about Max’s hobby? He makes computer-animated short films and posts them online. He’s very good at it. Bob, did you see him take that memory card out of the car’s camera?” Lindsay asked. “Well, no, but I had no reason to doubt what he said,” Little Bob answered.

The others already had two rounds, we were still half the round. Near the flagpole, I catch a figure I don't want to see. Looking straight at me with a look too deep. I feel like I just want to plug those eyes in. What a teacher! Who else ..if not Mr. Harold! I'd better have to look at a sexy zombie rather than him! "Who with? With me?" Zetta asked and I pretended to vomit.

“I was only fibbing. I thought threatening to expose your identity would make you change your mind about working with me. I really don’t know anything aside from that you are American, and I don’t even have proof for that. It’s not true, is it?” I heard a slap and then another cry. “I’m sorry. Sorry. Please don’t kill me.” Elvis shouted, “Shut the fuck up!” In an instant, Max’s crying was muffled. I could picture him slapping his hands over his mouth. This image made me smile again.

JACKS’S POV As their eyes met in a brief, assessing glance, Jack felt a spark of tension, sensing a challenge from Max. "So, Max," Jack said, his voice casual, trying to mask the curiosity and interest. "What do you do?" Max smiled, his eyes glinting with amusement, as if he knew a secret that Jack didn’t know about. "I'm an artist," Max replied, his voice smooth and confident. "I own a gallery back home, and Elle has been helping me with some projects."

Despite being held at gunpoint and Max about to pull the trigger, Charmine merely smirked. “Before you pull the trigger, I hope you have a look at this first.” With that, she turned the tablet to show Max. On the screen was the video of Max having intercourse with the middle-aged woman. Though the middle-aged woman had loose fats all over, Max did not mind at all as he enjoyed himself thoroughly in the video. Max nearly barfed at the scene, his gaze heated and livid. “Charmine Jordan, delete that right away! Delete it! I’ll kill you now if you don’t!”

He had been a bit bitter with Grandma since two days ago when Marvel declared that she was his favorite between the two of them. “I am just stopping by to let you know the truck will be here soon. I was going to call a few warriors over to help unload. Since you’ve been out here ogling them again, are there any that caught your eye?” Max lifts an eyebrow at Grandma. I almost choked on my last gulp of lemonade. Grandma is narrowing her eyes at him, looking ready to pounce. “Maxwell, I don’t appreciate your tone.” “Name’s not f*****g Maxwell,” he huffs.

Just from the letter, I already know that I have important things, but I don't know if I should go ahead. "I'll leave you alone." Bruno doesn't wait for me to answer him, he just turns around and walks out of the room. “Shit.” I mumble, before deciding to watch the file on the pen drive. There is a MacBook on the table, ready to use. I take a deep breath and connect the pen drive. A folder with a single file opens. I click and a video appears. In fact, Max appears. He looks thinner and older, like someone who was really sick. He looks like a wrinkled fruit. I never imagined I would see him looking so deplorable. Max was full of life. He was in perfect health the last time I saw him. How can