#descendents

⭒ Masterpost ⭒ 08/01/2026

⭒ Movies Masterlist

𐙚 Max Hatter

(Found here as of 08/06/2026)

𝑆𝑂𝑀𝐸 𝑃𝐸𝑂𝑃𝐿𝐸 𝑂𝑁 𝑇𝐼𝐾 𝑇𝑂𝐾 𝑆𝐴𝑊 𝑀𝑌 𝐹𝑅𝐴𝐺𝑅𝐴𝑁𝐶𝐸 𝑇𝑅𝐸𝑁𝐷 𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝐻𝐼𝑀

𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝑊𝐴𝑁𝑇𝐸𝐷 𝐴 𝐹𝐼𝐶 𝑆𝑂 𝐻𝐸𝑅𝐸 𝑊𝐸 𝐴𝑅𝐸 𝐼𝑇 𝑀𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇 𝐵𝐸 𝐻𝑂𝑅𝑅𝐼𝐵𝐿𝐸 𝐼'𝑀 𝑆𝑂𝑅𝑅𝑌 𝐿𝑂𝐿

The halls of Auradon Prep buzzed with the usual first-week energy-floating banners, students practicing spells between classes, and the faint sound of someone's enchanted lute playing in the distance. You adjusted the strap of your bag, the fabric of your off-the-shoulder dress shifting comfortably against your skin. As the daughter of a respected Auradon family with ties to old heroic lineages, you were used to the polished routine. Classes. Presentations. Keeping up appearances. But this Alchemy project was already testing your patience.

Professor Fizzlewick had paired everyone randomly. When he announced your name alongside Max Hatter's, the entire room had gone quiet for a beat before the whispers started.

Max leaned back in his chair across the room, that signature crooked hat tilted low over his lavender hair. His grin was pure trouble. "Oh great," he drawled loud enough for everyone to hear. "Paired up with a perfect little HK princess. This should be fun."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "Stfu, Hatter. Try not to blow up the lab this time."

He just laughed, the sound low and cocky, eyes lingering on you a second too long. The flirtation had been going on since the first day you'd bumped into him-literally-outside orientation. He was relentless. VK charm wrapped in chaos. You fired back every time, refusing to let him win. It was almost a game now.

After class, you met in the library to plan. He sprawled across the table like he owned it, sketching wild ideas for the presentation while you tried to keep things organized. "You know," he said at one point, tapping his quill against the paper, "we could skip the boring theory and just demonstrate something explosive. Live a little, princess."

You kicked his boot under the table. "We're doing it properly. No explosions. No detentions. Focus, villain boy."

He smirked, leaning closer. "You're cute when you're bossy."

The project stretched late into the evening. By the time you both stumbled back to your dorm-Professor Fizzlewick had given special permission for late work sessions-the hallway was empty. You unlocked your door, expecting him to drop his notes and leave.

He didn't.

Instead, Max followed you inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The room was dimly lit by a floating lantern, your bed neatly made with soft blankets. He stepped closer, voice dropping. "Your roommate's still at that study group, right?"

You nodded, suddenly very aware of how close he was. "Yeah. Why?"

He reached out, fingers brushing the strap of your dress. "Because I've been thinking about this since that first bump in the courtyard." His touch was light, almost reverent. "Tell me if you want me to stop. Anytime."

Your heart raced. You'd never done this before-not with anyone, let alone a VK like Max. The heat in your stomach was new, thrilling, a little scary. But the way he looked at you-like you were the only thing in his chaotic world-made you nod. "Don't stop."

He smiled, slow and genuine under the cockiness, and helped you out of the dress. His hands were gentle as the fabric slipped away, leaving you in your underthings. He kissed your shoulder, then your collarbone, murmuring, "You're stunning. You know that?"

You helped him with his jacket and shirt, fingers trembling a little. When you were both bare, he guided you back onto the bed, settling between your legs with that same flirty grin. "This better than studying for that presentation?"

You glared at him, opening your mouth to retort-something sharp and witty-but he ducked his head and buried himself between your thighs before you could speak.

The first stroke of his tongue stole your breath. He was *good* at this-devoted, almost worshipful. Slow circles at first, then firmer pressure, learning exactly what made your hips twitch and your fingers fist in his hair. You threw your head back against the pillows, a broken moan escaping as heat coiled tight in your core. Every lick, every gentle suck sent sparks through you. He hummed against you, the vibration making your toes curl.

"Max-" you gasped, thighs trembling around his shoulders.

He didn't stop. One hand held your hip steady while the other slid up your body, teasing. The pleasure built fast, overwhelming. When you came, it crashed over you in waves, your back arching, his name on your lips. He worked you through it, gentle until you were boneless and panting.

He kissed his way up your body, checking your face. "Still okay?"

You nodded, pulling him down for a kiss. "Yes. Please."

He settled over you, pinning you gently to the mattress. "You're gorgeous," he murmured, lining himself up. "Doing so good for me." He pushed in slowly, careful, watching your expression the whole time. The stretch burned at first, new and intense, but he stayed still, kissing your neck, whispering praise until you relaxed. Then he moved-deeper, harder, finding a rhythm that had you gasping and clutching his back.

He absolutely *demolished* you after that. Every thrust hit perfectly, the angle making stars burst behind your eyes. You lost track of time, of everything except the feel of him, the sounds he drew from you, the way his hands gripped your hips like he never wanted to let go. When you came again, he followed right after, burying his face in your neck with a groan.

The young members of the Descendents outside City Gardens, Trenton, New Jersey, August 4, 1985.

Milo Aukerman, Doug Carrion, Bill Stevenson and Ray Cooper

This lineup recorded the 1986 album Enjoy!