#blood sucking bastards

[chronically-ghosted]

Third Base.

rating: 18+, explicit

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 9K

summary: after the last session went awry, you and max don't know how to be around each other. two months after a blow out fight, max catches you in the parking lot and decides it's time to talk.

warnings: angst, is that plot i smell? period sex (oral), impossible positions but he has super strength and doesn't breathe so shut up, semi-public sex, car sex, some briefly scary imagery (it's a dream), monsterfucking, mentions of a car accident and injuries related, arguing, max being a dick

a/n: MASSIVE shoutout to @jupiter-soups , @beardedjoel , @gasolinerainbowpuddles , @covetyou and @huffle-punk for giving me their blessing to do a vampire + period sex fic. The discord ladies really came in clutch here 👌i hope this makes you as horny as that thread made me

i wanted to get this out by halloween, but that didn't fucking happen so here's a fic that mentions halloween as a plot device. fun fact: orgasms can bring on your period early so no it’s not your 🐈 that’s sore it’s your uterus lining shuffling off

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You’re warm. Everything is warm. You’ve sunk beneath a fresh layer of volcanic ash, heartbeat pulsing with the lazy roll of molten lava at the heart of the mountain. Hands outstretched, you can’t find the edge of the mattress because there isn’t one. 

There is only warmth and rocking, gentle waves.

There is only this.

There is only him. 

Shoulders hunched between your legs, his tongue is a hard muscle, leverage against which you grind and shift and when you find that spot together, you throb in sync with the rush of blood to your cunt and sink a little deeper into the endless sheets that flutter against your skin like paper in the wind. 

Your lips form the shape of his name but in the sigh that leaves your mouth, you can’t be sure if you called out to him or if everything coherent had been swallowed up in a cry of listless pleasure. But he responds all the same. The vibrations in his chest between your thighs, his tongue wrapped around your clit, nearly tear you over the edge that very second – you cry out, not wanting this to end, not wanting to leave this hearth of him, folded over you as if you were made of fine ceramic and he was a fiery kiln. You arch, your release dangerously close, and his grip around your thighs tightens, tightens, pulling you deeper down into his face, his nose, that wicked, wicked tongue, and his grip tightens and it hurts. His fingers, his nails, pinch down into you, your flesh swells between his knuckles as if he’s going to tear straight through your skin, your muscles, your bones – and you yelp. 

It’s not fun any more.

You struggle, but he’s on you too tight, a riptide sucking you under. You try and kick him off, push him off with your hands but it’s no use.

Everything is cold and metal and it hurts and you’re begging him to let you go, let you live, when those fangs, as sharp and jagged as steak knives, suddenly embed themselves in your thigh. Your hips jerk with the force of it, with the agony as he slices your femoral artery and drinks deep. And then he bites your other thigh, tearing through your flesh, turning the cradle of your thighs into dripping viscera. 

Max, you think you beg, the fight all but drained out of you as your blood flows freely from between his fingers, from the gashes in your thighs, your throat, your wrists. He’s torn out chunks of you and swallowed them whole. 

Max.

The creature lifts its head, its eyes blood-red, pupils black as the darkest night, mouth twisted and wrenched open screaming, four glistening bone-white fangs, dripping blood, your blood, your life, your flesh. Begging won’t save you now. 

It snarls, the sound pinching off like a dying woman’s scream, inch-long talons tearing up your hips as it crawls forward, crawls into your throat and just before it delivers the killing bite, it whispers:

You asked for this.

The first thing you see when you jerk out of the nightmare is the crease of your pillow, looking up at it from the plush of your mattress. Your cheek smushed into your blue sheets, duvet tangled between your legs, the horror of the nightmare still pressed into the corners of your brain like a tacky, sticky film, you can’t quite understand what you’re looking at. The adrenaline is fast in your blood, heart pounding, your unconscious mind unable to determine what is real and what is not, safety or danger, and your fingers dig into your sleep shorts, arms tucked up underneath you. You blink twice, the headache from yesterday returning, your swollen, black eye almost immediately painful, and then you realize the pounding you hear is not your final heartbeats, but someone at your door. 

That buzzing is not the last conscious thoughts in your head fizzling out, but your phone on silent, humming incessantly. Groaning from the pins and needles that shoot up your arm after having slept on it all night, you flop onto your back, your other wrist twinging painfully in its flesh-colored wrap, as you crawl to the edge of your bed – which is thankfully in sight. You can’t pick up your phone with your dead-fish arm and your twisted wrist so you answer the call without looking and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” 

“Why aren’t you at work?” His voice is clipped, short, pissed. As if he was your actual boss and not the sales manager, while you worked in legal. After the dream, it immediately sets you on edge. Every major part of you is sore and hurts, either from the accident, or sleeping so hard you figured you briefly went into a coma. 

“What’s it matter to you? I called my department and told them I’d be out.”

“Yeah, and I had to find out from Tim.” The pounding from down the hall gets louder and suddenly you connect the two. It should be illegal to be this furious minutes after waking up. “Open the door,” he snaps into the silence over the phone. 

“Are you fucking serious right now? You’re at my apartment?”

“Yes, now open the fucking door.” 

You chew your lip because you genuinely do not want to see him right now. There’s a reason you called Tim to pick you up after someone T-boned the back of your car yesterday evening and the plausible excuse is that he lives in the same apartment complex as you. 

“Open the door right now or I swear –,”

“Alright, jesus. Gimme a fuckin’ –,”

You shrug on your cardigan, hissing as you bend your shoulder. 

“What was that?” You swear his voice takes on an edge, catching on something and tearing just enough to let something vulnerable bleed through. 

“It’s nothing – I –,” you twist your other shoulder into the arm of the cardigan, the phone pinched up against your ear. “Jesus – okay, fuck this, just stay there and don’t break down my door.”

You pound the red button with your thumb and launch your phone onto your bed before you limp lightly down the hall, the weight on your right ankle just a little less than on your left. It’s half a second difference in your regular gait, but something tells you he’ll know.

He’s across your threshold before you have the door fully open, glaring around your dark apartment as if it personally had a hand in keeping him outside in the hallway. There’s something frenetic in the way he moves, in the way he stands, even if he is completely still. It’s the same sort of wired energy that is usually reserved for end-of-quarter deadlines, isolated to sustained knee bouncing or wearing out the spring of a pen with one too many clicks. Max is . . . uneasy.

“Well?” He rounds on you, hands on his hips, as if you’d just been caught pilfering through the company supply cabinet for ink cartridges to sniff and get high. You’d never been on the receiving end of Max’s bad temper before – in fact, you’d been the solution to it for quite some time now. You’d seen him go off on a vendor that screwed up an order or chew out the competition, but not this. Not that tense jaw that can’t find a place to settle, eyes narrowed in warning. Don’t test me. 

“Well, what?” Maybe you should have changed out of your pastel blue pajamas before coming to face your co-worker/occasional sex-fiend/boyfriend(?) but it’s too late now. You try to stand as tall as you can, arms crossed. 

“You wanna tell me why you weren’t at work today and I had to hear from Tim – fucking sandwich-eating, wormy-mustache, sword-dildo Tim – that you’d been in a goddamn car accident.”

“It was minor and he lives in my building,” you respond, chin high.

His eyebrows arch as his mouth twists indignantly. “So minor your car wasn’t drivable?”

Point 1 for Max. You bristle, fighting the heat on your cheeks. “It was just easier to call him. He picked me up, dropped me off with some painkillers and some juice, and left. I didn’t fuck him if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

He picks up on a thread you didn’t expect him to follow. “He gave you . . . juice?” 

“Yes. His sister is a nurse and it was something about the adrenaline and sugar in orange juice – and I don’t know – it was comforting, at the time.”

“Comforting?” He asks like it’s a foreign concept. Something alien and unnatural. “What, like he gave you a hug or something?”

Your stomach turns on something sour. “Sure, Max, yeah. He could see I was upset and he did the terrible, horrible thing of giving me a hug when he saw I was in pain.”

“So was it a minor accident or not?” He takes a step forward and you remember how much bigger he is than you. How wide his hands are. “Fuck, can you turn on a light? I’m fucking straining to see anything.”

The migraine had set in moments after you closed the door behind Tim and like a creature retreating to lick their wounds, you shut off every single light in your apartment and close the blinds tight. You stick a comment about vampire sight up between your teeth and switch on the lamp by your couch. 

You catch a glimpse of that pretty face cut with sharp, angry lines and flared nostrils, before it flickers, fades out when he spots the black eye, the wrist splint you forget to hide with your sleeve before it’s too late, the way you hold your weight off your sensitive ankle. 

For some reason, you can’t look him in the eyes, so you watch as the taut line of his shoulders deflates, his wide hands with his thick fingers slide bonelessly off his hips, how he stands up right instead of that aggressive forward lean, reserved only for what you thought he saw as enemies.

He swallows whatever was sitting behind his teeth and stares.

Where he had been even temporarily vulnerable with you days ago, it’s your turn to shy away, hiding your tender spots. 

Guilt washes up to your eyeballs the longer he stares silently, taking in every bruise and bump. You hate the fact you feel guilty, and you hate that you don’t know where the guilt comes from or why it sits so heavy in your chest. 

The truth of the matter is you did think about calling him. In fact, he was the first name you pulled up on your now cracked phone, but sitting on a curb outside of a gas station as a tow truck came to take your car away, you scrolled down past him. 

The truth of the matter is Max hasn’t been back in your apartment since the night you went to second base and he bit you on your tit. In fact, he’s been avoiding you in the office for days now. When he wouldn’t meet your eyes over the coffee machine, it became easier and easier to wonder if this was the same man who set out all those candles for you, who put down all of those insane precautions to keep himself from going too far, who couldn’t help but vibrate with pleasure as he drank from you. First base had gone over without a hitch, but something went wrong that night and he’d sooner let the relationship fizzle out than talk about it. 

The following shower that night had been awkward and uncomfortable, too close and the steam too hot. He left shortly there after, only a handful of mumbled words exchanged, and he hadn’t come back.

So, maybe, sitting there, your head aching, your wrist pinching, you wanted him to feel as abandoned as you had.

“I’m a little . . . banged up, alright?” Your fingertips brush the edges of the Ace bandage around your palm when your fingers curl and uncurl, your head tilted just off center as if you could hide the swelling from him. “Nothing that a few days of rest can’t fix, so you really didn’t need to come over.”

“Rest and juice, right?” The look in his eyes is raw, rubbed down into nothingness, blackness, totality. 

“Oh, fuck off,” you snap, “it wasn’t like that and you fucking know it.” 

His head tilts as if considering your words, or considering something else, and by the time you open your eyes in a millisecond blink, he’s got your chin in his palm, his fingers curled up your cheek, thumb firmly pressed into your jaw. Dark eyes roving, he’s inspecting every cut, every bruise, every hair out of place. 

Irate at the hot flush low in your stomach at the way he grips you, you push against his chest, yowling out some disgruntled noise, but that only makes him squeeze you tighter. He doesn’t even look you in the eye. 

“I’ve healed much worse than this,” he murmurs, breath smelling deliciously of mint and not a hint of anything metallic. “Especially on you.” 

His thumb brushes dangerously close to the rim of your purple and green eye and while even the slightest touch stings, it’s nothing compared to the bite of pain his words and soft tone inflict. You give him one more good shove and he backs off, thumb swiping briefly against your chin. His mouth is a straight line when he finally meets your glare. 

“I didn’t call you because I didn’t think you gave a shit, Max.” You’ve been in tense business negotiations all your adult life so standing your ground and not crying is something that has become second nature to you. And yet, your eyes grow hot and tight all the same. You’re not crying, but your body is remembering how good it feels to do so. “Ever since that night, you’ve been acting like I’m diseased or something. You made it pretty clear we’re not actually dating, so I called Tim because it was the path of least resistance. I was tired and I hurt and I didn’t want anything complicated. And I didn’t tell you because quite frankly I didn’t think you’d notice I wasn’t there unless the breeze blew the wrong way and your dick got hard.” Every unanswered text and call straight to voicemail over the last two weeks flashes in your mind and your wrist twinges painfully as you gesture to your bedroom. “Because that’s what this is, right? Just a good fuck? A good time? For the record, you didn’t ruin that lingerie set. I put it on cold in the washer and the blood came right out, okay? Everything is totally fucking fine.”

You don’t realize how loud you’d gotten until your apartment rings with silence. It is the absence of noise, of only one set of lungs in use, that makes it so loud. 

Max’s jaw still hasn’t found a place to settle, to calm himself. He purses his lips as his bottom teeth grind against the top. His eyes are unreadable, black coals in his head, instead of that gooey warmth you swear you’ve only seen in your direction. He swallows once before opening his mouth.

“So then, do you want me to fix you? Just so we can get back to fucking and I can get what I came here for.”

Soft. Quiet. A rattlesnake you don’t see coming until its fangs are in your foot, pumping you full of poison. 

“Get the fuck out of my house. Right now. Leave.”

As if mocking you, he walks out the front door. He could be out and gone before you draw your next breath, but he chooses to click his fucking Armani leather shoes across your tile, open the door – the knob demonstrably small in his massive hand – and slam shut so hard the painting on the wall shudders. 

If the shower had been a separation by omission, this had been the real thing.

The heat behind your eyes becomes unbearable, sharp, painful as you begin to choke on everything you didn’t say to him lodged in your throat. Vision blurry, you yank your curtains close and flip the light switch, plunging the apartment back into darkness. 

It’s not until you’re curled up on your side in bed, duvet over your head, that the tears come. They’re silent, you’ve only ever known how to cry silently, but they fall fast, dripping off your nose. You squeeze your eyes shut and your black eye throbs, a thunderbolt in a storm. You cry out and touching it makes it worse and you cry because it hurts and you cry because you’re pathetic and you cry because, worst of all, you didn’t make Max realize what a fucking asshole he is.

It’s not until you wake up at two in the morning, suddenly and without a descent, that you realize Max walked into your apartment without a jacket on, his sleeves rolled up and his tie loose. As if he had heard the news and immediately left the office to come to you.

Days pass. And days turn into weeks. It’s two months later and you haven’t heard a word from him.

Everyone at the office has been very considerate about your injuries – holding doors for you as you hobbled through them, your team taking on more client-facing calls while your eye healed, typing up the last bits of the reports when your wrist started to ache. For a company that employed literal hell-spawn, you’d been rather touched by the kindness everyone showed you. 

Even Tim. Who offered, after clarifying he definitely wasn’t hitting on you (if only because he feared the legal repercussions you could bring down on him like a smiting hammer) to drive you home while your car got fixed. Those nights when Evan sat in the back because they were headed to a DnD session afterwards were always a little awkward. 

Everyone helped out, except one person. A significant person that made your chest twinge every time you saw his door close seconds after you came into the breakroom. You could hear your sister’s scolding voice now: never fuck where you eat.

For sleeping with a vampire, you supposed that statement was doubly true. 

As the world turned towards winter, night came early and stayed longer, eager for mischief. The air grew thin, cold, trees sagging, turning brown, and molting. There’s a smell to the air that usually excites you, usually makes you smile and yearn for your couch and a long movie night. But not this time.

Halloween falls on a Monday this year and given the majority of its workforce still remember when it was called Samhain, it’s a company holiday. Ahead of a long weekend, this late, the office is empty. With nothing (and no one) to greet you at home, you stay until it could be officially counted as pathetic to keep working in an empty and dark building, before powering down your laptop, gathering your things for what you foresee as just a long working weekend, and locking your office for the night. 

Paper bats hung from the ceiling, with orange and black table clothes thrown over tables in the break room. Cardboard witches and zombies grinned wickedly from the dark corners, woolen webs with freakishly large spiders hiding near the ceiling. The office manager, Carla, has really outdone herself this year, you think, as you unplug the rows of purple and orange lights looping around the ceiling tiles. With your leftover lasagna from Amanda (who insisted you still needed someone to make you dinner), you flick off any remaining lights, the red exit signs guiding you out in the dark. 

His office door is open, not unheard of but not common. 

The room is dark, so maybe he left early and just forgot to lock up. Your chest tightens at the thought that he ran out of there in a hurry because he was eager to meet up with someone, a pretty someone who looked great in a set of heels and had a fang fetish. You swallow; one of a dozen scenarios you’ve tortured yourself with over the past few weeks, particularly painful. 

It’s strange, to go on and live your life when there has been a fundamental and irrevocable change, when there is nothing where there once was something – an outline almost visible as though the air itself was trying desperately to remember, to hold on. 

Your eyes grow hot and you blame it on season allergies when you wipe your eyes with your palm. You blame it on the steady headache you’ve had all day. You blame it on the irritability that’s been rubbing you the wrong way for days now. You blame it on the lack of sleep you can never seem to get enough of. Fuck, is it possible to drink yourself into a wine coma? You’d really love to find out. 

Without the sun, the wind is particularly chilling, curling over the collar of your jacket and pinching the back of your neck. Your feet ache, the plastic holding the lasagna is starting to sweat, and you’re pretty sure you’ve got a run in your nylons. Fighting back a shiver, you unlock your car and toss everything into the passenger’s seat when you hear your name. 

For a fraction of a second, you think it’s the wind. That your mind has been circling its own loneliness for so long, it’s taking pity on your pathetic ass and imagining comfort out of thin air. But you hear it again, stilling with one foot in your car, hand on the door. Your name – quiet, reserved, purposeful. 

So unlike him. 

“Can we talk?”

Just get in the car. Just get in, turn it on, and drive. Your fingers bite into the cold metal. 

“Max, it’s late and I’m exhausted –,” 

“Then I’ll make it quick.” 

His long coat flutters around his knees in the uneasy breeze, his hands in his pockets. You can’t really see his face in the shadows between the streetlights. 

You haven’t moved. One foot on the floor of your car, hand on the door. He sighs and tugs at the tie around his neck. You wait.

“You said you’d be quick –,”

His jaw ticks, finds your gaze for the first time. “It’s fucking freezing out – can I at least sit in the car?”

“There’s lasagna.” Max had the unique capacity to trigger your most basic instincts seemingly out of nowhere. Where did he get off demanding anything? You want to stomp your foot and stick your tongue out. “I mean, you have to move the lasagna . . . and some other stuff.”  

Briefly thankful for the dark shadows to hide your childish blush, you plop into the car seat without looking back at him. His figure moves around the car and you make the express decision to make him deal with all your shit in the passenger's seat. But to your enormous surprise (and swelling embarrassment), he gathers your briefcase, the plastic container, and your empty coffee mug without comment and puts them gently in the backseat – without flinging them or sighing like he just moved mountains. 

Your fingers curl over the stiff steering wheel as he folds his long legs into the car, fighting with his jacket, and grunting a bit when his knees press up against the dashboard. The click as his seat slides backwards to make room is painfully audible. 

The overhead light in your car fades long before either of you say anything. 

“Max, it’s cold and I wanna go home–,”

“Okay, okay, sorry – fuck –,” he twists the coat tighter around his chest, sliding low in his seat like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Okay. It’s just . . . this isn’t easy and I don’t –,” 

“You don’t what?” You snap, rounding on him, patience finally running out. “You don’t know how to apologize for being a fucking asshole?” 

“No – I mean, yeah, but –,” 

“So you admit it! You were being a shit and you know it!” 

“It’s not like it’s that fucking simple–,” 

“Yeah, it is. It really is, Max. You got scared the last time we were together and you took it out on me the first chance you got.” 

He shoves his palms into his eyes. “Okay, yes, I was scared, but not then. I mean, it freaked me out a little bit, but . . . it wasn’t the bite that got to me.” 

“Yeah? Then what was?” 

He huffs, lowering his hands slowly, his shoulders curving in as his hands drop into his lap. “You told Tim and not me. And,” he adds quickly at your rapidly reddening face, “and for about fifteen minutes, I didn’t know if you were alive or not. I just heard ‘not at work’ and ‘car accident’ and I assumed the worst . . . and because of the way I’ve treated this relationship, you didn’t think about calling me just to let me know you were okay. And . . . I fucked up.” 

You blink. Slowly, then several times rapidly. “You were scared that you lost me.” 

That pained grimace deepens and he scowls at you like you called his Tonka Toy Truck stupid. 

“Don’t say it like that. It makes me sound pathetic.” 

You scowl back. “Would it kill you to be genuine for two seconds? It’s okay to have feelings. Even ones about me.” 

“Of course I have feelings for you,” he rolls his eyes and you want to bite him on his finger. “Why would I put us both through the fucking ringer just so I can bite you if I didn’t care about you?”

“So then if you can easily admit that you have feelings for me, why were you so fucking awkward that last time? Why didn’t you answer your phone? Why were you so fucking mean to me at my apartment?”

“Because I don’t wanna keep this a secret anymore!” 

Your car feels abnormally cramped as all the air is sucked out with a vacuum. But, as a vampire, maybe that’s not a problem for him. 

Or maybe if he stops, he’ll never be able to get it all out. 

His eyes are wide, his broad shoulders pressed up against the door, as if he is trying to escape the confines of the car, or look at you straight on. 

“I want to be the one you call when there’s a problem, not fucking Tim. I want you to know I’d never, ever hurt you, no matter how blood drunk I was. I want . . . I want to stay overnight at your apartment and I want . . .” he trails off, swallowing over the words that are seemingly choking him. “I want to be your . . .”

He murmurs something and you assume you didn’t hear him because you are simply too shocked.

“What?”

Max groans and puts his hands over his face as if he is being physically tortured. 

“I wanna be your boyfriend. In public. At work. All the time. I wanna . . . I wanna tell people I’m your boyfriend and you’re my girlfriend.” He makes a face and sticks his tongue out, grimacing. “And I wanna fucking graduate kindergarten apparently. Get married on the blacktop. Blegh.”  

As he wrestles with the apparently juvenile terms, you fall into speechlessness. There’s a dozen emotions flashing through you like fire embers: relief, anger, embarrassment, curiosity, joy, sadness –

Desire.

Watching his tongue roll around in his mouth, even comically, reminds you exactly why you entered into this relationship/not relationship with him in the first place. 

Mouth finally closing, he lifts his gaze to you, chin tilted down, and you can almost imagine the ears turned back and low on his head.

“And I know that’s not what you want. I didn’t want to say anything but then it all just fucking snowballed, and it’s been killing me not being around you, so when I saw you leave tonight, I thought–,”

“Why do you think that’s not what I want?” Your heart rises, just a bit, in your chest, and you feel it tap against your breastbone. “Why wouldn’t I want to go public?”

Max watches you cautiously, eyebrows drawn down. “HR nightmare for one. But in the beginning, since we didn’t, you know, go public then, I just figured . . . Figured you’d want to end it before calling me your boyfriend.”

“But you didn’t want that either, in the beginning, right?”

He nods, suspicious.

“But things changed for you. And . . . you know . . . things might have changed for me too.”

God, maybe your mom can take pictures of you two together at the kindergarten graduation ceremony. Why is this so fucking hard to talk about? 

Max blinks at you, his turn to be struck silent. 

“So, theoretically, if I stop being an asshole and you call me for all your rides home, I can call you my girlfriend to Tim’s stupid face?” 

“If you’re ready to deal with the HR nightmare,” you say, meaning that and a handful of other things. If you really want to deal with all of that for me.

You swear Max’s eyes twinkle gold for a second. 

“Um, yeah. I mean, I am if you are.”

“I am if you are.”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.” 

A grin sparks across his face, the tension leaving his jaw. Joy crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

“Then I wanna kiss you first.”

Your heart is now knocking between your breastbone and your throat. You nod, swallowing nerves. 

“Finally, something we agree on.” 

For the first time in your memory, Max moves slow, hesitantly, but encouraged by the smirk on your lips. The car still feels small, but now in the best way possible. He leans forward, the console in the middle squeaking as you press your forearm against it, his hand sinking into your hair, nails against your scalp. 

You smell mint, coffee, and finally, something coppery. 

You lick your lip a second before his slot against yours. 

It’s chaste, as chaste as kissing Max Phillips can be. A thoughtful moment of rediscovery, of possibility, of relieved familiarity. He knows just how to turn his head, to press into you, to make you sigh into his mouth.

“Am I forgiven?” He teases, his voice soft and quiet, eyes half open as they take in every pore and feature of your face.

Desire, buttery and warm, melts into sticky arousal between your thighs. The fingers on his chest dig in as you grasp at the material to drag him closer. 

“I think you owe me a base, slugger.”

Max’s eyes widen. “Here? Now?”

“I’m pretty sure the office building is locked up, so unless you have another suggestion–,” 

He groans, hands immediately tugging around your knees to pull you literally out of your seat and into his lap. He grinds your hips down against him, as if he couldn’t help it, and you gasp, embarrassingly turned on from his hands on your hips and his sudden show of strength. That goddamn vampire strength. 

“I missed you so much, you fucking freak,” he mouths against your cheek, his hand squeezing your thigh once before curling around your neck and yanking you into his hot mouth. Your muffled noise comes across as protest and surprise, but he keeps you pinned, his lips and teeth and tongue fighting over themselves to get to your skin first.  “I’ll give you any base you fucking want, but I wanna neck in this car for a bit.”

You nod, quelling the flush of heat between your thighs and the subsequent whimper by burying your hands under his jacket, under his blazer, and tugging his shirt out from his waistband. His skin is cold, despite three layers of clothing and a heated seat. 

Max grunts as you palm his stomach, muscles tightening, and he dips his mouth to your ear, your cheek, your neck. The brush of teeth against your hammering pulse point carries only the threat of pain. His tongue circles your vein like a bullseye. 

His fingers knotted in your hair, Max rolls his hips once, breaking off the kiss to watch the shiver go through you and end in a subtle moan that has you knocking your forehead into his shoulder. 

He mouths your ear, that soft skin just below it, hands rubbing up your hips and inching your skirt up your thighs. 

“Are you sure you want it here?” His words are as gentle as his lips — which is to say not at all. He roughly captures your mouth again before you can answer and sucks your bottom lip between his teeth as if he can bleed the answer from you.

He’s kissing you so hard, your back nudges the dashboard. You respond in retaliation; swirl his tongue with yours like a goddamn preview, hands low on his groin as you push him back. 

“Yes,” you murmur against his mouth. “Yes, Max, please. Here.”

“Then we’re moving the fucking lasagna again.” 

He twists you as he opens the car door, and immediately the wet patch between your thighs is slapped by the cold air. You stumble, shuddering, your nipples tightening in the chilly air. But he’s already knocking everything on the back seat to the floor. Grabbing you and guiding you by your hips to lay back against the pleather and spreading your knees with the brush of his thumbs, his eyes darken as if he can see through your skirt and nylons. Like he can hear your cunt throb for him.

He hovers over you, his Armani fucking shoes hanging off the seat as he kneels on the seat, seemingly struck silent by the sight of you, even with all your clothes on. 

“Max,” you say against the swelling in your chest, “you can bite my calf if biting near my pussy is too much.”

Just the mention of that wet, warm place he is so ridiculously fond of has drawn his attention back from his distant thoughts. 

“So I can’t eat your pussy after I eat your pussy?”

“If you think you can handle it,” you nudge at his elbow with your toes, “go for it.”

Over his shoulder, you can see the wind tug on his jacket, hear it ghost over the treetops, but with his thick, broad body over you, you feel nothing but warm. Max unbuttons his collar and slides his already loose tie from around his neck. He tickles your nose with it before dropping it onto the floor. 

“Leaving this within reach in case you need to scream into something, okay?”

You roll your eyes, flushed hot at the idea that you’re about to have semi-public sex. “You’ve been gone for a while. Maybe you’ve lost your touch.”

Something in his eyes grows dark, sharp, and his chin tilts just slightly. 

“I guess you’ll have to judge that for yourself.” He pushes up your shirt to your throat, exposing your white linen bra (that’s what you get for assuming your sex life was over) and your twitching stomach to his hot, wandering gaze. Before you can pretend to protest being cold, he drops his mouth to the swell of your breast and teases your nipple with his teeth. “You tell me if I’ve lost my touch.”

Immediately, a full body shiver radiates from where his lips suck and you stretch out against the leather, eyes fluttering open and shut. He hasn’t earned a moan yet, a fact he seems acutely aware of when his eyes flick up to watch your face as he palms your other breast. He digs one finger over the cup, curling over the material and grazing your nipple with his nail, when you shake your head. 

“Too public,” you breathe, as you wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him against you because you want to feel how much this affects him too. “Someone could see.”

“But you want me to eat you out? That’s not too public?” He grins as he tucks his face into your neck, lazily rolling his hips because he knows that’s exactly what you want. 

“Just stick your head up my skirt.”

He stills, teeth ghosting your skin. “Yeah?”

You feel him twitch against your thigh and you have to remind yourself not to ask him to full out fuck you in the backseat of your car. You nod, your chin ruffling his hair. His grip on your ribcage tightens, an errant thumb swiping the underside of your breast, as he lets out a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan.

“Have I told you you’re a fucking freak and how much I love it?”

Your toes curl in your shoes, heart in your ears, and blood hot under your skin. Just as he moves to shuffle back, you cup the back of his neck, turning your teeth and lips to his ear, the hairs there as soft as peach fuzz.

“No. I’m a monsterfucker.”

The sound that escapes him is no longer human, deep, jagged, a warning cry to hunted prey, and you feel just a prick of fangs against your neck. Immediately that rush of endorphins bows your back, a Pavlovian response to be fucked so good over and over again, and you keen into his chest. 

“Max, baby, please–,”

Your cunt actually aches. 

Max shoves himself away from you, yanking off his coat and suit jacket in one motion, and he actually lets them fall to the concrete parking lot. Before his sleeve is all the way out, he curls over you, one hand shoving up your skirt, and the other snagging the front of your nylons. His grip pinches the coarse hairs and your cunt involuntarily clenches as he peels the nylons over your hips and your knees with one hand. To get them completely off, you’d have to stretch out your legs, so he shoves your nylons to your ankles, before grabbing the backs of your thighs and thrusting you up the seat. Your head knocks against the car door, but he doesn’t seem to care – and neither do you. 

The back seat of your ford is not meant for two people, much less two people hellbent on oral sex. And yet . . .

He shoves one knee under your low spine, lifting your hips up and you acquiesce – tightening your muscles to keep the position that nearly folds you in half, but he shakes his head.

“I don’t need to breathe, honey,” he purrs into your thigh and takes your knee around the back of his head, and then does the same to the other. The height gives you enough leverage to balance against the roof of the car, giving your weight onto his shoulders, and your cunt exactly where he wants it. 

“That’s it, pretty girl. Now, let me eat.” He sticks out his tongue, flat against his chin. 

He clutches your hips and tugs you closer, right into his waiting muscle. 

Your spine arches even further off the seat when he takes advantage of the position and licks you from the curve of your ass to your clit. He catches the dripping wetness in his mouth, using it to massage that bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, his fingers firm against your hip. Any more pressure and he’ll bruise you. Any more after that and he’ll crush your hipbones. 

Your hips thrust weakly, thighs squeezing his head, as he forcibly reminds you that he hadn’t lost his touch, with an additional reminder that no one else touches you like he does. No one. Not a living soul or otherwise.

A side lick to your clit and you bite your lip, eyes shut, your hands above your head to find leverage. You push back against him and he groans into your pussy, aquiline nose breathing harshly into your damp curls. 

“Fuck, Max – yes, right there – oh god –,”

That soft teasing feeling that makes your hips cant forward with a sudden desperate need expands with every swipe of your tongue. 

He’s never going to let you live it down if you come this fast. 

“M-Max,” 

He opens his jaw more, dropping his mouth to your exposed hole and licking so deep inside with a curled tongue, your thighs start to shake. You gasp, head lifting forward before dropping back, as he fucks you with his tongue. You want to ride his face. 

And then Max lets out a grunt, shifting underneath you, his gaze flicking up to yours. With a hand on your knee as he practically hangs you upside down, he pulls back.

“You taste different.” 

It takes you a second to realize he’s said something coherent. “W-what?” 

He licks his lips, smeared with a wetness that makes the lower half of his face shine in the murky street lights. He licks you again as if to make sure. 

“Your taste . . . your cunt, it’s . . .”

Max’s eyes widen slightly like a wolf catching the scent of a deer. 

“Hold on, baby, I gotta try something.” 

Without warning, he plunges two fingers inside of you and sucks on your clit. He times his sucks with the rapid pump of his fingers and you’re at your peak in seconds. Your thighs shake, your cunt tightens, the sudden ascent overwhelming and intense, and with a tap against that spot inside you he’s forever marked as his own, you flatten against the seat, as everything inside you bursts, wet and bright, into his waiting mouth. His eyes flutter at the taste as it drips out of you, corners of his mouth smeared with your release. 

Max slowly slides his fingers out of you, watching you with apparent curiosity, pride evident in his eyes, and immediately your cunt aches, as if he had just given you three orgasms instead of one. There’s a low throb at the crux of your thighs and you groan, the pain only dull. 

But he doesn’t seem to notice. He nudges your thighs back from his ears, opening up you just a bit before he tucks his tongue into you again. The throb, alongside the still settling waves of your orgasm, wants you to push him away, but it’s not overstimulation. After being with Max for so long, you knew what overstimulation felt like and this is not it. 

“Max, c’mon, give me a second — fuck,”

Your eyes widen as you feel something wet trickle out of you and into his mouth, his eyes fixated on you. His grip around your waist pulls you closer to his chest. 

You watch each other the second you realize what’s just happened.

He leans back and there’s blood on his bottom lip.

Embarrassment scorches through your body and all the shitty feelings you had all week suddenly identify themselves as symptoms of PMS. Fuck. 

You immediately push on him, trying to de-tangle yourself from his shoulders, but he shakes his head.

“You wanted me to drink your blood, right? Third base? Well, now we don’t have to worry about where to bite you.” 

“But Max,” you struggle, working to sit up right but he won’t let your legs go. In fact, his grip turns rougher and you feel his fingers crush into your hip bones, his other hand pinning your knee to the back of his neck. “Max, c’mon, you don’t have to do that. This is silly and –,”

His wide palm smooths over your knee, like he’s trying to settle a frightened cat. 

“Who’s scared of genuine feelings now?” He murmurs. 

Only Max Phillips can go soft and sweet with your cunt inches from his face. Your apparently bleeding cunt. 

His hand moves from your knee, down your thigh and over your hip, before making the reverse trail, just as slow, just as comforting, while his gaze never leaves yours. You swallow something harsh in your throat, as your lower pelvis starts to ache. 

“The last thing I want is to hurt you, but I’ve heard that orgasms can actually help with cramps.” Max says softly. This isn’t a ploy to get (further) into your pants. He’s being genuinely – really, seriously, genuine. Your heart beats just as hard as the cramps as they settle. 

“What woman told you that?” 

Max huffs out a laugh, turning his head to nuzzle your thigh. “I was lonely without you and had to make do . . . so I befriended Carla and her gang.”

“The office manager?” You gape at him.

“They all tried to set me up with their daughters,” he chuckles, his hands still roaming over your body. He adjusts his knee so you have something to lean into. “So, pretty harmless. But they are also some of the most incorrigible gossip hounds I’ve ever known.” 

“They didn’t mind setting their daughters up with a vampire?”

“Not all of them are human, honey.” His eyes roll up your chest to your face. “And the ones that are were practically begging me to turn them.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, baby, I didn’t.” He shifts again, tugging you further over his shoulders, thumbs pressing gently into the backs of your knees. “We don’t have to do this if you really don’t want to.” 

“I know. It’s just . . .” You touch his thigh behind your back, needing to feel him to gather up the strength to say what you wanted to. “No one’s ever done this before.”

Max’s solid eyebrow jumps, lips pulling back into that wicked smirk. You swear you catch a glimpse of fang as he focuses back onto your cunt. 

“Well, you’re a monsterfucker and I’m your monster to fuck.” 

His mouth lowers, eyes on you, waiting and begging. You nod and he prods your clit with his tongue again, before licking anything and everything out of your hole.

Max doesn’t eat. He feeds. 

He grunts through his nose, trying to kneel as high as he is allowed in the cramped space. Finally, his gaze falls from you, eyes flickering shut, as the cramp in your pelvis digs deeper – you cry out – but then, it melts. The dull ache is spread across your hip bones until it is just warm, hot with your rushing blood. You moan, throwing your head back, and finally you dig your hands into his hair. 

As that warm bright coil begins to sink into your pelvis, Max groans between your legs. He pulls back just an inch, his lips a gooey red, to say:

“Pull on it if you need to hold yourself up.” 

Why you thought you could ever go back to a human lover after Max is a fuzzy, hazy notion at the edges of your mind when you dig your fingers into his hair, slightly longer than it’s been in the past, and pull yourself even closer to his mouth. 

In a truly impractical position, you feel his iron-hard cock poke your back, his hips stuttering, fucking empty air. His arm bands around your hips, your knees knocking against the ceiling, as he adjusts his grip. 

The inverse of blood has you going dizzy; blood rushing to your head as Max coaxes blood out of your cunt. 

And then you feel it. 

Behind your thighs, his chest vibrates and the air is filled with a delicious, primal sound. The sound of a beast being satiated, of a hunt gone well, a feeding that will sustain for a long, long while. Before you found it rather adorable, funny that a grown man like Max Phillips would purr when deeply satisfied, but now, it’s a hair-pin trigger to your demise. 

You cry out, loud and wet and wanting, as everything from your hips down starts to tighten up again. You lock your ankles together against his back, toes exposed to the night air, and you use the last of your waning strength in your thighs to lift yourself even further to him. Your hips thrust weakly and that grip around your hip bones seals you to his chest. 

Don’t fucking move. 

But it’s enough. Your inner thighs a gooey, hot mess, he prods his tongue deep, licking up every liquid that drips out of you, before coating your clit in your own mess. 

He sucks and you come. Long and loud. 

Your vision slowly begins to unblur, black spots fading, as he lowers you down, careful not to go too quick like he’s trying to not to wake someone from a light sleep. You can feel that sleep, that endless relaxation swelling over you as you go boneless while Max untangles you. 

Your eyes stay open long enough to see the smear of red across his lips before he wipes it away. The cramping in your pelvis has been reduced to a gentle throb. 

Gingerly, Max pulls your skirt down, hand arching your back so you don’t have to lift your hips as he adjusts you back into some modicum of decorum. He reaches back and snags his coat and jacket from the ground before tossing them into the passenger’s seat. With your feet in his lap, arm stretched out across the back of the seat you just debauched, he shuts the door and instantly the smell of his cologne permeates the air. 

You grin, wriggling down in the seat as far you can go like a housecat warmed by the sun. 

You sit in silence for a bit, content to just be, a welcome retreat for your breathing to go steady and his cock to soften. His hands brush against the heels of your bare feet. 

“You made me purr again,” he says with a grin. 

“There’s no way that’s the technical term for it, whatever it is,” you say teasingly as you watch him trace your ankles with his finger. “You should ask another vamp what you’re supposed to call it.”  

He chuckles, squeezing your foot once before glancing up at you. Whatever he sees in you, it makes his eyes go soft.

“You mean ask about the thing that only happens during the most intimate moments a vampire can experience? Yeah, sure, I’ll bring it up at the water cooler.” 

Satiated and warm and a little loopy from a truly record breaking orgasm, you stick your tongue out at him. 

“Fine. I’m going to tell people that you purr like a cute, innocent little kitten until you find a better term.”

He bends your knee so he can press his lips to the curve. 

“Just because you’re my girlfriend, don’t think I won’t turn you over and swat your bottom.” He nips at the hollow of the joint with flat teeth, opening up your legs to him again. You can feel that heavy wetness trickle down again, and you sit up, not embarrassed by your bleeding, but suddenly tired beyond belief. 

Max lets you move out of his lap as you curl a hand around his cheek. It’s a shame you only see that touch of vulnerability, the man without the quips and the teasing and the bravado, after a good fuck. But you think you might finally have it your way, sooner than you ever hoped. 

“Well if my boyfriend would drive us back to his place, maybe I could show how sorry I am for teasing you.” 

He studies you for a minute, a full minute that has you surprised he’s not roughly kissing you again.

“Sometimes, around the office, you’d smell different and I never knew what it was. I didn’t put enough thought into it to realize the pattern, but it makes sense now. And it makes sense why you were suddenly very busy during that week when I’d bootycall you.” 

You shrug, your neck suddenly very warm. “I dunno. I figured you wouldn’t want to be around me when I’m like that. Not to mention I dress in baggy clothes and wander around my apartment with a heating pad taped to my hips.

“Really? They’re that bad?”

You nod. “Women around the world rejoiced when working from home became an option. Video calls only show from the waist up.”

“Now that’s all I’m gonna be thinking about at the next all-hands meeting,” he grins and squeezes your knees. 

“I guess I set myself up for that one, didn’t I?” You shake your head. He nods, humming his affirmation, and kisses you. 

“Let’s go to your place,” he mutters against your lips. “There might be no place on earth less equipped to handle Shark Week than a male vampire’s bachelor pad.” 

“Shark Week?” You giggle. 

“Carla’s words, not mine. The Rising Red Tide. Code Red. Aunt Flo. And my personal favorite, communists in the fun house.”

Your giggle turns to a snort as you lean forward into him, laughing. His lips press affectionately into your hairline as you settle down. 

He moves to take your feet out of his lap when you gently take his elbow. 

“So we’re good, right? This wasn’t too much?” You are a little concerned by the total and complete lack of fang he showed, but entirely grateful.

As if reading your mind, he says, “the fangs only come out when I need to get through pesky flesh to feed. Your blood came out like a broken ice cream machine at McDonalds.”

You wrinkle your nose as he laughs and you push him out of the car. 

“That’s disgusting, Max.”

You snag the keys from your briefcase and toss them to him as he rounds the car and you crawl into the passenger’s seat. 

He drops in and immediately turns on your seat warmers. The gesture is subtle and thoughtful, things you thought Max Phillips never could be. 

“Speaking of which,” he holds onto the head of the seat as he backs out of the spot. “Carla also told me that ice cream is the cure to most cramps. So, with the lovely picture I just painted in your mind, do you want to go to McDonalds?”

As you look at him, shadows flitting across his face as he drives under streetlight after streetlight, his fingers that had been inside you minutes ago loosely holding the steering wheel, your heart twinges as you come to a certain realization.

This can’t last, right?

He’s only acting like this because he feels bad, feels guilty, right?

Max Phillips isn’t boyfriend material, despite his claims. 

As proven before, feelings can change. So you wonder how long until his feelings about you change again and he grows tired of you. Max Phillips is not a housecat. 

You swallow, glancing away before he has a chance to catch your eyes.

“Yeah, Max, let’s do it.” 

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[icanbeyourjedi-writes]

Interview with a Vampire A Max Phillips One-Shot

Summary: Reader is sick, a curled up on the sofa while Max is at work, little did she know he'd surprise her coming home early while 'Twilight' is on TV Words: 1962 Rating: E for EVERYONE --Its a lot of fluff- Warnings/Triggers: Max is a vampire, he's kinda of an asshole, but its mostly fluffy, mentions of the movie Twilight, mention of sex and God...nothing really to bad. No mentions of reader descriptions, but it is written in first person from a female.

It's Friday the 13th it felt like a good day to share a Max Phillips story, something I wrote quickly to help get out of my writers block. And thanks to @musings-of-a-rose-writes for reading it before I posted ;)

**Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. **

The perks of being sick, besides the fact I don’t have to go to work. I get to snuggle into my boyfriend's old Princeton hoodie while having my lower half burrioted in a fuzzy blanket. I’m laying on the way over-priced leather couch that he just had to have. “It’s classy sweetheart, and I am a classy man," he had said when the delivery guys dropped it off in his great room. I’m warm in the little cocoon I’ve created and my eyes slowly close and I drift off for yet another nap. 

My senses start to come too when I feel the fuzzy fabric moving, the feeling of his large hand rubbing the soft fabric up and down my calves that are now draped over his lap. I slowly blink awake, glancing at the wall clock on the far wall, it’s too early for him to be home. The sun has just started to descend. I stare at his sharp profile. The strong jaw, his Romanesque nose, and those pouty lips. Those lips that should be a sin to be able to kiss. I mean, technically they are a sin. He is a sin. He is the definition of sinful. 

I turn my head seeing that Twilight happened to be the movie playing. His eyes focused on the images moving in front of him. He hated vampire movies, always complaining about how Hollywood portrays them. I see the remote sitting on the coffee table, in the same spot I left it. I lean forward reaching for it when his hand snatches it before I can even lift my arm. 

“Now, baby girl…” he says, smirking and raising an eyebrow looking at me, “Bella is just about to tell Eddie boy what he is”

Maximus Phillips, senior sales manager, my boyfriend…and a vampire. Now you see, dating my boss was never part of my plans. And dating a vampire definitely wasn’t on my life BINGO card, but here we are. 

“Max, give me the remote” I sniffle, sitting up and pulling my legs away from him

“But this is the best part” he puts his arm around me, pulling me close, rubbing his nose along my neck before placing a kiss to my pulse point

He is trying to distract me, and god damn it…it’s working. He sucks on the delicate skin he can reach. His hand sliding up my arm, his fingers grip at the material and pull it out of his way. A little nip has me meaning his name. “Mmmm Maaaax”, he nips at my skin again, and I feel him smile. Knowing Max it is probably more of a smirk. His hand slides around my throat, keeping me in place “shit foooooocmmmcus” I think, as I wrap my fingers around his wrist 

“I know what you are”

“What are we baby girl?” Max asks, he sharp teeth grazing against my skin

My free hand grips his thigh, waiting for him to sink his fangs into me. “A vampire…” I say in unison with the movie. 

“That’s right” he presses his lips against my skin

I open my eyes and see remote sitting next to him, I slide my fingers up, lacing them with his.  I run my hand up his thigh, leaning into him more. Hoping and praying that he is still laser focused on my neck. My hand flies from his leg to reach for the remote. Before I can even realize what happened he is sitting on the lazy-boy, remote in hand. Almost teasing me with it. 

“You gotta be quicker than that baby girl” he smirks. Turning his attention back to the movie. 

“Max, please.  Can we just watch something else” I beg 

I watch Max, he throws his head back in laughter shaking his head as Edward sparkles in the sunlight. “This is the skin of a killer” the TV says,  he laughs at that even harder. “This movie is full of lies” 

“Aren’t they all?” I groan. I knew this was going to happen, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. But really this is all his fault, he came home early 

“I don’t fucking sparkle in the sunlight, in fact I don’t know a single vampire that does” 

“Well yeah, because you turn into a pile of dust” I smile at him

“How many bad vampire movies have you seen?” He questions, taking off his dark charcoal suit jacket, setting it over the armrest “I don’t turn into a pile of dust, and I don’t catch on fire either”

“The daylight ring protects that” I watch as he stands, undoing the knot I’m his red tie, and pulling it from around his neck.  He drops it into my lap, walking to the covered floor to ceiling windows on the far side of the room, “Max…Max, what are you doing?” 

“Showing you what happens to me in the sunlight” pushing a few buttons on the wall, the dark blinds begin to rise, letting the setting sunlight fill the room. 

He starts to unbutton his white dress shirt. He stands in the middle of the windowsl, letting the sun hit his entire body.  My eyes are locked on to him. His fingers slowly finish unbuttoning his shirt, “now sweetheart, I want you to watch…” he slides the silver ring off his finger. It makes a clink when it hits the hardwood floor beneath him. 

“Max, don’t…you don’t have to do this” 

I honestly have no idea what is going to happen. I mean he wouldn’t put himself in danger of melting, burning, turning into dust or wax..no wait that’s a witch. He gives a wicked small, while he lets the shirt fall to the ground. I sit and wait, and watch. He’s right…nothing happened. No sparkles, no smoke, no turning to dust. 

“I told you baby girl, nothing was going to happen to Daddy” he smirks.

“Don’t call yourself that, it’s weird” I say, watching as he bends down to pick up his ring. He slides it back on his finger before picking up his shirt. There’s a faint glimmer from where the sun was hitting his back. I cough, trying to hold back my laughter. I end up coughing harder than I probably should have. 

Max is sitting next to me in the blink of an eye. A hand rubbing up and down my back. “Sweetheart, are you ok? Baby?”

“I’m…cough..ok” I get out finally 

Max pulls me close, pulling my legs over his lap as I snuggle into his chest. The sun had warmed him slightly.  He was never ice cold to the touch but his body was always cooler than mine. Never even breaking a sweat when we fooled around. I turn my head up to look at him, I barely open my mouth “and no, I can’t read your mind” I swear I could almost hear his eye roll

“But, you just did” I smile, resting my head on his chest, “the movie does have one thing right”

“That we vampire’s are incredibly sexy” 

It’s my turn to roll my eyes. Confidence was something he didn’t lack. Nope, not one bit. Maximus Phillips knew he was attractive and he made sure everyone knew it too “it’s part of my charm” he would always say. I lace my fingers with his and set them on my lap. “I was going to say moody…” I grin turning my head to look at him, “but, sure sexy weeks too”

He frees his hand from mine, tucking his fingers under my jaw tilting my head up. He slowly brings my lips towards his. His eyes looking into mine, his tongue darting outs, quickly wetting his lips. A sinfully playful smile before they crash onto mine.  It starts slow, gentle; his hand slowly moving to wrap around my neck. Licking the seam of my lips I let him in before quickly pulling back, “it’s alright baby…I can’t get sick…remember” 

And he says he can’t read my mind. His thumb brushing the delicate skin just below my ear. I close my eyes and look down at our joined hands. Max leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. 

“You sure you can’t find minds?” I sigh

“Maybe, just yours” he shrugs grinning from ear to ear

He places a quick kiss on my check and returns to watching the movie. I put my head back on his chest, his hand on my thigh. His thumb gently rubbing soothing circles while his other hand rubs my arm up and down. It’s gentle moments like this that I forget who and what he is, a man who can flip and switch. A man who is incredibly capable of snapping my neck with just a flick of his wrist if he wanted. 

“Ugh…” he throws his head back, groaning and yet another vampire cliche “our eyes don’t change colors.  They especially don’t change based on what we eat. Baby, why do you watch this crap?” it wasn’t a question though 

It was a good question, I don’t really know why. Maybe because it was nostalgia, maybe it was because at the time, I thought it wasn’t just a cheesy vampire movie. Did I know at the time that a handful of years later I would actually be dating a vampire? No, it definitely wasn’t on my life’s ‘bingo’ card. I didn’t even believe vampires were a real thing…not until Max Phillips walked into my life. 

“But they do, I mean not like that…but yours do” 

He shakes his head, “they stay this awful shade of brown…they always have been” he kisses the top of my head before I turn to look up at him

“They are always brown, yes, but sometimes they are lighter. They have a honey color to them, sometimes they have a speckle of gold to them especially when you look at me and tell me you love me.  Then, sometimes…when you are just about to ya know, they are almost black.” my hand holding on to his broad shoulder, he stares down at me and I see that little fleck of gold I was just telling him about.  I scrunch my face, trying to hold back a sneeze but it doesn’t work. I have been holding it back for too long. 

I closed my eyes, and sneezed all over his face before I could get my elbow up to cover my nose. I open my eyes to Max's face, something between annoyed and shocked that I actually sneezed on him. 

“You sneezed” he comments

“Thanks, I didn’t realize that's what I did” I roll my eyes at him “wait, you can’t say it can you? You can’t say bless you…” he shakes his head no, “you can’t say God either can you?” 

“No, I can’t say it, but I sure as hell can make you scream it…just before mine” he smirks, pulling away from me and going back to watching the movie

“Max…gross” I shake my head, wiping my nose on the sleeve of his hoodie and laying my head back on his chest. His laugh, deep makes his entire body shake and it’s moments like this. A domestic moment with him that makes me forget he's a vampire. 

I had fallen asleep at some point, waking up to a dark room. Max had laid me down on the couch, a blanket wrapped around my body. My back pressed up against his chest, the thick, warm blanket between us. The final scenes playing out in front of us. Edward and Bella sharing a dance. He leans her back, his lips moving to her neck. Max’s hand resting on my hip, I can feel his lips moving against my ear. “I love you too…” he whispers

[boredzillenial]

Day 6: of @flightlessangelwings fawktober!

Max pays a visit during your first heat trying to “help”.

Theme: A/B/O, vampire!Max, Omega!reader, Omega heat, dub-con if you squint, pinv, praise, bit of Dacryphilia

A.N: My first time writing A/B/O! I get the jist of “heat” but I’m gonna play with the concept a bit!

You were curled under a mountain of blankets, shivering in a cold sweat as you rode out your heat. Surprise surprise one of Max’s colleagues was a werewolf and turned you, surprise surprise again when the “pills” Max gave you for your incoming heat didn’t work. Your pussy ached as you soaked yet another pair of underwear. You’d never been so wet in your life and no one was even around.

Masterbation took the edge off at first but now your body was throbbing for the real thing. Suddenly your ears perked for a moment, footsteps? Then a soft knock on your front door and… was someone fucking laughing?

You crawl your way out of the pile of blankets on your bed, your clothing sticking to your skin from the sheen of sweat and your thighs slid against each other. Peering out of the peep-hole in your door you saw the one person you truly did not want to deal with today. Your anger outweighed your better judgement as you whipped open the door “You…” you growled.

“Hey there,” Max’s shit-eating grin sent your blood boiling more than it already was. “We missed you at work tonight. I just wanted to drop by and see how the pills were working for you.”

“How does it look like they’re working…” A shiver rocked through you as his woodsy cologne hit you like a tidal wave. You shift on your feet as you lean on the door.

Max let out a dark laugh as he inhaled deeply, his eyes flickering to your groin. “Oh no, not very well it seems.” He feigned a nonchalant shrug as his next words came softly “I can help with that, since I’m already here.”

“Fuck. You.” Your eyes flash in a golden hue as your anger and lust fought for control.

“With. Pleasure.” His eyes darkened as he took a small step forward, gripping onto both sides of the doorframe. The wood creaked under his supernatural grip as he remained just on the other side of the threshold. The heat of his stare sent lightning through you. Werewolves weren’t susceptible to vampiric persuasion but your heat had your body screaming for any touch.

“You, you bastard -“ you shook your head in a desperate attempt to regain control.

“Let me help you.” He cooed, smirking as he began to undo his belt. Your eyes went wide as you watched him, knees practically buckling as you eyed his bulge through his boxers. “I won’t even make you beg for it. It’s right here.” He gripped himself through the thin fabric, the outline of his cock sent your mouth watering. “Just invite me in…”

“I - I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Your voice broke as you closed your eyes and took a shakey breath. “Come in-“

In an instant you were slammed against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist and his cock already pressing against the soaking fabric of your panties. His growl felt as if it tore through you as he ripped your soaked panties off you, the fabric biting your skin. The pain was soon forgotten as he sank into you stretching you the way your body was screaming for. His cock felt cool compared to the heat of your slick core.

He groaned and grit his teeth against your heat, “Fucking incredible.” His hips snapped, slamming into you over and over as he held you up. “That’s it, that sloppy cunt swallowing me so well.” He panted.

Your mewls and moans turned to sobs as your body reveled in what it was aching for. His cock like a cold compress in your feverish channel. “So good, why is it so good.” You whimpered pressing your cheek against his as you struggled to cling to your sanity. The slap of his skin against yours filled your house along with the soft drip, drip of your juices splattering the hardwood.

“Good girl, fucking cry for me.” He grinned as he licked a tear from your cheek. “So, fucking, good.” He punctuated each word with a thrust, the force against your clit sent stars across your vision. Your cunt fluttered around his girth as your orgasm washed through you. “Cum, cum on my cock that’s right.” He muttered into your throat as he grazed his fangs across your skin, his pace never slowing.

Your second orgasm came right after the first as a silent scream while you clung onto him. The chill of his body through his suit felt incredible as it sank into your own burning skin. “T-the bed.” You muttered as you tried to hang on. Two orgasms so close to one another sapped your energy.

Max carried you to the bedroom as you slacked in his grip. His dark chuckle filled your head as he laid you down with his cock still throbbing inside you. His reddish brown eyes bore into yours as he removed his suit. “For the next few days I’m staying buried in this hot little hole, you hear me?” He gripped your jaw as that dark fanged grin spread.

“Fucking leech.” You huffed. He rolled his hips and pressed into you as deep as he could, wrapping his hand around your throat. You took the chill of his skin against yours with a contended groan.

“Oh no sweetheart, I’m a tick -“ he began to grind his hips against you, the friction against your clit causing you to whimper again. “And I’m staying buried right here.” The slow churning of his pelvis against your clit and the stretch of his cock in your cunt sent you over the edge a third time. “Attagirl.” He smirked “We’re gonna have a fun few days. We’ll just tell the others it was team building.”

——————

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @lunar-ghoulie @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[popcornforone]

A Quick Snack

A Max Phillips Fan Fic

Do actual writing I need to over a long weekend… nope. Write a new Max Phillips Fan Fic… absolutely. Yep this was not on my radar, but here we are. Our favourite Vampire. Before you read I’ve only watched Max once & it was years ago but I have read enough to think I can get him right. Sorry if he’s not.

Synopsis: Max is your hangover cure, which give him his own high & is a good arrangement. But does a family reunion mean you will become more than a Snack for the creature of the night.

Word Count 6k

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 NO MINORS! PIV sex, mentions of other types of sex, Vampire lord & Vampiric traits including blood, murder, drinking, violence & devouring. Anger, stress, alcohol, drugs. Established relationship. I thinks that’s everything.

As always thank you for the read all feedback is welcome.

“We found love in a hopeless place, we found love…” it’s 1am & the bar is closing in half an hour & you’ve had a lot of cocktails & fun tonight, the perfect night with your friends. Dancing your heels away has started to hurt, but you are on such a high. A high that will definitely leave you with a hangover. That is a bit of an issue, you’ve got a family reunion lunch tomorrow & then party in the evening. If you turn up drunk, your parents will be disappointed in you & your grandparents will be disgusted. It’s okay though, you have a plan to cure it, which works every time.

As the bar closes you count your friends after they get filthy burgers & chips to help sober them up but you know not to, it’s not part of your cure but you do buy a bottle of water. “Are we all here & ready to go home” “no” Jess shouts “i still want to dance &…”she stumbles to the ground spilling her bag across the floor. You’re the mum of the group even drunk & help her up. You get everyone in the taxi line & when you know you are two taxis away you message him.

*almost home baby, ready for a quick snack*

You giggle as you get a reply that says

*ooooh nice, always delicious*

“Wooooo I’ve seen that face on you before, what’s his name?” Clare asks. You hide your phone but don’t see Maya look over your shoulder “It’s Maxie! that’s what her phone says ahhhhhh” “shhhhhhhh” you go to her. “When do we get to meet him?” “Is he nice?” “Why isn’t he out?” “Is he good in bed?” “Girls seriously!” You stop them all. “If you remember all of this tomorrow night I might let you know about him on Sunday” the taxi pulls up & you all climb in.

You are so grateful your apartment is on the ground floor, the idea of walking up flights of stairs is a step too many for your feet. You go inside & kick your shoes off sighing in relief”finally oh that feels good”. You stumble into the dark to the kitchen, past you remembered to put a bottle of water in the fridge & you grab it, before grabbing a bag of peas from the freezer & placing them on your neck. You gasp at first, feeling the coolness connect to your skin but it needs to happen to help your hangover cure. Without doing this you’d be in no fit state for tomorrow.

You remove your dress when you get into the bedroom & pull your thick blinds. You’d hoped he would already be here to make this even more enjoyable for you but he’s not. You take off your bra as well & slide on your strappy night dress. It’s made of silk & is red & clings to your body. The bed sheets you lie down on are also dark, so it can cover up for any mishaps. This is all preplanned & ready for your nights out & it works well for the both of you. You look at your phone, no messages to say he’s late or delayed. You remove the peas, lay on your back & your ears are pounding from all the music & booze. No weed or drugs, he doesn’t enjoy that & you want to make him happy.

You are almost asleep when you hear the bedroom door creek open. His broad shadowy figure instantly recognisable. Your hangover cure, your lover, & the man you are tomorrow going to to introduce to your family at the evening of this reunion party. Max Phillips. A creature of the night who you met on a drunken night out 18months ago. He was after prey but felt sorry for you as you tried to deal with your friend who was being kicked out of a bar. He helped you get her home & you asked him what you could do to thank him & that you’d do anything. You thought his fangs were fancy dress before he started kissing your neck & then bit into you, getting him drunk & curing you of your hangover in 5mins. He flew off but he’d already added his number to your phone. The next time you went out you asked if he was free & you had passionate sex in your apartment as he sunk his teeth in your neck. You both enjoyed it. He gets a high each time it’s not as potent a feeling as your hangover, but he sleeps it off during the day. Because of his powers it wears off much quicker than yours would. He loves it & so do you, it’s a good arrangement, but you now both agree that this needs to go a step further. He’s agreed to turn you at Halloween, the perfect day for you to also become a creature of the night.

“Even in a tipsy state & in a half light, you are still beautiful, my beloved” he smirks & slowly walks across the room. You’ve left the bed side light on so there is a small glow to the room. “Max, what took you so long” you reach up as he sit on the edge of the bed, undoing the top button on his shirt, dark blue. His skin always feels cold but so smooth. Lips that despite having no life in them always are so succulent to kiss. He may not have a beating heart but he makes yours race fast enough for the two of you. “Sorry darling, a guy was smacking his wife about & verbally abusing her while they walked their dog, so I am actually pretty well feed, & I had to go get changed before I got here.” “This is still going to work right baby” you question worried that he won’t want to feed on you as much, that you will feel rubbish tomorrow. “Also I wouldn’t have minded you being messy when you…” “yes you would have, he was a lot more than a snack” you blush. Max always is a moral person & doesn’t drink or drain for fun anymore, well he says that he always was but not since meeting you. But every now & then there is an exception because someone’s not a very nice person.

You sit up & place the bag of peas back on your neck again, ready to help numb the initial pain of the bite. You caress his face when you make eye contact before he kisses you. He may be cold but it still electrifies your soul, & the idea that this could go wrong always makes you shiver a little, there is always a slight risk. Max has always promised that if this ever does go wrong you will wake up after being turned 3 days later. “You ready my beloved, I know asking you in a drunk state isn’t exactly consent, but I need to know you are still happy with the risk?” He moves your long hair away from the left as he cups your chin “Maxie get bitey,” you giggle. That’s always been your confirmation. He removes the bag of peas,”the pleasure is all mine.”

You yelp. You always scream slightly. Feeling something sharp stab your skin always makes you yelp. Blood tests, piercings & tattoos always make you flinch & respond. His fangs have the same reaction. You grasp his thigh to make sure you don’t move so much, that he can sink into your flesh enough to get his flow to feed. The sensation is weird but arousing as he sinks deeper within the crook of your neck, knowing he will later be nuzzling into it when you have sex. You then feel a small trickle go down your shoulder. He’s found the vein that supply’s his meal. It’s cool as it starts to flow & you try to control your breathing. Being to turned on by this can lead to accidents & you pumping blood to fast. You have passed out twice because you’ve not controlled it. Thank god Max can also stop the bleeding with his vampiric powers.

Max moans as he slowly removes his fangs from deep inside your neck, making sure not to snip any over veins on his way out. His eyes have gone darker than they are anyhow, always large pools of chocolate dazzling back at you. “This is always my favourite meal, maybe it’s because we are dead soul mates” he sucks exquisitely on your neck taking his first slurp. His pupils dilate as the blood starts to coat his mouth. He loves you & that’s what makes the taste so delicious. He knows when he turns you he can’t drink from you anymore. He can’t drink from you all the time, he needs you fit & healthy & the best version of you before he turns you, he wants you to be happy with how you will eventually look for eternity. Fortnightly snacks are perfect or one off specialities like tonight when you need to be ready for the day ahead. His tongue glides across you & makes you moan & sigh. This means you’re safe, he’s not hit anymore veins & you’ve been calm enough that the stream he is feasting on is at a good pulse. He won’t spill a drop tonight.

You can hear him enjoying himself as he drinks, you know this roughly takes 5minutes, anymore & it becomes dangerous for you both. You don’t remember him setting a timer as he started to drink & you know you haven’t as you were almost asleep when he arrived. Anymore than 7 minutes will cause you to pass out & if he drinks too much he’s likely to want to devour all of you. No amount of turning would bring you back from that, you would be dead & that would be it. He can hear you gasp at this realisation & he can feel more liquid is his mouth as he swallows. He grabs your hand & rubs your knuckles, instantly soothing you. He knows he is too full to drink any further than 4mins tonight. He can feel your pulse & knows your heart rate so knows when to stop each time, unless he gets taken away, he only sets the timer to keep you at ease.

“Max you feel so good oooh baby, suck, drink it all, I’m actually going to miss you snacking on me I really am, it’s so intimate” the words are in a hushed tone as they part your lips. He has a smile on his face as he drinks thinking about how good his final snack of you will be. He slowly starts to move away, getting the last few drips in his mouth & presses his thumb across the two small holes on your neck. His mouth edges towards your ear, “delicious as ever baby, let me just seal you up.” His fangs as well as sinking into you, create an ooze that heals within minutes. It’s what flows in his veins to keep him undead instead of blood, but it does make him weaken, which is why he gets a little hungover from drinking you, after you’ve been out partying. It’s when the taste of your blood enters his system in these few seconds. The essence lands & seals the bite marks in seconds. It always hisses like a hot frying pan does when someone cooks bacon in it. You grown at the sensation, almost now feeling sober, but still with a slight high. He didn’t drink as much as usual but you know you will be fine for lunch tomorrow.

Max places the bag of peas back onto your neck to make sure there’s no residual follow up pain, before he licks his lips seductively & starts to take off his shirt. You glance up & see him roll his shoulders & start to rock his hips. The alcohol he’s drank out of your starting to make him playful & a tease. “Your hips know how to move baby they really really…”but your mouth drops open & the bag of peas fall to the floor & split open. Max has in one motion taken off his trousers & briefs, he’d been working on his fly & belt while he finished drinking you. He may not have any blood in his veins but he’s still long, girthy & erect, waiting for you to say yes. His trousers when he’s not hard, still show that Max should be very proud of what he has, he likes wearing those tailored trousers for that exact reason. “Bet no man danced like this for you tonight” he jokes a devilish grin appears on his face as his grooving body thrusts into the air. “I mean you’re technically not a man either baby” you laugh but then his hand is over your mouth. His blistering speed & reflexes means he’s hoovering over in a micro second as he also palms your mound as you moan into his mouth. “Do you consent Max?” You ask, knowing by the time he’s pounding you he will be drunk, “I do baby I do” he places his hand around your neck, not to harsh or forceful, but it means he can kiss your lips as he pushes you back into your pillows, & he glides his cock through your folds & into your core, your walls feeling every inch of his bare cock inside you.

Max is always silent during sex with you. It freaked you out the first few times, wondering if he felt anything due to him being dead, but he assured you he did, & that if he made noises it would shake more than just your body, the growl would shake the walls of the building. You learnt this when you had sex at his the first time. His sound proof room creaked as he plundered you. You enjoyed it but you love the pants & the eye contact he makes with you while he fulfils your needs. It’s intense beautiful yet disturbing & scary at the same time. You do make enough noise for the two of you. Each thrust you moan his name screaming at the end of any sex session. You moan into his mouth as he try’s to silence you with kisses which also keeps him quiet. His hand grips your throat further & makes you squeak, he wants to control your breathing, & by doing that makes you clamp down on his cock harder.

He stealthily withdraws, realising he was actually as well as his cock was pushing your knickers inside you, so he smoothly rolls them off your arse so they are now round your ankles, & then his relentless pace inside you starts again. A much firmer entry this time not holding back, a blistering pace to make you groan. He’s loving the sweet caress his hands are doing over your silk dress. Max doesn’t care that you’re covered by some slinky sexy material. Your breast are still hard & lifting the dress up as a tent due to his tease. As for your pussy, he is already inside you grunting, trying not to shout your name. He only needs to look at your face tonight, if he is going to go to euphoria with you. It’s not like he’s not seen your folds glistening for him before, though that’s his kryptonite. Seeing you masterbating as you are high on life is something else he would like you to do for him before you are turned into a Princess of darkness.

“Fuck Max fuck oooh yes yes” you body is pulsing at every thrust, every touch. You pull him close to you & lick the sweat off his long neck. Such a long neck. Perfect for nuzzling during a come down. Whoever got to feed on that neck before he was turned must have had an amazing time. He, she, they, them or a count, Max would have been delicious alive, because he’s pretty exceptional dead. He’s rocking into you hard, thrusting & biting his lip so he doesn’t cause your apartment to move. He is in a moment. He can feel the alcohol affecting him so he speeds up even more. His quick reflexes make him even faster than any man in the world, as his cock obliterates your core. You wonder as you sense your orgasm approaching, if he will be as fast when you also have these reflexes & speed. Not all vampires get the same power but you always pick one up from your master. You’re not his familiar but the deal is cast & he is the one who will be turning you.

You scream & growl “Fuck Maxie so bitey so big fuckkkkkk” & you cum. The orgasm hits you like a freight train & makes your whole body jolt & spiral. It’s the hardest you’ve ever had. Every sense is on fire igniting your being. You grasp his throat & can feel his rhythm change. He snarls & then digs his long nails into your hips. He fills you up, his seed coating you. He’s never asked if you were on birth control & has no idea if his swimmers actually could you pregnant, he’s dead after all. But you are on birth control just incase. As he slows & then leans into your body & whispers into your ear the 3 words you’ve always wanted to hear from any man. “I love you”. You gasp & kiss him deeply. When he’s done & collapses nuzzling into your neck, your stay in the embrace. You are sure for a second you can feel his heartbeat but then remind yourself he doesn’t have one. You eyes meet & he caresses your face. You sigh & say “I love you Max, beyond the forever, now help me sle…” Max blinks 3 certain ways to hypnotise you & you fall instantly asleep.

It’s the evening of the family reunion & it’s all gone well so far today. You’re a bit concerned, your cousin Amber is fretting about her husband who she argued with last night but he left the house & hasnt come home, but you’re also concerned that you’ve not heard from Max yet today. Usually he messages after he gets home from feasting on your neck & sex, so you will see it when you wake up. But not last night. You’ve message to remind him of tonight & that he is meant to be meeting your family & that you are sober, but not had a message back at all. So you’ve started drinking properly again & are on your 6th glass of champagne.

“Come do the monster mash” your sister try’s to drag you to the dance floor at your grandparents hotel that they own but you shake your head “no no no, my feet hurt to much from dancing last night, I can’t do it…” “did the hangover cure not fully work then?” Comes the smouldering tones from behind your left shoulder. You turn your head & smirk, pulling the biggest innocent but sexy eyes you have. Max is in a Black suit, white shirt & red tie. Hair pristinely in place. The perfect look to introduce any new boyfriend to your family “well I did get a very very good night sleep” you blush. He’s purposefully slow walking towards you before your fling your arms round his neck. He’s not hesitant in his kiss at all, rounding around your lips, kissing you with all the warmth in the world. His eyes dazzle back at you as you as always fall under his vampiric spell. He blinks once to make sure your still not hypnotised from last night & you pull on his dark red tie & lean in for the next kiss, only for your sister to say “erm hello I am still here, please finally introduce me to Maxie” you giggle & face her, as his hands pull you in close to his body. This is a big thing for him tonight, he doesn’t want you out of his grasp.

The last person you need to introduce Max to is your Grandpa which could be very awkward. “I’ve warned you about this Max okay please try & be you, but not you” Grandpa wheels over in his wheelchair & grabs Max hand firmly to shake it. Max hisses a little. “Max Grandpa was a priest, Max is Recruitment Manager & Motivational Influencer” you state. Years of touching holy water, means there’s still some residue on your Grandpa plus he had been to church that morning, Church & vampires don’t mix. “So will you make a honest woman out of my little snack” he asks. Max looks at you confused “snack?” He asks “when I was 4 I used to run round this hotel on a snack hunt, irritating the staff, so I became little miss snack” you giggle with your Grandpa & Max if he could would blush, he can feel he’s a little bit embraced as that’s his name for you too. “Yes, we’ve had a complicated relationship for a long time but I’m finally ready to commit to this, forever & beyond that” Max devilish smile is on his face as you sip more champagne “well if you do I still have my license, if I’m still around I can marry you in the name of…” “Grandpa!” You shout, trying to make sure Max doesn’t hear the word God & start to enrage, especially as he is a man of God, it would be too easy for Max to start devouring him. “It’s okay my beloved, your offer is sweet sir” Max says grabbing your hand “but my family, well there’s a lot of us, we have a very special commitment ceremony that happens, it takes place over lots of days & is very enjoyable” “I’m sure you can fit one more tradition in there for the brides family, all my grandkids have got married by my in my old church under God watchful protection”. You couldn’t stop it that time, Max is making a fist with his hand & is doing some heavy breathing. “Grandpa im sure that we will be able to sort something out with his, but Max & I still need to discus a few things before we get to that point” “well hurray up & decide you two, your not going to live forever & neither am I & id like to give you both a blessing” as he says that word he grabs both your hands, which sting Max as the grip is much firmer.

You leave your Grandpa & head into the garden for some air. Max did his best but all of that has made him uncomfortable & seething. He is proud he didn’t lose control for you, however if he doesn’t drink soon, he may snap into his full monster if provoked by anyone. Out of your hand bag you produce a small vile for him of your blood from when you cut yourself accidentally the other day & automatically thought to save us much as you could for Max. It’s not much but he smiles & it’s gone in 3 gulps. “Little does your Grandpa know that we will live forever my beloved” he tentatively kisses you, trying desperately not to bite your lip for more blood “he also wouldn’t like to know that I was born in the year 1916 & am older than him, imagine that.”Max chuckles “me finding my souls mate who’s 72 years younger than me” “& you don’t look a day over 35” you giggle & finish your alcoholic drink. He looks deeply into your eyes before he kisses you with hunger & desire. You push him away slightly & raise a finger to his lips. “Maybe we should both be drunk for the end of this party?” You ask, Max raises an eyebrow “the flows from your finger is not good enough to cure you baby” he says “that is true but why don’t you concentrate on sucking my finger while I…” your other hand is undoing his belt buckle. “Oooh my little snack oooh yes” he licks up your finger, when you both suddenly hear a high pitched scream from the house of Sheer panic.

You both run back inside when you see Amber screaming hysterically at everyone. She’s just been asked to go & identify a body that they think might belong to her husband. “Max can drive her there he doesn’t drink, I’ll come with you baby” you volunteer the two of you & you head off. “It’s okay Amber I’m sure it’s a false alarm it’s fine.” “But they said on the phone it was like he had been eaten by a lion, whoever’s body it is, even if it’s not Kanes, im scared to look at” you calm her down in the back seat of the car, her dad mum & 2 siblings are following in a Taxi. “Im sure he’s fine, no one would hurt him” “yes they would he’s not a good person” & that when you can see through here tears the bruises on her face. “Did he…” “every night for the last month he’s either physically or mentally abused me, he left in anger when I said we didn’t need to walk around the block with the dog again last night, he punched my face, called me a whore & then left…” you sit there saying reassuring things to her. However it’s only when she gets out of the car & heads into the station with her family, that Max sighs & puts his foot down to drive away very suddenly.

“Max what the hell what’s up” you say as you crawl Into the front passenger seat from the back of the car, he slows down as you attempt this, but speeds away once your in the seat “did he have a buffalo tattoo?” “What!?” “Her husband Kane did he have a buffalo tattoo?” “He had lots of tattoos Max I’m not sure…” you pause & then look concerned “was the dog a Jack Russell?” You ask & his face looks embraced as he turns to face you “MAX!!!” You scream & he does an emergency stop. You’re panting & in a panic,”did you kill & eat Kane? Did you! DID YOU!?!?” Your stare is hard, if Max had a soul this look would be destroying it. “Max you promised me a year ago, you had stopped eating people at random. There’s no excuse for this at all” “he was abusing her” “two wrongs don’t make a right Max! I can’t believe it, I though you were on the straight & narrow” you grab your bag & go to undo the car door but it’s locked “Max let me out I…” be he speeds off into the Forrest, jolting you back into the chair in panic.

“Max, let me out, Max, I can’t do this, you’re scaring me baby, please I want to be alone, please” He stops the car & you face him. He’s not looking at you, but you can tell he’s angry. “Max please, drive me home please, please please…”& then you freeze, he’s turned to face you in his full vampiric hunting form. His eyes are dark crimson Red, his fangs long & his growl is earth moving. The car & trees surrounding you shake from the noise he just made. You’re petrified to the seat & can’t move. “Max no, Max I can’t, Max let me go I…I… ahhhh”… He lunges forward.

You leap out of bed screaming & you hear your alarm going off. “MAX!” You scream ferociously & you see he is in your kitchen in his briefs washing his hands. He turns around startled before dashing back into the bedroom “what is it my beloved, what’s wrong” you grab your phone & check the date, & time silencing the alarm, the family party starts in just over 2hs. It was all just a dream? Your breathing is raged & you know to calm it you should hug Max to feel him being cool against your skin, but you don’t want to until you hear him confirm something. “I… I had a dream while i slept in your hypnosis” “&..” he asks while caressing your knuckles & checks you are fully out of his trance. “last night before you drank from me, you said you’d snacked on someone who was abusive & was walking a dog… did you kill him… did he have a Jack Russell?” Max laughs, “of course I didn’t kill him, I don’t do that anymore, why did you dream I did?” “But it was a Jack Russell right?” Max sighs “yes it was” you go to complain but Max continues “I hypnotised him then ruined his mental state & then started to drink him but he had been smoking pot, so I just dumped his hypnotised ALIVE body back on the porch. The reason I was late getting to you was because I hate blood that tastes of drugs, so I wanted to clean up first, if I’m gonna drink from my best supply I don’t want my mouth contaminated” you blush a little. “Sorry Max I dreamed you murdered him & then kidnapped & tried to devour me instead of turning me” Maxs grabs your hand, “the only thing I want to devour of yours is that glorious little cunt you have”

He straddles across you on the bed, & pushing you into the mattress, before finally Removing your red silk night dress exposing your naked body to him. “Do I have time for a taste before you have to leave?” He mumbles as he trails kisses down your neck. His large hands palming & squeezing your breasts. “I think you’ve only got time for one, I need A shower before I go, so sex or oral baby? You pick” you giggle. The way he sits up & puts his thumbs in his waist band answers your question. “I want to make your walls quiver around me while I fuck your precious little cunt” he releases his length stroking it leisurely before swiping it through your slick to lubricate it. You gasp as he nudges nearer & the you wrap you legs round his waist. “I know you have all the speed & vigour in the world baby, but I want you to fuck me like you would have when you were human” he giggles a little “so rampant after the Second World War sex it is then” you laugh & go to speak but your voice turns into a whine as he slots his penis inside you & starts rocking his hips.

Max sighs as he hears you gasp for air, his cock sliding through your walls as he rocks into you. One had on you hip massaging it, the other between your two bodies teasing your clit, the way he knows you like it. “Over 70 years of sex dead or alive, has helped me work out what to do with a woman’s body when she’s needy bbbuutttt…..oooooh fuck” you push into him & he can feel every inch of your core “but I….”he’s panting “I’ve never had a cunt as responsive as yours my beloved” Max rolls his head back & the shoulders jutter, his torso breathing breathily. He may not have blood or a pulse but it still doesn’t mean he can’t get a work out or out of breath as he has sex with you. “Max your talking during sex, should I be concerned…” “no my love, just RTwwaeeeerrr Arghhh” he grabs onto your hip & growls loudly & you can not just feel your body move & respond to his passion but you can feel the bed frame wobble. If this was hard fast vampiric sex you’d expect this but no, this is because his growling & talking, it’s is actually shaking your bedroom. You swing your arms round his neck & pull him down to you “kiss me through it Max, that will keep us both quiet & keep the building in one piece”.

Lips of desire, that for over 90 years have kissed countless women. Have feasted on everyone & everything, that can kill you in an instant. Which house fangs sharper than a butchers knife. Poison coursing through his veins & a curse of the undead. & yet when his mouth connects with yours in this moment, it’s sweet, silent & succulent. He has decided you are his undead souls mate, you were just drawn together. He’s never had this connection with another person before or after being turned. & he’s looked, oh has Max tried everyone, but now here he is with you in your 1 bed apartment in 2023, on the city outskirts, making love to you a receptionist for a local adverting company, pounding into your pussy at the slowest rate he can (which is still fast compared to most men) knowing your blackout blinds won’t fail, & that the only burning sensation he will have is his frozen heart trying to come back to life to make you stay & not go to your family party. He loves you & he can’t wait to have you as his when he has turned you. You might be normal & boring to the rest of the world, but you are the person Max has been searching for all his extraordinary life.

As your lips part he has to go faster he needs more friction, more moans from you. If your neighbours hear he doesn’t care. In 4months time you’ll be living together as vampiric soul mates else were. Let them complain about your moaning, you’re both having fun & not hurting anyone. His pelvis is thrusting & his cock throbs as he can feel you tighten more against him “Maxie ooooh Max fuck fuck fuckkkkkkk” “arghhhhhh” Max growls & the painting on the walls start to shake as he screams the words “this fucking cunt is insane”. Those words & the glass in a frame shattering make you both cum within 4 thrusts of each other. You shut your eyes & scream in desire before you feel his hot lips, covered in sweat from his face, lock with yours. “Fuck yes baby oh ooooooh my g…” he shhhs you before you can say the word god. It’s always been hard to to scream that during sex with him.

After snuggling for a few minute you realise what the time is & know you’ve got to get a move on. You shower & get dressed “ooooh you’ve gone for Dark Red & Gold I see, I’ll make sure to pick out my tie that matches” Max giggles & you throw a pillow at him as he wraps his dressing gown around him.”it’s a ruby wedding anniversary it makes sense doesn’t it & you are sure you’ve got my grand parents address, remember he…” “used to be a … yes yes I know my beloved” & he follows you to the door of your apartment. You wrap your arms around him & deliver 3 pecks to his lips. He tries to bite it on the third. “Remember not to eat any of my family later okay, especially Kane even tho he deserves it” He laughs & stands in the door frame as you step into the natural daylight in the hall way to leave the building “why would I want to bother with them, when I can snack on you later, especially as I’m driving, drink all you want baby, I can get high off you later.” You lean back in & kiss him once more “Oooh Maxie, always so bitey” you say as you let go of him. “7pm see you then” he calls out as you leave your building. You get in the taxi & send him a message

*were both each others snack baby*

*well I’d best get some sleep to work up all my appetites for tonight then could be a long night*

You smile at his reply, realising that soon he will be your forever. He might no longer have you as a snack, but you both know that forever with each other won’t be long enough for the plans you have.

[kirsteng42]

Who could turn Max down????

sorry i threatened to eat you i was trying to flirt

[free-for-all-fics]

A couple Ezra (Prosepct) Prompts! (Feat. Max Phillips)! Please tag me if you’re inspired by either of these ideas and I’d love to read it!👨‍🚀🩸❤️

1. Prospect and Bloodsucking Bastards Crossover AU: As a vampire, you've always needed to ask for permission to enter a house. Ever since being ejected into space, you've been looking for a way back to civilization the only way you know how: Knocking on the doors of passing spaceships and asking them to let you in. All you want is to return to your brother, Max Phillips, but nobody has permitted you to board their ship. It’s a Dog Eat Dog world and everyone is constantly on edge, distrusting of everyone they meet. You’re getting so hungry and desperate. Stray humans or strange creatures cross your path here and there while trying to mine for some gem. You feed on them and try to keep them alive as long as possible as your personal blood bags, but it’s still not enough. Man or monster, they all die quickly in this atmosphere. You can’t make them last in The Green. Dammit. You’ve been forced to feed on weird space wildlife. The taste varies from bearable to chokingly disgusting, but it won’t kill you. It’s rare when you have something actually good to eat.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been stranded in The Green when you meet Ezra. When he sees you don’t have a helmet, space suit, or any gear, he’s high on alert and points his gun at you. As if that’d do anything. How are you breathing and talking to him? What the hell are you, an alien? You’re obviously not human but you look at him with eyes like a wounded animal, worn down and exhausted from starving here for god knows how long. You’re too tired to say much beyond telling him you’re a vampire, but you’re silently pleading for his help. Still on guard, he makes a deal with you: He’ll supply you with blood (either his own or others’) and in exchange, you’ll work together to mine these prospect sites, get as many gems as you can carry, then get off the Green. His ship is busted and out of commission, so once you find a working ship and escape, he’ll punch in the coordinates to put you en route to Earth (or wherever the hell your brother is) so you can get home and be reunited with Max. Once he drops you off, he’ll leave you and go on his way.

But Ezra later sustains a wound that becomes infected by the poisonous spores in the atmospheres, so you approach a group of human villagers to trade for medical treatment. The villagers don’t cooperate, so you use your vampire powers to subdue them while you feed from them. You use some of Ezra’s equipment to bleed them dry then package their blood in portable bags so you can save it for later. It’s makeshift, but it’ll have to do. Now that you have the tools to save it, you won’t let one drop of blood go to waste. You may need it in case of emergency. You and Ezra then steal their medical equipment and gems before fleeing. Despite treating it with the stolen supplies, his wound worsens. He adamantly refuses when you offer to turn him into a vampire to heal his wound. He’d rather lose his arm than lose his humanity, so you respect his wishes and help him amputate.

You set out once more and arrive at a mercenary camp surrounding the Queen's Lair. After negotiating passage on the mercenaries' ship, you and Ezra attempt to fulfill your end of the contract and extract gems from the Queen’s Lair. You and Ezra fail several extraction attempts, and as the mercenary guard turns to report your failure, Ezra attacks and kills him. The commotion attracts the rest of the mercenaries, and a fight ensues. You use your vampire strength and speed to subdue several mercenaries and knock them out, but Ezra is gravely wounded during the fight. You drag Ezra and the mercenaries’ unconscious bodies onto their ship. You tend to Ezra's wound while you escape into orbit, but you warn Ezra that it doesn’t look good and he probably won’t make it through the voyage if you don’t do something. You ask him one last time if he wants you to bite him and turn him into a vampire. Weakened and in excruciating pain, Ezra accepts your offer this time. He worked too hard to get here and he still has so much to do. He refuses to meet his maker now, not after all he’s been through to survive. He’d rather lose his humanity than face a permanent death. Unbeknownst to you, he may have fallen in love with you over the course of your journey and just hasn’t had the chance to tell you yet.

You bite him. Ezra starts convulsing and retching, your vampire kiss infecting his bloodstreams and stopping his heart. While he transforms, you get to work bleeding the mercenaries dry. Ezra will need to feed when his transformation is complete, so you’ll need as many blood bags as you can fill. You’ll throw their drained corpses out of the airlock later. It won’t exactly be the perfect family reunion with Max that you’d hoped for, but you hope he’ll still be ecstatic to see you and welcome you home. You hope he missed you just has much as you’ve missed him. Whether Max grows to like Ezra and becomes friends with him or not, he’ll need to play nice and get along with him. You won’t tolerate any of his usual asshole behavior, especially if he tries to make quips about Ezra’s missing arm. Ezra is your mate, after all. Even if he himself doesn’t know it yet.

2. You’re like Ellie from The Last of Us, immune to The Green/planet atmospheres. You don’t have to wear a helmet, space suit, or any of this heavy breathing equipment like all other humans do. Ezra comes across you and is immediately on high alert, pointing his weapon at you as he interrogates you. How are you breathing and talking to him? Where’s all your gear? Who and what the fuck are you? Maybe you’re not human, but an alien of some kind that uses a translator device so that his English gets translated into your alien language and vice versa so you can understand each other. Either you’re a unique human like Ellie, a humanoid alien similar to a Yautja, or a full on monster-esque alien that’s an unknown creature with no distinct human-like features. If you don’t have a name or it can’t be translated, he may give you a new name or nickname. It’s all up to you. But either way Ezra falls in love with you, regardless of your gender or potential differences between your species.

[fortjester]

ur supposed to get one period a month yea? not me. i'm periodmaxing. we're on the fourth month of the year and guess how many periods i've had. brother, we are solidly on no. 7

[sinpathyforthedevilish]

Basic Instinct

Pairing: Max Phillips x F! Reader

Genre: Horror, smut, gore

Warnings: mentions of sexual content, drinking blood, murder, death

Words: 966

Summary: The slow and turtuous process of Max Phillips turning you into a vampire

A/N: I went to Airbag's concert yesterday and it was out of this world! I got inspired by their song, you should definitley check it out!

"And in the night you will see, you will dance at dawn And into your abyss you will fall to the ritual of my desires" Bajos Instintos - Airbag

.

When Max sank his fangs in your neck for the first time in his office, your oxygen stopped. Every sensation, sense, and sound trembled around you. It was a feeling you never felt before. Your vision blackened, white hot liquid dripping between your legs. 

“There you go baby,” he rasped in your ear. 

“M-Max..” you cried out loud. It was too much, it was as if death and life was fighting each other to get you. Your eyes were looking for him pathetically. 

You felt absolutely euphoric. And falling apart. 

“You asked for it, now fucking get it sweetheart,” he smirked with an evil smile on his face.

He didn’t kill you that time. 

However, his promise of keeping you alive came with an exchange.

He left you thirsty, famished for more. 

More. More. More. 

Your lips were dried like the desert, as if you hadn’t drank water for days, weeks. 

The hunger for something else came within. 

Now everything you looked for turned into the shape of liquid. Of a red, heavy, metallic-flavoured liquid that was making you absolutely insane. 

Each time you entered the office, the fresh smell of skin was surrounding you like smoke. Your vision was focused on one single thing: veins, necks, bruises. 

You were sweating more than never, your pupils wider and your saliva almost drooling. You felt like a beast in the middle of lambs. Your hunger is killing you more and more by the passing of the hours.

It’s like you were drowning in a dark shade of water that was corrupting you by each inhaling and exhaling you made. 

Fucking bastard. 

You waited for everybody to leave and when Max was closing his office door with that flirty smile, you pushed him against the wall, grabbing his collar with a force you didn’t know you had.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME, YOU ASSHOLE!” you snapped at him.

He was scared for a moment, but smirked just right after. 

You were infuriated, breathing heavily and seeing red, literally.

“Oh darling,” he whispered. “You didn’t think fucking a vampire would leave you safe and sound, huh?” he cupped your cheek, tracing your lips that were slowly shaking. “You are just a pathetic little creature, desperate for some love, for some prince charming to rescue from your miserable life.”

“Fuck you!” you sobbed, but the hunger was becoming stronger and stronger. You couldn’t help but moan at the necessity of eating meat, drinking the luxurious of a metallic-flavored liquid. 

“Shh, I know baby, I know.” He let go of your hold, taking your shoulders and carrying you in front of his office mirror. 

“Look at you, you are just like me now. We are now both creatures superior from the rest.” He breathed as he peppered kisses on your shoulder and your collarbone. 

You weren’t capable of staring at your reflection. Your irises were bright red and your skin was paler than before. It couldn’t be… It couldn’t—

“N-no, I am not like you. I-I will never be!” The struggle to pull away was too hard. 

“I chose you, you were not like the others. You wanted more. You wanted to know what it feels like. To have power over others. To kill. To corrupt. You fucking knew, sweetheart. I could read your mind when I met you. So I had to take you.” he smiled in a triumphant way as if he had won the biggest prize. 

“GET OFF OF ME!” you pushed him away from you. Your breathing was erratic. 

He fixed his suit, licking his lips and fixing his hair. 

“I’ll fucking prove it to you, I am not like you. I won’t kill anybody!”

He laughed loudly, throwing his head back.

“Oh baby. I bet you will leave out of here starving, go see for yourself and tell me later, honey! Perhaps we can eat together again  in my bed…!

You didn’t let him finish his sentence as you reached for your bag and rushed towards the office door. 

He was right. 

The hunger, the thirst was eating you alive. You were becoming a monster, you could feel it in your bones. It was painful, every muscle, every portion of your skin was burning you alive. The doors of hell was slowly opening for you. 

You came across a club, and without a doubt you entered. Hundreds of bodies sweating and dancing. You were drooling. Swallowing, you took off your coat and fixed your skirt. 

Your teeth were pricking your mouth.

No… please no. Fuck. 

Right in the middle of the dance floor, there was a tall guy, alone. He was handsome and his skin was brightening. You followed him like a prey. You were the hunter about to kill. 

You stood behind him, glancing at his movements, at his hips and his bback muscles moving. 

Do it. Do it. Do it. 

Fuck it. 

“Do it, darling. I know you want to.” A dark whisper entered your ear and succumbed to your body. 

“Okay, Max.” You sighed. 

You grabbed the guy’s neck, stroking his sweaty and warm neck. The guy, hypnotized by your touch, threw his head back, offering you his life. 

DO IT. 

You opened your mouth like a tiger and broke his epidermis with your fangs, penetrating each layer of skin until you reached his veins, drinking and moaning as you took every part of his being, swallowing his blood like water.  You became erratic, orgasmic, beautiful. 

Like never before. 

As you ate him, Max moved your hair from your neck, kissed the scar of his bite in a soft way and whispered in your ear.

“Now you are just like me, baby.”

You were finally a vampire. A monster. A creature of the night.

The gates of hell were finally opened for you.

[kirsteng42]

Beautiful Broad boy!!!

Pedro Pascal as Max Phillips Bloodsucking Bastards (2015) // dir. Brian James O'Connell

[chronically-ghosted]

Second Base.

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 3712

summary: you try out second base; hand stuff only, but it changes things between you two, as much as you don't want it to.

warnings/tags: cute little outfits designed to drive max nuts, hand jobs (m and f receiving), more blood, fangs, one emotionally unavailable vampire

a/n: this contains one of my favorite lines i've ever written!

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Second base.

Because you aren’t actual sadists or masochists, after the first bite, your sex life with Max went back to normal. Well, as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night ever was in the first place. Okay – as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night who is Max Phillips ever was in the first place. Which is to say, often, hard, and loud. It had been weeks since you’d seen that worried look of consternation, that sweet vulnerability he expressed, as if feeding on you might be the thing that kills you and not being railed against your couch for the better part of an entire day. Sometimes you wished he had much respect for your ability to walk upright as he did your jugular vein. 

On some level, you were aware that his recent overexuberance was in part due to that vulnerability. As if you might lift the curtain and find that the man behind it all might leave you wanting. Truly a frat boy at heart, Max struggled to express anything that couldn’t be summed up with the three “ings” – licking, sucking, and fucking, obviously – but now, he had been exposed as someone capable of those deeper feelings, as if he had been the one to split open a vein for you. And despite the heavenly glow you indulged in after the first bite, you really weren’t quite sure how you felt about it all. You hadn’t started dating Max with any illusions about who exactly he is. In fact, you might have started fucking him in the first place because it seemed wildly out of character that he or you would get attached at all – to anyone or anything. The dating thing just sort of happened, when you both came to the same conclusion at roughly the same time: no one else was really doing it for you, so why not? So what if you only directly referred to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend in the privacy of your own apartment, or his? So what if half of the office was entirely clueless about your relationship and the other half was actively placing “secret” bets about how long you two had been fucking? Annoyingly, Tim had been the one to be almost right: “six months ago, I’m telling you, man. That’s when he stopped eating secretaries and she got so much nicer.”

Technically, he stopped eating secretaries about a month into your relationship, and what Tim accidentally overheard was not him “eating” a “secretary”, but you weren’t about to correct him. But Max found it all hilarious: “he’s right, you’re so much nicer when that pussy has been taken care of. But I like it when you’re mean.” 

You actively choose not to think about what he meant by a “deep emotional connection” last time.

Fine, Phillips, I’ll show you how mean I can be.

“Nope, no, uh uh.” 

You put your hand just over the frilly blue lace on your hip. “I’m sorry, I don’t see the problem.” 

It had been about a month since first base and while Max had gotten notably more relaxed around you seeing him eat – he now occasionally walked around your apartment with his food in an opaque smoothie tumbler with a straw – he was still very strict about moving onto second base. 

Which, if left up to him, meant you’d be wearing a straight jacket and thick flannel pajamas. 

“Max, if we’re ever going to do this thing for real, you’re going to have to get used to seeing me naked. I’m not letting you fuck me and bite me while I’m in riot gear.”

“Okay, but, baby,” he whines and he can’t help himself from rubbing the satin bow above your crotch between his fingers. “You look like a birthday cake.” 

Is the baby blue lingerie with a strapless bra that catches around your biceps with white lace a bit overboard? Yes. But last time was ridiculous.

Max frowns, his visible pout morphing into something subtly dangerous as he realizes he can unpeel your bra with a string in the back. “Can’t I just fuck you normally in this and then we’ll try again later?”

You swat his hand away as it sneaks across your ribs. 

“No.” 

“You know, if I wasn’t already dead, I’d think you’re trying to kill me.” Smirking, he drops his hands down to your waist and, not so subtly, curves them around the mold of your ass. Distractedly, he slips one finger under the seam of your panties. You press your hands against his chest and blink up at him coyly. 

“Whatever gave you that impression.” 

He shakes his head, squeezing your ass once. “And I’m supposed to be the soulless demon with a heart of darkness.” 

“So you’ll do this?” 

With a sigh and his eyebrow jumping, he nods. “Yeah. Fine. Go get on the bed.”

Trying desperately not to squeal, you tear away from his arms and all but run and leap on top of the white towel. Max slips out of his shoes, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. You bite your lip, nerves humming in anticipation, as you sit up on your knees to watch him. To your enormous dismay, no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much spit or cum you used, you could not make him purr again. You’d had wet dreams on the idea alone of putting your head against his chest as he vibrated but he swore it was involuntary. “And,” he added as a way to soothe your ego, “I’m pretty sure it can only happen when I’m feeding.”

“Does it happen every time? Like with blood bags or back when you hunted people?”

“No,” was all he said about that.

Max slips his shirt off over his shoulders and goes to work unbuttoning his pants. When they slide off his hips, you frown. 

“The boxers with the hole in the waist? Ooh, baby, I’m so turned on when you make such an effort.” 

He rolls his eyes as he climbs in next to you. “Look, I didn’t think you’d be seeing my underwear and I need to do laundry.”

“You didn’t think I’d see your underwear in a situation where we’re going to specifically jerk each other off?”

Attempting some version of contrite, Max’s gaze falls from your face to your throat, to your clavicle, to your tits, pillowed up for him beneath the blue lace. He leans in as if pulled by magnets. 

“I’m sorry if I thought we’d both be a little more preoccupied.” 

His broad palm smooths across your thigh, around your hips, to just above your tailbone, his nose drawing indistinct lines from your shoulder to your ear. You sort of hate how quickly he can make you not irritated with him. You shift to take him into the cradle of your thighs, when he winds your panties up in his fingers and tugs. The gossamer material tightens just over the seam of your pussy, teasing your clit, you choke. That heated, teasing Max Phillips smirk spreads like hot butter across his lips. 

“What are the rules again?”

“Max,” you whine as you drag your nails over his chest and up his shoulders. But he hesitates, his hand knotting your underwear in his fist. One move and it’ll rub against you again.

“I’ll stop,” he murmurs in a half-sing-song voice. You huff.

“Silver. Bad touch, on your skin. Lightheaded or dizzy, I use the safeword. And,” you sigh. He’s so painfully handsome sometimes it hurts. He’d set out candles again, as if he needed any help in his seduction of you and he just sort of glows. You don’t know if it’s your anticipation or some vampire illusion, but every line on him is blurred. Soft, as if he doesn’t have your pleasure literally in his hands. There it comes again, that small bit of light in his eyes, the emergence of the early morning sun over the horizon. The way he looks at you makes your chest heavy. “And . . . only hand stuff,” you grumble. 

He chuckles, pouting at you in faux-sympathy as he reaches out, other hand wrapping around the back of your neck. “Only hand stuff, she’s so sad about it,” he whimpers into your cheek with a high, mocking voice. 

Your fingers dig into the skin on his chest, daring to hold him away as he goes for your mouth. “I swear to god, Max –,”

In one single fluid motion, he pushes on your tailbone, and swings your hips forward as he tackles your mouth with his own, effectively yanking you under him. You huff in surprise, before pulling away to find menace and glee in his eyes. Grins again as he nips with flat teeth on the curve of your neck. 

He plants wet, hot kisses across your chest, heat blooms against your ribs and tunnels down between your legs, as he tongues the softer places along the hollow of your throat, then up the other side of your throat, teasing your earlobe. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “that was mean. What can I do to make it up to you?” 

Pressing your chest up against his, knowing he can feel the squish of your tits, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you. His hard cock rubs up against your seam and he lets loose with a muffled groan into your mouth. You roll your hips once with him between you and he turns his head to your jaw, as you both pant at the sensation. 

“You know exactly what I want.” 

His teeth graze you gently. This is an exercise in restraint for you as much as it is him. Given any other night, you’d have his pants off by now, on his back, or behind you, but you refrain. You can’t squeeze him like you want to and that only frustrates you more, makes you heated and ruffled, makes you want more of his skin on you, around you, as if he could smother you. You want to merge your bodies. Your knees dig into his ribs.

He whispers something, too low and fast for you to catch it, but it ends broken and uneasy as if you’re touching something delicate within him. Bending back with one hand, Max reaches between your legs and cups you, one finger barely pressing the wet material back inside you. 

“Was this waiting for me under all those layers?” You nod as he pushes deeper, your mouth dropping open. He kisses your chin, before tucking his head under your jaw again. “No wonder you were burning up.” 

He inhales as if his face was pressed right up against your cunt, two fingers rubbing up and down over that sodden material. It scraps against your clit and it burns. “I could eat you. Just like this.”

“Max, c’mon–,”

“I know, baby, I know.” 

Smearing that pink little bow with the smell of you, he dips his hand under the line of your underwear, past your damp curls, and soothes your overheated sex by filling it with two thick fingers. You arch, brow furrowing, mouth open, fingers clamping down around his shoulders, arousal crawling up your spine, higher and higher the deeper he goes. Max likes the build up, the tease, it’s why his thumb only hovers above your clit, the heat doing half the work for him, as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the wet squelching almost embarrassing. Behind his hand, his hips swing in time. He groans, deep, into your ear, breathless. 

“Could come like this, baby, could come right like this.” 

The bend of his cock bumps the back of his hand as he thrusts against nothing. You hitch your pelvis up, opening wider, pussy easier within reach, and you forgo any teasing for him, hand sliding right past his boxers, molding your grip around him. He’s hot and leaking all over your fingers. 

“‘Ngh . . . shit, baby.” The arm holding him up shakes. You want to lick the salty precum but there has to be a rule about that, right? If you aren’t so desperate for that final fuck, you would have been a bit more careless. His fingers inside you press up into the places only he knows can send you into oblivion, as if grateful for tearing him apart. His wrist flicks quicker, faster into you, fingers plunging deeper, up to the knuckles, bouncing you as if you were on his cock. You match his speed with your own hand and Max hums, a dark sound verging on distressed. 

You bite your bottom lip, eyes drooping, the rocking motion scraping against your pleasure again and again, like a match scratching against the box one stroke at a time. “Maaax –,” He adds a third finger and you keen, high-pitched and desperate, the width stretching you out for a cock he won’t let you have. You grind against his fingers, the bounce knocking loose every sane thought in your head. 

Opening your eyes, you realize he’s been staring at your tits this whole time. His chest warm and glowing with sweat, his eyes track every bounce and jiggle, the cups of your bra putting them more on display than if you held them up yourself. 

“Where do you want it, darling?” His voice is strained, softer than it should be with your cunt sucking up his fingers. 

Max Phillips doesn’t do cutesy nicknames. Not during sex, not ever. Your his slut. His monsterfucker. Not – 

Your already unspooling mind struggles to grasp at darling before it slips away. 

His cock is throbbing against the palm of your hand. If you could see it, it would be flushed red, the vein at the base protruding. You pump him faster and his hips stutter. He’s so close and so are you. 

But he’s not talking about that. 

“On my tit, Max. Bite me on my tit.” 

With a groan that is all growl, all tension and feral hunger, his arm collapses and he sinks his weight against you. He manages to get his hand out, but yours is still trapped there, pinned between your tender cunt and his painfully hard cock. You writhe. “Max–,” 

His kiss against your lips is a starving sort of one, one that steals the breath from your lungs, wiping any lingering ache temporarily from your body. He licks the inside of your mouth, swallowing the moan that races from your throat into his. It’s all need, desire, a blistering familiarity that you didn’t realize existed between you two. He’s trying to say something with this kiss. 

He doesn’t give you long to read into it, as he pulls back, sinking more into his knees as he mouths the skin under your neck, above your clavicle bone, and in between the valley of your tits. His weight shifts off you, enough to pull your hand out. You arch, pushing your chest deeper into his mouth, using the back of his neck to pull you higher, he groans and licks, and you yank the tie of your bra behind your back. 

“Max, you can –,”

His hand claws at your cups, mouth consuming yours again, the ropes almost stinging your back as they are ripped so fast across your heated skin. Before you lie flat, his hand cups under you, fingers pressing into where the threads burned and forcing you to maintain that bend in your spine. 

The moment is coming. You can feel it. It’s different from a rising orgasm, or the first time he ever sucked your nipple into his mouth. Your lizard brain is sending off warning flares, but you ignore it once again. Those flares arc and bend, your arousal now fire hot. 

His tongue pressed flat, Max draws a long stripe of spit from under your breast, over the weight of it, and up your nipple, where he swirls it between his teeth. Whether Max Phillips was an ass or tits man depended on the day of the week, or whatever was blowing in the air, but he laved attention onto yours like they were the first pair he’d ever seen in his life. The skin on your other breast shines from where his fingers mold around it, smearing your wet juices all over your pebbled skin. He switches over and laps up that smell off you. 

He’s wavering, caught between drawing it out and doing it so instantaneously he might black out and miss the whole thing. Your heart racing, skin almost too sensitive, you feel like you might shudder apart.

“Max, please –,”

He chooses the second approach. 

Without warning, his fangs spring out and he latches onto the skin near the valley of your chest on your right breast. 

You yelp in surprise, pain and pleasure zigzagging like rough scissors from his bite out through the rest of your body.

Okay, that hurts. 

You gasp, bucking, yanking on his hair. “Baby, baby, gentler, be gentle–,”

He swallows and the ache lessens. Hot blood pools out of the spot where his fangs punctured you. It runs warm then cold, teasing like a feather, as it rolls down your stomach. It’s not a lot, but it's more than last time. It stains his chest too.

Slowly, that same sort of miraculous fog sinks down into your bones. The grip on his hair eases, softens, and soon you are petting him against you.

You swear you feel his fangs scrape your heart. 

“That’s good, Max, that’s so good.” Your eyes roll lazily in your head and you nuzzle his hair. “God, how does this feel so good?” 

As though determined to remind you he is more than just fangs, his hand pulls away from the mattress and slides back between your legs. You feel only one finger brush against your folds through your underwear – you’re almost disappointed, go back to using three, Max –

His finger plunges deep, deep inside of you, and you gasp, feet scrambling against the towel, as a swell of pleasure almost smothers you in an overwhelming wave. You nearly choke from the force of it. You were so overly sensitive but the gooey haze didn’t let you realize it until it was too late. You come hard, harder than you thought possible, seeing eons of galaxies and stars behind your eyes, with just one of his fingers inside you and his thumb distractedly circling your clit. 

He feels you gush around his hand, wetting his wrist, and with a moan you can feel in your ribs, he spills in his boxers, the spend running down his thigh and smearing on yours. 

Your entire body goes slack, as if someone had made all your bones disappear. His hips jerk slightly as if his orgasm is still trying to wring him dry before he stills and plucks his head from your chest, unplugging his fangs from the holes he made.

Blood immediately bubbles up from the wound and without his fangs there, it spills freely and violently over your tits, your ribs. The whiplash between your orgasmic high and a full-body weakness sends hot nausea swooping into your stomach and the room spins.

“M-m-ax,” you murmur, barely opening your mouth, your voice weak and thick as if stuffed with cotton balls. 

“Fuck, sorry –,” you can’t quite see him clearly as he moves and suddenly there’s a warmth over your chest, comforting and heavy. The blood trickles to a stop and you breathe deeply. The darkness of the room stabilizes as you fully open your eyes. The room spins but this time pleasantly. 

“Hmm, whoo, wow, ah, okay . . .”

You don’t realize he’s gotten off the bed until the mattress sags again and he’s cleaning you up with cold cotton balls. 

“So, I’m going to take that mindless babbling as a good thing.” He smiles gently, but he’s holding something back. He keeps his head low like he doesn’t want you to see his face.  

You wiggle your shoulders, as he delicately wipes you down. “What, you don’t wanna clean me up with your tongue? And why do you even use disinfectant – there’s no open wound.” You poke him in the shoulder with your toe. “And you didn’t even purr that time! I demand a refund!”

“Next time, okay?” 

You frown. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Just let me–,” 

You sit up, the dried blood pinching your skin, and he pulls away. “Max, what is it?” 

He pulls away so much, he’s on his feet by the dresser before you can touch him, the back of his arm tearing at his mouth to wipe it clean. Max is a lot of things but cold when you need aftercare is not one of them. 

“It’s nothing.” The line of his shoulders is taught, tense. But he cracks his neck and takes the Gatorade from the dresser. He finally sits back down on the bed in front of you, offering the bottle to you. You take it, unease mounting, your fingers brush his, but this time he doesn’t retreat. Instead, gently, his fingertips ghost over your wrist, down the fine hairs on your arm, drop from your elbow and settle delicately on the blue material covering the crease of your hip. Where your blood had pooled, wet, and stained the blue to a deep magenta. 

“I ruined your pretty underwear,” he says softly, forlorn. 

You move closer to him, your knee touching his hip, but you refrain from seeking out the warmth of his hands. 

“Max, I can get new ones, I don’t care about that. Please, talk to me. Did I do something wrong? Did I push you too far?”

His fingers flex around the towel, now also appropriately ruined. He shakes his head, more firmly this time. He snags his shirt off the floor, over his head, then moves towards the bedroom door.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m sticky. I’m gonna take a shower. You wanna come?”

The invitation, it’s something, an encouragement you genuinely feared he might not give. Maybe it’s not you he wants to part from. 

You didn’t enter into this for the emotional connection and neither did he. You have to remember that.

“Y-yeah. Of course.”

He invited you. He still wants you around. 

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[legolasofmirkwoodforest]

Modern AU Rhaenys and Corlys would be one of those couples who say, "He had an affair, but we pushed through it and came out stronger!" and you'd actually believe them.

[boredzillenial]

Oberyn Martell

🎃Anal

Oberyn teaches you a new way to enjoy your body.

Ezra

🎃Cockwarming

You and Ezra keep warm on the journey home

Max Phillips

🎃A/B/O

Max pays a visit during your first heat trying to “help”.

Deter Bravo

Threesome Drabble

[thelazyhero-ttums]

I love that movie!!!

Pedro Pascal was a feral vampire who tried to kill me and my family.

[popcornforone]

The Forever Solstice

A Max Phillips Fan Fic

First of all I’m sorry. I mucked up. I wanted this published on Wednesday for the Summer Solstice, but as usual life got in the way, so here we are now a few days late, but it’s time to see what Max wants to do on the longest day of the year. I’m really back into my vampires at the moment. (& yea I took that sun set photo)

Synopsis: As a new vampire you are missing your beach days in the summer with your friends, so Max decides to treat you to a night on the beach you deserve.

Word count: 3700

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18! PIV sex, sex outdoors, reader is a vampire, swearing, blood, mentions of transformation & other vampire lore(it’s Max after all) teasing, lots of fluff & romance, established relationships, violence & death are alluded to but not written about (again Max being a Vampire covers most of this) lots of detailed descriptions linked to all sorts of things.

As always all feed back is welcome, & thank you all for the read & the love, I always really appreciate it

Being a creature of the night does not have its good points during the summer. The heat & the Sun is constantly bearing down on you both, it will mean that you spend a lot of time sleeping in the dark to hibernate. However you do have Max Phillips to look after you & make sure that you are his vampire bride for all of eternity. The vampire life is lush, but this is first time you are actually regretting your decision to be turned by the love of your life, your soulmate, your forever.

Blood can keep your cool, but it doesn’t replace the joy of going to the beach with your friends & Max can see that in your eyes as you wake up each evening, desperate for one more day on the beach. Long gone are the beach walks, barbecues & drinking games of never have I ever which lead to you & your friends rushing to the sea to cool off. He wants to give you that joy of one more day on the beach, but he knows if you both even step towards it in daylight, that you will both be ashes within seconds, dust to dust, lying on the floor dead for the rest of time.

The summer solstice is here & he can think of no better time for him to treat you to this one event. An event that might not be exactly what you think it will be, but that will stay long in both your memories for as long as you are together which is now for forever & a day. The longest day of the year means that you can’t go out at all not until it gets to 9pm & even then it’s a risk. Knowing that, Max makes sure to wake you up at 8. He asked you to prepare. He asked you to put on your favourite human summer clothes. Something appropriate for a mystery occasion, something that will leave a little bit to the imagination. Over your swim wear you wear your mermaid shorts & long floaty flowing vest top. “Beautiful as always my forever” Max echos as he sees you emerge ready for this beautiful night. You both take your vampiric form & the two of you transform to fly towards your destination. You can’t help feel that this might be incredibly magical & romantic for the man who has no beating heart.

You present your human form on the beach at 10 pm. The waves are still warm & the Sands still crisp & course & it gets everywhere but you are not complaining, this is what you want. You’ve wanted this every morning so far when you’ve gone into your slumber to hide from the humidity & light. You wanted one more beach day, now be it at the twilight of night, which will only be for the next six hours. You are here, & Max is standing next to you. He already knows by the happy look on your face, that he has done a good job.

“Oooh Maxie really a beach day, seriously?” You ask & smile at him before you kiss his lips. You might both be dead but the warmth radiating between the two of you as you embrace, is exactly what you both need. “Anything for you, my forever” Max says as he unbuttons his shirt “I’m sorry you can’t come to the beach with your friends anymore. A small price to pay for eternity with me”. There is smirk on his face as he says that. “Also no sun burn, you won’t look like a lobster, no sticky sun lotion.” “But if we see it, we will catch fire & be a blaze” you say as you slide off your outer clothes so you can leap in the water in the swim wear Max insisted you wore. You dash to the sea & see Max is a little bit tentative. “Come on baby, it’s so nice & warm in here, your missing out”

Max in his swim shorts which he brought especially for today, as he has not needed any for the last 80 years, walks along the shore line watching you splash about. He adores your little giggle & smile, & sees the playfulness & lust for a long life, which drew him to you in the first place. Initially for a quick snack but this has now turned into a bond that is unbreakable. “Max come on, live a little,” you smirk & Max sighs. “Well it is you my forever, & this is your dusk so…” Max slowly enters the sea & shudders. “Thought you said this was warm?” He screeches “yes it is, it’s better the further in you get” you’ve swam back to him a little bit to encourage him. Eventually Max is floating & then starts to struggle. “I seem to have forgotten how to swim” he says as you splash him. “Seriously? How long has it been Max?” You always forget that Max has been a vampire longer that your grandparents have been alive you assume he was only turned a few years ago. So when he replies with “75 years baby” you look shocked. Your 120 year old partner doesn’t look a day over 35 & hasn’t for 85 years. “Well maybe we can just wade & paddle Max, don’t want you to drown do we.”

Max admires your body as you get out of the water. “My my, it’s like looking at a classic Bond girl” he jokes as your body glistens in the salt from the sea. “Does that make you my Daniel Craig?” You smirk as you hold his had & walk along the shore line, the warm sand feeing crisp & getting stuck in your toes. “Oooh no you no I’m more Sean, you don’t mess with the original, you know I was at the London Premier of Dr. No?” Max states. Just holding his hand walking along the beach talking trivial stuff makes you happy. It’s a normal small thing, that okay yes you do often, but not having to hide & just being you & Max, you swear your black icy heart has started pumping again. So much of your early dating was dusk walks, dark Forrest’s, illuminated by the wisps of the twilight sky to protect him from the vicious sun. This moment along the beach reminds you of just that.

Eventually you reach a little shack which is closed for the night but being a creature of the night, Max can easily transform to get inside. You’ve not quite learnt this skill yet, you only recently master turning into a bat for a long period of time, this makes travel so much easier. Max opens the door once he is back in human form “you are invited in” he jokes. It’s usually you that says that when Max comes back from a feast or a hunt. He always jokes that he’s not Kiefer in the lost boys when you do. You chuckle at the irony of this but then your eyes dilate. Max opens the fridge door in the shack where there are fours rare stakes, oozing, looking so inviting. Your mouth salivating desperate for a taste. He’s slowly easing you into more blood for your thirst, but this is a treat. These steaks are fresh & are just begging to be devoured. He sees the frenzied look in your eyes. “I told you tonight would be special.”

You both eat your first steaks like you��ve not eaten anything for months, like it’s your last ever meal. It hardly touches the sides as you chomp away. But your second you both savour every bite. The texture, the flesh, the way it has small residues of blood seeping from it. Each mouthful is a delight as you sit outside the shack on a bench, eating the meat, each ounce feeding your hunger & tasting sublime. “Max I didn’t know steak could taste this good completely rare.” You lick your lips to get every little scrap & taste every bit of residue. Max beams back at you. “Midnight feasts are still good even as adults” he playfully responds before beaming at you. His hand cradles your cheek his eyes dark like the star filled sky. “I suppose I’m going to have many more nights of feasting to come” you reply before fluttering your eyes at him.

As his lips take yours, his left hand wanders from your neck, tracing the bite marks he left to transform you, still there 10 months later. Almost fully healed, but will always feel a little tender, knowing this is where your mortal soul left your body. Once his fingers have done circling they move to your bikini top, cupping your breast. Still slightly damp from your swimming escapades. Your nipple hardening as he teases it. “Max…” you softly gasp, feeling so aroused at his teasing & playful nature tonight. His large palms working your body, knowing exactly what makes you rive & what will make you beg for more. “I think we may have to make this a yearly tradition” he says as he pulls you into his lap on the bench you are both sitting on. As you straddle him he slips the gusset of your bikini bottoms to the side, you can feel him hardening in his swim shorts bellow you.

“Max Phillips enjoying the summer solstice? I never thought I’d see the day” you say as you lift up slightly while he takes his penis out of his swim shorts ready for you to enjoy. You place one hand on his shoulder while the other strokes his length leisurely, making sure you experience everything on this special night. “We’ll love makes you do crazy things my forever, & with you i feel young at heart again.” He stokes your back as you are lowered onto him & your groan rings out across the empty beach, with nothing to bounce it off but the night sky & your desire for each other. “Oooh what did I ever do to deserve you Max?” “Be you” he replies “I never went searching for my forever & then I stumbled upon you & I knew it was meant to be”

As you rock into each other as you straddle Max, small moans escape your mouth. You’ve never been vocal while having sex, but tonight being out in the open, with not a souls in sight you say a few more things, while Max’s attends to your needs, pleasuring your clit & telling you about the eternity that you will both face together. “Max forever with you is not enough” you say, panting & grinding away, feeling every pulse inside you, knowing that when he gets going it’s going to be really insatiable. “I know darling, imagine how bad forever would be if we didn’t have each other” he pulls you in closer as he becomes more rapid. His fangs start to appear, those Carmel eyes get darker, almost black, as he scans your body with such detail, noticing every micro bead of sweat & sea drop off you, as you moan in pleasure. He peppers your neck with kisses, a neck that for 2 years was his primary source of food, but he found you more delicious than any blood he could slurp from you. It really was like you were made for each other.

“No man has ever made me feel as good as you Max” you can really feel Max picking up his speed, hitting the spot, making your walls flutter, making the stimulation & pleasure almost too much, you know it’s happening soon as he holds your chin. “Well I’m not a man baby, that’s why they can never live up to me” he says before biting into your bottom lip, feeling the passion in your kiss as you lock together. His hand running through strands of your long damp hair, caressing your back afterwards & getting you ready for the climax he believes you deserve.

“Oooh fuck Max, Oooh fuck fuck FUUUUCCCCKKKKK” vampiric speed is always insane, but when Max is almost at the point of cuming he ramps it up even further. Powerful vibrators wish they could be 20% as good as this. Feeling his penis pound you furiously making you clamp around him, always sends you over the edge & tonight is no exception. This may not be in a coffin or the master bedroom of Max’s mansion, but it still has the same effect. Waves crashing doesn’t even do it justice. You are both swarming together, orgasming almost in unison, as his nails dig into your hips while he growls are the desire escaping his lips. The creature of the night desperately after a release that it finds. Desire & passion overflowing & both making you fall even deeper in love with one another.

You still, & so does Max, your foreheads touching breathing heavily, both unable to speak before he pulls you in for one more kiss. He hold your face as you explore each others mouths & just know that this feeling will never get old & neither of you will ever be willing to let this go. “Forever” you say in unison. Your bond strong, proving you are undead souls mates, embracing a few minutes more your head resting on his chest. Still a weird sensation, hearing each other breathe & pant desperately trying to calm down after a moment like that, & not see his heart pump. You’re still so new to this, that at times you really do forget that you are now dead. “My words are true, my forever. every summer solstice we will celebrate our love on the beach, for as long as eternity will allow us.” His next kiss is sweet & the glance in his eyes when you break is one of a puppy dog, desperate to please you & make you happy.

It’s 2am when you reach back to your items that you left on the beach when you arrived. Still there as it’s so early, no one has attempted to take them. You slip your shorts & top back on & Max buttons up his shirt which was laying over a little cool bag. “I can’t believe you went out & got summer clothes just for tonight Max, the effort is appreciated & I’ve really enjoyed my night on the beach” you reply. “Well I got the shorts, but I didn’t buy the top” he says winking at you. You know full well that there’s an unfortunate soul out there somewhere, who Max at the minimum drank guilty from looking his that face this second, & that is the sensible option. You know that look to well, your surprised someone’s not been reported missing if your honest. “Well however you came across that palm tree shirt, the original owner had good taste” you pick up a towel to dust some sand off your feet before putting your shoes on, you know your probably going to have to transform to get home soon.

“Speaking of taste…” Max smoulders as he opens up the cool bag. “I thought you deserved something cool & sweet to end our night on.” There it is. Sitting in the small box sounded by ice & blood bags, are two bloodsicles. “Oh my god Max. I thought you said we didn’t have enough blood to make more of these” you say as you reach in & slowly take yours out, sniffing it & your eyes darkening in an instant. Blood naturally restores you to your best form after drinking, but bloodsicles are the ultimate indulgence. You have to be so careful with you drink from the human to save enough of it, for you to turn them into these icy Delights. Max’s smile at you means there is probably someone hypnotised in his basement giving him a constant supply, that you don’t know about. But that’s a discussion you can have with him another day.

Your tongue lazily trails across it. The coolness making you shiver from the ice. But then the feeling of the iron in the blood reaches your taste buds & your try so hard not to just slurp the whole thing down. “It’s A negative?” You questions. Max has been teaching you the different types of blood & which are best for quick feeds or sustainable, there’s a lot more to this vampire stuff than you ever really thought there would be. “Yes, correct, I’m impressed” he says as he walks up to you & starts licking his own. “You really are taking all this stuff seriously, I’m very happy you said that” “I mean…” you interrupt “… you did say I had forever to learn this but why wait, also the quicker I do, the quicker we can take it in turns to hunt & feast, the stronger a vampire I will become, & soon we will be invincible” you cackle jokingly. Be it in human, transitioning or as a young vampire, you have always teased Max about him wanting the world & becoming an invincible force of nature. It’s always been your little joke.

Each lick of the bloodsicle makes you feel revitalised. Feeling it cool you down, making your thirsts quenched. It really is a delight, almost as delicious as those steaks. Max really has through of everything tonight, to give you a night you will never forget. You feel fantastic, like you have been reborn. Your summer blues of hiding away in the dark have been worth it for this beautiful night. You savour the last lick, not letting any drop of blood go to waste, as it trickles its way through your body. Your lips now ruby red & plump & inviting. Max takes the opportunity to take yours one last time on the beach. His own scarlets, meeting yours as he holds you tight & close, your bodies merging, feeling the love on his lips, the smoulder from his gaze before you both just shut your eyes, enjoying every second & making it count.

Your embrace is interrupted by an alarm Max had set on his phone, which he looks down on. It warns him it’s an hour until sunrise. He tucks your hair behind your ears & sighs. “I’m sorry I can’t give you a proper day at the beach, but I hope tonight was fun, my forever” he says as he holds your hand & you both start getting ready to transform to head home. “Max tonight you have given me a memory I will never forget. Of all the summer solstices I’ve ever taken part in, this will be the one I treasure the most because you were willing to risk it all for me, just to make me smile” you reply before resting your forehead against his. You both just stand there in silence, breathing hearing the waves crash & the sound of a few early birds waking up before the sun rise.

“Forever my love” Max eventuality says “I’m glad I did this justice.” He tightly holds your hand before looking you up & down. “I’m ready” you say looking at him proudly, as you both transform & travel back to the mansion. It doesn’t take long but the journey is always dangerous if either of you are spotted. You reach his house & go inside before the sun rises, safe in the knowledge you have both got back without being turned to ash. You head off to go get changed when Max takes your hand & takes you upstairs. “I have one more surprise, my forever.” He says as he takes you into the attic.

There is a small sky light in the attic which is boarded up so there are no accidents, however what is new in the attic is a periscope that is leading into it. “Come take a look my love, let’s finish tonight properly” you tentatively look through it & see the sea on the horizon, before the blacks, purples & blues of the night sky are slowly replaced by orange, yellow & a glorious sun. Instantly you hiss at it but you can’t feel its heat, & it’s not touching you. The hiss was a reflex reaction. You’re safe from the thing that could kill you instantaneously, & Max has created a device that will allow you to watch all the sun rises going forward. “Max this is so beautiful, come have a look” you beacon him over but he stays still. “Oooh this is for you my forever, it’s taken my 3 weeks to instal this & make sure it’s safe. I’ve seen 21 sun rises in that time, & each one has been beautiful” you smile & return to glancing at the beautiful horizon that you had spent the solstice on.

Max wraps his arms around your waist & Rests his head on your right shoulder. “I say they have all been beautiful but I know for sure that the one you are looking at right now is the most beautiful of all” he whispers, words that make you melt, which sound so soothing. “Why is that Max, how can you be so sure?” You reply stepping away from the periscope. “Because you’re the one who saw it, & your smile is the most beautiful thing in the world & I don’t need anything to see how big it is right now”. You blush & hug Max, a slight tear trickling down your face. “My forever” he says before leading you out of the attic & taking you straight to bed, to consummate your first summer solstice night, as Max Phillips Vampire Bride.

[suckinitup]

I love how all the characters are, even when their motivations are good, still Rat Bastards. arthur? Wants to find a cure for vampires and bring peace to two warring species. he also mega ate some dudes to death. Emizel? licherally vibing. protecting his brother and his friends. wouldnt give up one of HIS lives just on the off chance it would hurt his favourite weird cat. he’s also mega ate some dudes to death. shilo. deacon is kind / neutral to people who dont screw him over and he clearly prioritizes what he thinks is the wellbeing of his people over his dislike/apathy of whoever’s in charge. hes here to keep the masquerade, give convenient second chances, and have the coolest vampire horse in the world. He’s also a cop.

[for-a-longlongtime]

YAAAYYY bring on all the Rockford fic!! As someone who as a kid grew up with Anne Rice books and lots of other vampire/werewolf/etc lore, this has me so excited @gemmahale!

Oops new WIP! Will anything past this happen? I don’t know. 😅

But I like this premise, at least!

A rash of homicides have been appearing around the city - first a janitor found in a garbage dumpster, then an accountant washed up on the lake shore, then five, six, seven more Jane and John Does are in the morgue. All of them exsanguinated with wounds on their necks, wrists, and in some cases, inner thighs. But there’s not an easily discernable pattern - the bodies appear at random locations, random times, random states of decomposition. Nothing about it makes it seem like they’re connected.

Vanessa Richards, however, thinks she knows what the answer is: vampires.

Not because she’s one of the blood-sucking bastards, of course. She’s just…got similar proclivities. Where traditional vampires prefer vodka for their bloody cocktails, she tends to prefer tequila. She’d much rather sink her teeth into the juicy flesh of cactus fruit rather than the bloody flesh of a mammal. She doesn’t turn into a vampire bat when she wants, she becomes a much larger fruit bat. She’s a fruit-vampire, a small subset of the vampire population that only appear in incredibly infrequent numbers to unsuspecting sires. (Something something something genetics, okay? There aren’t a lot of people that are working on the genetic differences between VAMPIRES when there’s more prevalent diseases plaguing the human population. Sheesh.)

When Detective Tim Rockford, her supervisor, starts poking into the cases and getting close to uncovering the local coven of vampires, she has one shot to protect her kind - and that’s Max Phillips, Sales Director at [insert punny/canon? company name] and one of the heads of the local coven. And they haven’t been on speaking terms since…well, since they broke up and he took the position with the coven.

She has to work with her now-ex to protect the coven, even though they’ve cast her from their numbers as a paraiah for her preferences.

….something something something. Plot happens. 😂 I lost my train of thought.