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carusolikey · 1 year ago

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The Blue Hour

a Max Phillips & Bloodsucking Bastards FanFic

Chapter 2: Oh - Hi, Mark. How's Your Sex Life?

After Max took Mr. Rochester and held him hostage, he’s decided to make good on his threat - but not without playing with his food first! Teasing out his secrets, it’s a wonder we don’t keep him on a shorter leash. Oh, these wicked games, Max - if he loses, he’ll probably just put what’s owed on his tab. Although, to his credit, this rakish fellow does know there’s a time and a place to be cruel and a time to be kind. Let’s just say, in the words of Fiona Apple, he’ll let you use his skin, to bury secrets in - things are definitely going to get a little hot and heavy in here. Reader beware, you're in for graphic fare!

Pairing: Max Phillips of Bloodsucking Bastards x afab!fem!reader

Rating: Explicit / NSFW 18+ (No Minors)

Author’s Note: I wrote this piece during the month of April 2024 - Adenomyosis Awareness Month, and the idea came to me during March 2024 (Endometriosis Awareness Month). This will not have any type of pregnancy kink, but will touch on infertility of OC due to the aforementioned; canon for this story is also that Vampires are infertile - there will be no Renesmé. OC is intended to be around the same age as Max, reader’s choice up or down, but no age gap. Because older afab/fem lovers are sexy - we drink and we know things.

Warnings: This will continue to be a blanket coverage of this point forward.

A bit of rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration - P in V, oral [m + f receiving]), food play, 18+ only content, able bodied fem afab reader, alcohol consumption, non-gendered pet names, fem can be carried and has hair - though length is not mentioned, consensual "bondage", some use of y+n - but not explicitly, though consensuality is implied and intended through actions and reactions, no protection used for Vampire reasons TBD (be wise and always use protection, this is fiction). Did attempt to stay away from gendered pronouns and nicknames, although did use the word woman, 3 times throughout the entire piece (not fully published yet) referring to OC. Discussion of history of endo / adeno, and future chapter will mention previous relationship / SA; there will also be Vampire hunting, murdering, and blood….sucking bastards.

Wordcount: 13k + a few, but who's counting?

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The next evening, when I woke up, I started receiving a bunch of texts from Max. Just one right after the other. By the time I realized he had been sending them, I had 40 new texts from him.

Thirsty much? I scoffed.

And then I clicked on the text thread and gasped, covering my mouth. Oh no.

Each text was a picture of Max outside of a specific apartment with a huge grin, either with a single person or a whole family, holding Mr. Rochester and variously captioned, “Doesn’t belong to them!” - “Not these people, either!” - “This guy will take it if we can’t find the owner!”

Scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling - the Cullins family, old Mr. Feeney, little Old Mrs. White whose husband just passed away last year, the Partridge family with all of their little kids. This was a nightmare!

I mean, eventually, I will probably laugh at this, but right now I could sink into the ground. Groaning, I buried my head under the covers and practiced mindful breathing - 8 seconds in, hold for 8, breathe out for 8. Camped under the covers, I had just started to find my calm, when my phone gave off another singular glow, “Just wanted to let you know that I was thinking about you. All day.” From Max.

Okay. Heart rate increasing, but in a good way. I can work with this. I sent him a non-committal gif of Kathryn Hahn in WandaVision, throwing a sassy wink, and tossing her head back in an adorable giggle. Yeah. Yeah. That’s good, I think. Or I still have things to work on in therapy? Six of one, half dozen of the other! Then I winked and tossed my head back in an adorable giggle.

These pictures of Max with Mr. Rochester and various people throughout the building continued on until the next evening, and the evening after that. To say that I was not a fan, would be an understatement. I persevered and honestly, gave some of my best narrative performances of sexual tension and duress while recording.

The author reached out to me, letting me know they were very happy with my work, and that they would be adding a male narrator for that character’s chapters. To be honest, I was a little relieved. It could be challenging to find the right pitch and timbre for masculine voices. But even more importantly, I was a bit of a wreck. I needed a break.

Would it be fair to call what Max was doing psychological torture? I wasn’t convinced that he was doing it intentionally, and my confused attraction to him technically isn’t his fault. My own hormones and body have been so out of whack since my insomnia set in, it would hardly be fair to place the enigma of my intricate chemical fluctuations on him.

Why am I thinking about this so much? You know exactly why you’re thinking about this so much - he has a name, and it’s not Max. I physically and mentally waved my thoughts away, as I poured 160º F water over two bags of Yerba Mate in one mug.

Strolling around my apartment, I spotted my shake weight, and set down my cup of tea. Perfect - now lefty can become a lean, mean, orgasm machine! I picked up the shake weight with my left hand and started shaking it - almost immediately, there was a knock at the door. Um, no one knocks on my door without an invite, I thought to myself. Peeking through the peephole, I saw Max, who gave a wave.

Weird, he must’ve just seen my shadow cross the peephole. I opened the door with my right hand, shake weight still absentmindedly shaking in my left hand.

His eyes widened and his grin pulled up to one side, revealing his dimple, “I’m not sure exactly what’s happening here, but I like it!”

Taking notice of my left hand, I realized that I was shaking the weight directly towards my mouth in a rather hilariously obscene manner which, to be fair, seems like an intentional design flaw.

Putting the weight down immediately and plastering my best customer service smile on my face, I greeted Max, “How may I help you today?”

“I like the sound of that.” he took a deep breath in, “As much as I’d like to seek your help, I’m actually here to provide,” he emphasized.

“Oh, indeed?” I stepped back as he leaned against the doorframe, getting a bit closer to me, and I put my left hand on my hip.

“Indeed.”

From behind his back, he pulled out Mr. Rochester.

“Seems this fellow has no home. Looks like you can either adopt him or send him to the pound.”

The way he said that with a sneer was downright dirty, and I gave him a look letting him know it.

“BUT –” interjecting before I could, “I was wondering what you were doing this evening.”

“Well, I did just get off the phone with the author of the series I’ve been narrating, and it seems my part is done for the time being.” I said, giving a shrug. “I’m between projects at the moment.”

“Interesting, and coincidentally perfect timing. How do you feel about going to a midnight showing of a terrible movie?”

“That’s not a particularly alluring invitation, I think I’m gonna have to hot pass that one.”

“Hot pass?”

“Yeah. Hot pass. Not a days-old hard pass that’s been left out, getting dry and crusty. A hot pass served straight from the oven, farm to table, I didn’t need to sit on that at all, it’s ready when you are, made to order, HOT PASS.”

“When you say it that way, how could one resist?”

“And yet, that’s what a hot pass in essence is - I’m resisting, Max. Hot. Pass.”

“I promise you, it’s a cult classic! The theater serves booze, there will definitely not be any children there - if you don’t have fun, I’ll owe you.”

My ears pricked up. Owing. Interesting. Sounds like I can’t lose. I raised my eyebrows in deliberation. What do I do now? Cold Take? No, that’s not the opposite of a Hot Pass - I’ll have to work that out later.

“I accept!” I grabbed my spring jacket, my little purse wallet, and my keys.

“Excellent,” in his excitement, Max gave me a kiss on the cheek as I passed by him on the way out of my apartment, causing me to blush and turn around suddenly, walking directly back into him. He was a wall of a man, and as I started to fall backwards, he caught hold of me by the waist, steadying me.

“I would love to not be the reason for another personal injury to you,” he said, chuckling.

Startled by the sudden upheaval of being swept up into his arms upon impact, I found myself resting my right arm on his left, and gripping his tie tightly in my left hand. He appeared undisturbed, and I noticed that he’d dressed up in another three-piece suit, for this spontaneous date? His silver-gray button-up struggled at the seams under his muscles, yet appeared to move fluidly with him. It was certainly a well tailored suit, I thought as my jaw slackened, eyes moving to the muscles tensing in his neck as he pursed his lips, preparing to speak.

“We’ve got a movie to get to.” His eyes moved from my face, down to his tie and he smirked as he looked at my hand, clutching desperately at him. Raising his eyebrow, he said, “Save that for later, Sweetness.”

I let go immediately - and he let go slowly, gently.

“Oh my god,” I shook my head, and led the way to the elevators, realizing as I passed the hall mirror that I was significantly underdressed compared to Max.

Wearing my favorite classic baby tee with a pic of Jake Ryan from 16 Candles on it that says, “I ❤️ Jake Ryan”, a monochromatic gray striped peasant skirt, and some white leather Doc creeper loafers, I asked him, “Before we go - do I need to change? I just threw this on, and did not give a second’s thought to just leaving with you immediately as is. I kind of feel like an asshole, because you’re –” I gestured to his sharp ensemble.

He shrugged, “I think you look great –” pausing to look me over completely, his eyebrow going up slightly as his mouth opened slightly, letting his tongue stick out.

“But I would never tell you what to do.” Recovering somewhat quickly, he gave me a wink before hitting the down button.

I tried asking more questions about the movie on the way down, but Max would not budge, verbally. Physically, he managed to get closer and closer to me, intoxicating me with his pheromones yet again. It was a short walk to the dingy theater, where the midnight showing was of a movie called, The Room, which I’d thought was a movie starring Brie Larsen, but Max assured me - was not, in this instance.

The acting was terrible. The story was confusing, and maybe a bit upsetting, the sets were certainly a choice. It was absolutely hilarious, I spent most of the movie laughing out of pure surprise and delight at the absurdity. I could feel Max looking over at me in the dark, and smiling every time I laughed, pleased that I was enjoying myself.

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As we exited the movie, Max squeezed my hand and asked, “So, what did you think? Are you owed anything for this jaunt?”

“Well. I will admit, Max, true to your word - there were no children present.” I gave him a sneaky little smile, as he gave me a surprised look, “BUT - but, I will also say that I did really have a lot of fun. The movie was absolutely ridiculous, and I’m sure I’ll be quoting it for years to come.”

“Oh, HIIIIII, Doggy!” Max said to me, leaning in.

“Oh, HAI MARK,” I quoted back to him, as he kissed me on the cheek, igniting a new bloom of blush on my neck and cheeks.

“You know there’s more that I want to show you?” My face mimicked a question mark, “Ah, yes! Keep that look of wonderment, for in the basement of this theater,” I scowled at that, and he continued a little slower and calmly, “is a museum, called the Museum of Bad Art.”

“Hmm? What’s that?” I was confused, but intrigued.

“All around this area are different satellite locations of the Museum of Bad Art, and one of them is located here. It’s really terrible art that they’ve collected from local art shows, from Good Will, the Salvation Army, estate sales, just from anywhere they can find it, and it’s stunning in its horrificness.”

Giving him a determined look, I declared, “Bring it on.”

Giving me back an equal amount of sass, Max proclaimed, “Oh, it’s already been broughten.”

Once we got down to the basement, it was hard to know where to go first, there was just so much.

Luckily, we came across an easy one - something that could almost have been done by one of the masters, but - maybe not.

“Max, tell me your thoughts on this painting.”

Max stood very still, his arms crossed, and then started nodding slowly, “Yes, I like this one a lot. Cat with overflowing cornucopia, overflowing with lush fruits, I really like how the artist uses the light to highlight –”

With his intense gesturing and the pause, I took the opportunity to help him out, “To highlight how the cat’s face is too small to be his face? To be the face that goes with that head?”

“Hmmm,” He groaned appreciatively, and then pointed at the painting, “I think that’s it. And I love it.”

We came to the next painting, an old woman in a blue dress in a field of flowers, and Max asked, “What feeling, or sense of ennui are you deriving from this work?”

“Well, Max, my general sense of ‘ennui,’ as it were, and I’d like to thank you for using that word,” he tipped an imaginary hat and did a little bow, mouthing the words ‘you’re so welcome’, “is a little bit confused, because while it appears this older woman is skipping through this field of flowers, she doesn’t appear to be happy about it. She’s got a very placid face, but not in a good way.”

“Hmm, yes. I see that. I find the bright yellow sky to be particularly upsetting. What’s going on back there?”

“Maybe she set something on fire, and she’s doing a crazed skip away from it?”

“I think Grandma’s not cooking pot pie for Grandpa anymore.”

We both hemmed and shook our heads over that tragedy. Poor Grandpa!

The next painting we came to was titled, Sad Monkeys and Woman, but they also had the title in French, which sounded even better, Singes Tristes et Femme. Sadly, the painter was anonymous, and no credit could be given where credit was due.

“Shall we break this down?” Max asked with tempered enthusiasm, making sure that I had a hold of his arm.

“If we shan’t, I’ll be terribly disappointed.” I leaned in to whisper - matching his intensity.

He nodded, “Excellent. Ladies first.” He gestured towards the painting.

“Well, I don’t understand the need for all of the broccoli florets, but if we can look past that, it seems that the monkeys are sad, and the lady is in a circus tent - but why are the monkeys sad, and why is the woman inside the tent without the monkeys?”

Sighing, furrowing his brow, Max gave it a moment and then replied, “I think it’s a medical circus tent. They’re waiting for test results, and it’s probably not going to be good news.”

A lightbulb went off in my head, “OR, what if, like the saying, ‘Not my circus, not my monkeys’ they just got their 23 and Me results back and it’s her circus –”

“But not her monkeys?” Max finished my thought, and we turned to each other and both said, “SAD MONKEYS!” and then made fake sad faces at each other.

We passed by a particularly disturbing painting of Joan Crawford, and I gasped, “Oh, Joan! What have they done to you?”

“Derivative.” Was Max’s passing response.

Kismet, it seems, brought us to a final portrait that appeared to depict none other than Molly Ringwald herself.

“What would you say is happening here?” I asked Max, gesturing towards the painting.

“I’d say that Molly Ringwald is battling a little cherub baby angel over one shoulder, and some sort of Mrs. Doubtfire inspired crone over the other shoulder.”

“Aha - the recurring duality of good versus evil, and of course, humanity represented by - Samantha, from 16 Candles?”

“Naturally.” Max nodded, “Who better? Although, I wonder if you would call it coincidence or serendipity that you’re wearing a 16 Candles shirt and we’re happening upon art with the very same subject matter?” We started to walk out of the museum and the theater, heading back towards the apartment complex.

Passing him an eye roll, “Coincidence, definitely. Although, I didn’t take you as someone who would consider anything serendipitous,” I looked at him curiously.

He shrugged, giving a snarky look back at me, but also kissed my hand, “I take what life hands me. Sometimes more.” He smirked and gave a chuckle, “Whatever happens, happens, sometimes - I think life has a way of surprising you. But listen - do you really love Jake Ryan?”

I burst out laughing, “What?! He’s a fictional character, and from a movie that has not aged well, at that.”

“Why do you have that shirt then?”

“I mean –” I shook my head a little, “it’s the persistent idea of Jake Ryan. Sitting cross legged, kissing over a flaming birthday cake? Yes, please. But, also - the one. The one who doesn’t forget your birthday, who sees you in a sea of others, who treats you like you matter - the fantasy of being someone to another person. To have passion that is reciprocated. Jake Ryan is a state of mind.”

By that point, we’d reached the entrance of the apartment building. Max paused, taking in what I’d just said.

“I’m sorry - that was a lot, and again, it’s just that over-romanticized ideal. You know, imprinted teenage crush.” I’d started apologizing, taking Max’s silence as a sign that I’d said too much, been too much.

“Hey, hey,” He shook his head and started rubbing my shoulders, “No, it’s a really nice idea. 80’s movies affecting the romantic interests of people over the years, how they react, behave, that’s absolutely valid. How it affected you personally? I mean - I’m happy to hear all about that.”

“Okay,” I smiled, “What about you? Was there any movie that stuck with you over the years of idealized 80s romance?”

Max paused, thinking for a moment, “Say Anything - I thought I could be Lloyd Dobler,” I frowned, “I know, I know. He’s a little, stalky. But he looked so cool holding up that stereo, playing Peter Gabriel. I needed to be him. Or, my younger self needed to be him.”

I nodded, smiling and encouraging him to open up more, but a cold chill ran through me as the temperature dropped, and I involuntarily shivered in my light jacket. Noticing, Max wrapped his arms around me.

“Let’s get you inside.”

We made our way up to the 4th floor on the elevator, and Max walked me to my door. “Thank you so much for tonight, Max.”

“Um, we’re not done.” His features hardened, and he gave me a stern look.

Taken aback, I responded, “I’m sorry?”

“We’re not done - or do you not remember that I brought back the ‘lost device’ tonight?” his hardened features smoothed into something playful, yet foreboding.

“We’re going to figure out what it does.”

My stomach sank, and so did my vagina - both feeling like they had just gone down a really high hill on a rollercoaster. To be honest, I couldn’t decide if I was horrified or excited.

This evening with Max had been exactly what I needed and wanted. We vibed so well with each other, and he made me feel so comfortable being myself, even when he was walking around looking like he did in that suit. I bit my lip a little too hard while thinking about it, and winced, as I tried to think about how I was going to come clean about Mr. Rochester. But what about - ? No. Not tonight. Fuck off ‘what ifs’ and ‘what abouts’. I deserve this. I was resolved.

“Very well,” I said nonchalantly as I put my key in the door lock - Max stood close behind me, putting both hands on my hips, he leaned his head down and sniffed my neck, while the hairs on my body all stood up. For a brief moment, I froze there with my eyes closed, feeling the strength of his hands on my pelvic bones. Until he took one hand off me, and pushed the door open in front of me.

Shaken out of my fog, I walked forward into the apartment, dropping off my keys, wallet, and jacket near the front door. I turned around, and asked if I could get him anything to drink.

“Just you,” he grinned ferociously, and bit his lip.

I unintentionally laughed nervously, “Okay - I’m assuming you don’t need a glass with that?”

He chuckled and shook his head. Picking up Mr. Rochester, he handed it to me, “Are you ready to get to work?”

The way he said it was commanding, strict, the type of question that deserved the exact answer I gave, “Sir, yes sir.”

When he heard that, he stood up a little taller, a little straighter, his pants leaned a little bit more to the left, as he took off his jacket, unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves, keeping his tie and vest on, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

As I held Mr. Rochester in one hand, Max reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. I pouted a little, confused as to why he would need to check his phone right now.

“You said that this might be a bluetooth compatible microphone for recording things on TikTok, so I paired it with my phone.” Oh no. My face dropped. “Oh yes, yes I did. Let’s see if it works. Why don’t you sing into it for me?”

“What should I sing?”

“You can sing whatever you like.”

I felt Mr. Rochester start to buzz lightly, and I had a terrible, wonderful idea for which song to sing, but I knew that if I did it, there would be no turning back.

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Picking up my phone, I connected to my speakers, flicked on Joan as Police Woman’s cover of Whatever You Like and started singing into Mr. Rochester.

“Stacks on deck, Patrón on ice. We can pop bottles all night. Baby, you can have whatever you like. I said you could have whatever you like,” Max’s mouth dropped into an open grin, mesmerized as I moved my body to the music. He turned Mr. Rochester up, as I dragged it down my body, “Late night sex, so wet, you’re so tight. I’ll gas up the jet for you tonight. Baby, you could go wherever you like. I said, you could go wherever you like.”

But then I bent my right elbow and yelped, holding it in pain. Fuck. Did this have to happen right now? I can play through it, yeah. I’ll just play through it. I lamented that I might not be able to have the necessary grip for all the things I’d been wanting to grip all night long. I opened my eyes, and Max’s crotch was in my face, definitely available, but he immediately bent down on the floor next to me.

“I’m going to fix this for you.”

He lifted his hand to his mouth, and with much larger incisors than I remember seeing (have I not been doing a good job of paying attention to him ?), he bit into his finger, and then removed my bandage. Taking his bloody finger, he rubbed it all over my bruised and slowly healing elbow. As he rubbed his finger over it, the bruise started to fade, the scars began to disappear, and in a matter of moments the whole area looked as though I had never injured it. I took a closer look at it, then bent my elbow up and down, back and forth, and it was completely fine.

I looked up at Max, completely baffled. “What just happened? What did you do?”

“I could make you forget that you ever fell and hurt yourself but, I’m not going to risk the brain scramblies. I want you to know the truth.”

“Good, I’d love to be privy to the inner workings of your life.”

He chuckled, “It’s a little bit more complicated than that,” he bared vampire fangs at me, and I scooted back, “Oh! No, no. I’m not going to hurt you,” his face looked so sad, as he reached his hand out, palm open towards me. “It’s basically a medical condition - extreme iron deficiency and sun allergy.”

I mean, I was definitely familiar with medical conditions - I was living a version of vampirism already, in constant darkness. Taking a beat, I decided to hear him out and nodded for him to continue, taking his hand.

“It happened on a business trip to Staten Island, I was hanging out with some clients at a club, showing them the area –”

“Staten Island? Really?” I interrupted.

“Yeah, you’d be surprised,” He seemed a bit squeamish about it, which was a first, “Anyway… this extremely crusty looking, yet very stately, oddly attractive fella - sounded like he was from an older European country, super weird, wearing a New Jersey Devil’s hat. Well, he interrupted our drinks with clients and turned me, out of nowhere. Afterwards, I never received any guidance for my unholy transition, I just had to figure it out on my own.”

“Oh my goodness.”

I clutched his hand tighter, searching his face for a signal, trying to figure out what he needed from me. He seemed so down, and he had done so much for me, so I decided to give back to him by opening up and being honest with him.

“Max?”

“Hmm?”

“I want to open up to you as well, and in the spirit of honesty, I have a confession.”

His face immediately perked up as he prepared to hear what I had to say to him.

“I know what that device is that I was singing into,” he bit his lip and raised his eyebrows, in what we’ll all pretend was surprise. “It’s Mr. Rochester.”

Then he actually was bewildered, and furrowed his brow when asking, “Mr. Rochester?? Like Jane Eyre? Charlotte Brontë? Wife locked in the attic?”

“One and the same,” I said sincerely, “He’s my vibrator, but you should know, it’s a friends with benefits situation, it’s not serious.”

“WELL! I mean,” he seemed exasperated, yet continued quite calmly, “I’m really glad you opened up to me. I like the honesty. Would you ever want to have a threesome with Mr. Rochester and of course, myself?”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, “How very Eyes Wide Shut of you! Yes, I think that would be something to pencil in. We’ll just have to check Mr. Rochester’s schedule, he’s very, very busy.”

Max gave me moon eyes, “Of course. And if you need someone to step in and fulfill your needs while Mr. Rochester is unavailable, I’m more than happy to - but I also have one more confession.”

“Another one?” I asked, shocked that there could be anything more than “vampire”?

Nodding his head, he began, “Because I am a vampire, I have some extra features. I can hear very, very well. I can see temperature differences in the human body, I can smell things that people can’t smell.” No idea where he’s going with this. But nodding encouragingly anyway. “When I first moved here, and when I first became a vampire - I heard you every night. You’re the only person in the whole building who has consistently had insomnia for the past 20 months, 1 week, and 2 days.”

“Oh,” I said, suddenly feeling a little woozy.

Max took my hand in his, rubbing his fingers in and out of mine slowly.

“I heard you when you cried on and off for those first couple months - which really annoyed me at the time. I heard you quietly humming around your apartment. When you started leaving your apartment to do laundry again and started singing in the laundry room, I fell in love with your voice. When you started narrating books, I’ll be honest, not all of them were good, but you - you are a good narrator, and your voice calms my heart and sets my soul at peace. I heard you on the phone with your mom, with your friends, I learned so many things about you - how you write poetry in the middle of the night and just practice reciting it out loud, to keep yourself from losing your own voice. I had to meet you, I had to know if I was going crazy about you just because you were alone in my head every night, or just because I was actually going mad.”

As I breathed in and out slowly, counting my 8’s, holding my 8’s, Max continued, “I think this is real, and I hope that you’ll give me time, and get to know me at your own pace.”

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

I looked around the room, I thought about everything I had been through these past, nearly two years, and looked at the man, the vampire, presenting himself before me. I thought about the whirlwind of this past week. Normally, I would call this a huge red flag - love bombing, et al. - but he didn’t say that he loved me. He also told me to take my time. This is different, it seems like he wants to take time to see if it’s real for himself, too. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. What am I doing?

I bent my right elbow, which felt fantastic, as I traced my thumb back and forth across my bottom lip, and Max watched me with a concerned look on his face. Picking up Mr. Rochester, I decided to say how I really and truly felt.

“Max, I think that in order for me to communicate what I need, I’m going to have to finish what we started.”

His eyebrows furrowed, confusion and unease marring his face, I hit play on my phone, and continued singing.

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“I want your body, I need your body,” standing up, pulling him up by his tie, “Long as you got me, you won’t need nobody.”

Using his tie like a leash, I gave him a tight little yank, leading him into my bedroom. Holding onto his tie-leash, I gave him a little push, encouraging him to sit on the edge of the foot of the bed. I slipped out of my peasant skirt and shoes, keeping my t-shirt, lingerie, and knee socks on. Sitting on his lap, facing him, I started to unbutton his vest as he put his hands on my hips, gripping me, rocking me against his burgeoning erection. I bit my lip, trying not to moan, but instead focusing on the task at hand which was incredibly difficult - especially while feeling his dick rubbing up against my vagina and clit through layers of fabric. Oh, that smell of him - leather, whisky, pine maybe? Something musky, I can’t - Resting my head against his shoulder, I pushed off his vest and started unbuttoning his shirt.

I loosened his tie, but only enough to get to the button at his collar. OH! He hit me with a deep, rough lunge against my lingerie, and my thighs quivered, anticipating the eventual thrust, the deep, violent rut into me that would scratch this itch, raging at my core. Pulling his collar out from under his tie, I tugged his entire shirt off, so that only his beautiful chest remained, with a neat little tie, perfect for keeping him right where I wanted him.

Pulling on the tie, I smirked, “Oh, Hiiii, Doggy.”

Max looked up at me, adoringly, and moved one of his hands up my back, pushing me right up against him, so that he could grab my mouth with his. Working his other hand up, while continuing to roll his hips into mine, he pulled my shirt up over my head. We took a break from kissing, and Max let his fangs out, biting into the fabric at the front of my bra, ripping it open easily and baring my breasts to him.

“Max,” I pouted, “That was expensive.”

He looked up at me, a devilish grin on his face, “I’ll buy you a new one.” Then proceeded to lick around my nipple, squeezing my other breast, jutting up into me, and rubbing the middle finger of his other hand up and down my spine, while I held onto his tie-leash. How he managed to hit my clitoris through the pants, I have no idea, but it created the perfect amount of friction in so many different delicious places, until finally, I gave a hard yank on the leash.

“We need to get all the way on the bed, because I need to be on top of you,” He looked up from the nipple he was sucking on, and replied, “Whatever I can do for you, Sweetness.”

He climbed back on the bed, then yanked me up with him, on top of him. I laughed, but only because I felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t get him inside of me soon. I kissed him, and he kissed me - he held on to me, and kept kissing me, his hands all over - sliding my lingerie down my thighs, and I had to pull away, “Max, no - I’m primed, I’m ready. I love kissing you, but I. Am. Ready.”

Raising his eyebrow, he licked his lips and grinned, “Don’t let me stop you. You’re a woman on a mission.”

I dragged my nails down his chest, around his nipples, giving gentle kisses along the way. When I got to his pants, I unbuckled his belt, popped open the button, and unzipped the zipper, my body shaking with impatience. Max lifted his hips, helping me to pull his pants and his black boxer briefs down, past his sumptuous, mouthwatering cock. I sat up, and blew into my hands to make sure they were warm - then licked the palms. Holding his dick just beneath the head with one hand, I slowly licked the underside, from the bottom of the shaft, to just under the head, giving it a little special attention, and then slowly, dipping my mouth over him, over his cock, up and down, slowing moving my hand up and down as Max started to groan. I kept going, keeping myself steady, going as far as I could, until he touched my hand.

“Sweetness? I want to fuck up your pussy with my cum. I want to wreck you - can we?”

Of course I was amenable to that proposition. He took my hand, like a princess, and led me forward so that I was hovering over his dick, letting it rub against me. While I continued doing that, he leaned all the way forward and started playing with my tits again, squeezing my ass, ravishing my body, so that I didn’t know where the pleasure was coming from. As he dipped the head of his penis into my vagina just slightly, teasing me, I finally - slowly, firmly, sat on his dick, and we both let out a loud groan together.

Every time I rolled my hips, my chest rolled, too, and we kept rubbing against each other in all of the right ways. Taking one hand from my hip, he started making circles with his thumb along my clitoris, and I started to feel the building coil, the tension, his dick throbbing as I clenched onto him. My vagina pulsing and squeezing as his dick kept pumping into me, and my clitoris, sparking and popping into a full abdomen orgasm. His warmth, his cum running down his cock and trickling along the edges of my vagina. I took my finger, and swiped at the puddle, licking it off my finger while Max stared at me in awe.

“Fuck, Sweetness. I could watch that all day.” I leaned into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me. “Please rank your customer satisfaction level with 1 being the lowest and 5 being the highest on your touch tone phone.”

“Um, hello? I’d like to lodge a complaint - I’ve been having sex with humans when I could’ve been having sex with vampires this entire time. Super Massive Blackhole Fuck Up.”

Max chuckled, “Your response has been accepted and will be processed between 10 - 15 business days.”

“What?! Why so long?!” I exclaimed as I pulled back slightly.

“Bureaucracy, obviously. A lot of paperwork to fill out. In fact, I should probably get started.”

Max started to lift me up off his lap and I whimpered in disappointment. His rich chuckle tumbled out of his chest, “Or we could just sit here, counting the seconds since our last successful orgasm.”

Smiling as he rubbed my back and gave me a kiss on the forehead, on the cheek - then abruptly, his mood changed. His eyebrows furrowed, and suddenly he was very serious.

“We didn’t use any protection.”

I looked down, playing with his tie, “I know.”

“I want you to know that, one of the benefits of being a vampire is that we’re not susceptible to STIs. It’s not a thing in the vampire world, we can’t catch them, we can’t be carriers…”

“That’s fine.” I interrupted him, “I kinda assumed after you told me that you were a vampire, that we’d have sex, then you’d completely exsanguinate me, or make me your familiar. And then I wouldn't have any free will after that. I considered this that one thing that I needed to do if I were to –”

Max’s face fell, his right hand stopped drawing circles on my back, and he used it to lift my chin so that I was looking him straight in the eye.

“Never.”

He gave me a soft kiss on the lips. “For as long as the sun sets and the moon rises.” Kissing both of my eyelids, he pulled me into his chest.

“I have control. Not like the first night I turned, but that’s another story. Now, it’s - nothing.”

“So it’s not like Twilight when Edward made a stank face when Bella walked into her science class?”

Max started guffawing.

“No! No, no no. Being around people, it’s like being at the supermarket - you don’t want to go when you’re hungry, otherwise you’re going to end up putting way more in your shopping cart than you need. And if someone is bleeding, it’s like being around someone cooking bacon or baking brownies, or whatever your personal weakness is when it comes to food. You can resist, but DAMN if it doesn’t smell good!”

I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, “Okay, I was not expecting that at all,” Max laughed lightly, “Twilight, True Blood, Dracula, those are my entire basis of vampire knowledge. So - no worries of STIs, that’s great!”

As I finished what I was saying, Max stiffened, “I think there’s another thing you should probably know –” he paused, as though he wasn’t sure how to approach it.

Leaning back, I looked at him as he explored my face, clenching his jaw before starting, “Some people might see this as a bonus, although others may feel that it is a dealbreaker.”

I looked back at him, attempting to keep my face as supportive as possible, albeit I was somewhat nervous where he was going.

“Vampires cannot get humans pregnant - or other vampires, for that matter. The water turns to wine as soon as you turn. Which is probably for the best.”

Max bit his lip, raising his eyebrow in a questioning manner, “Is this a dealbreaker?”

My heart rattled around my rib cage, glowing as it warmed towards him, my appreciation for his candor and consideration, his openness and frankly bravery in being able to admit so many scary, risky things to me tonight. It was certainly a lot to take in, a lot to process.

“Well,” I started, “Between you not being able to have children and you being a vampire, I would say that being a vampire would probably be more of a dealbreaker than the extremely normal issue of male infertility, right?”

Pausing, I gave him a wink.

Apparently he was holding his breath, because he let it out in a whoosh as he nervously giggled to himself.

“That being said,” I continued, as he focused on my lips, “I actually can’t have children either, so - I’m glad you brought this up. And I’m really glad that we won’t be having a weird vampire-human baby hybrid à la Twilight.”

“Wait. You can’t have children?” Max asked, as I shrunk a little into myself, “DUMPED!”

And he swung me off his lap, onto the bed, where he stood over me. His chest slowly going up and down, the tie dangling over it, and his pants which were open just enough for our earlier sex acts, providing the full monty of his cock rising with another generous erection.

Sitting up on my elbows, I raised an eyebrow, “I’m not sure that I love that my inability to produce offspring, followed up by a subsequent dumping, which by the way - didn’t know we were officially a thing yet - is giving you such a massive erection. Don’t - love - it.”

I cocked my head to the side, after Max gave me a particularly charming grin, and eyed the precum starting to bead at the head of his massively beautiful dick.

“Oh, we were definitely a thing,” he said, reaching behind him to grab something - but what was he grabbing? No. Oh no. When did he have time to bring that into the room? “But it’s over now. Sorry. Perhaps it’s my turn to sing for you? Express my broken heart at your treachery and deceit?”

Setting up a song on his phone, the music started as Mr. Rochester started on a low buzz.

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Immediately I recognized Wicked Games by Chris Isaak, as Max slowly climbed the bed near my feet, singing into Mr. Rochester, “The world was on fire, and no one could save me but you. Strange what desire, makes foolish people do.”

As he got closer to my thighs, he took Mr. Rochester, and gently applied him to the inside of my left knee, just along the side, moving slowly up, “No, I-i-i-i - don’t wanna fall in love. No, I-i-i-i - don’t wanna fall in love, with you.”

He looked me straight in the eyes as he increased the vibration, taking Mr. Rochester, and placing him in the lower center of my abdomen, about 3 fingers width above my clit. I scrunched up my nose at him in disapproval, although I was simultaneously feeling quite frazzled.

“What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way. What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.” He quickly swiped Mr. Rochester straight up and around my belly button, then over to the right side of my abdomen. “What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way. What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you.”

The buzzing, set to medium, was not too light that it tickled, but was just enough to set my senses ablaze. Up again he went, circling my right breast very delicately in concentrically smaller circles until he was focused on just the nipple, as I leaned back, curling my toes and clenching the sheets in my hands. Max moved in closer, hovering above me as he circled my left breast, my nipple, dipping his head into the crook of my neck. He started kissing, licking, and nibbling along my collarbone, moving up towards my chin, in the meanwhile, drawing Mr. Rochester down my body until he was right on my clitoris.

Gasping from the combined pleasures, I reached my arm around his neck, pulling myself up so that I could kiss him right in the little dip below his Adam's apple. Using my tongue, I gently massaged the divet in between generous kisses, inhaling large breaths of his virile, woodsy, spiced scent. With my other hand, I lightly ran my fingers up and down the length of his dick, stopping just below the head along the frenulum, tenderly swirling my finger in very soft, small circles.

“Oh fuck.” Max whispered loudly, putting his forehead against mine. “I’m gonna pull you up further onto the bed, okay?” he said through haphazard breaths, tossing Mr. Rochester aside.

I nodded as he reached underneath me, moving me closer to the top of the bed, and putting a pillow underneath my head. He glanced down at me, giving me a big smile, “And now I’m going to fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked.”

Smiling back at him, he immediately put his lips to mine, pulling me into a full, luscious kiss that just kept going. His body against mine, our skin touching - melting into each other, moving together up and down, he used one hand to line himself up with my vagina. Edging into me, inch by glorious inch with each wave of our undulating bodies. Once fully inside me, he pulled back like a slow coil and then snapped back into me, and did it again, and again, and again. I put my hand above my head to brace myself against the headboard, and Max brought his hand up, grasping onto mine like he couldn’t bear to have any piece of me not engaged in making love to him.

He continued to thrust into me - the repeated, wet friction of the head of his cock on my g spot, the feeling of his shaft filling me up - hard and thick. Pulsing subtly as he clenched his muscles to continue driving into me, I started to feel the pull, the spasm, taking the bite of apple from the tree of knowledge with the snake at my feet. The intensity of which only increased as I opened my eyes, looking up at Max as he looked back down at me, with his sincere, enthusiastic half smile and adorable dimple. He slowed as he felt my vagina contract around him, and moved his penis in and out in deep circles. Until I could feel his rigorous and steady ejaculation into me, warming me from the inside out.

Giving me sweet little kisses along the line of my jaw as he remained inside me, giving my chin a little bite, he leaned onto one elbow and reached down, swiping at our cum at the base of his cock. Bringing his finger to his mouth, he licked it off, mimicking what I’d done earlier.

“Fuck, Sweetness. I could watch that all day.” I teased, parroting what he’d said to me earlier.

Max raised an eyebrow and leaned in, giving me a full, deep kiss, letting me taste our combined flavors. Everybody is different, but for some reason it reminded me of pineapple upside down cake, or rum raisin ice cream, with a slight saltiness, and I felt dizzy from all of the attention and care he was giving me. Or perhaps it was simply dehydration?

I looked over at my bedside table, where I’d left a glass of water just out of reach and Max, attentive beyond my expectations, reached over and handed it to me. Taking the glass out of his hand left it free to wander, and wander it did. He took his hand, trailing his index finger down my throat. Upon reaching my clavicles he splayed his hand and slowly drew his whole hand down my chest, resting his hand between my breasts and leaving it there. He moved over to my side, propping his head up on his other hand.

As he moved to my side, naturally, his penis came out of me. His dick was big, but realistically, it was not that long and that was for the best. Gasping theatrically, he took his hand off my chest and said, “Oh no!” Then scooted closer to me and draped his dick over my hip, making me laugh at his desire to use his cock to keep a claim on me.

Max started tracing imaginary shapes on my abdomen. Until he furrowed his brow and traced what, to most people, would look like a frowny face between my hips, my pubic bone, and my belly button.

“These scars - this is why you can’t have kids?” he asked.

I took a deep breath and sighed, “Yeah. I mean, it’s a little more complicated than that, but it’s the visual and physical evidence remaining of what happened that caused it.”

“May I ask what happened?”

I bit the inside of my mouth, then reached over towards my bedside table that was just out of reach, to put the glass of water back. Without trying, Max took the glass of water out of my hand and easily put the glass back on the table for me.

Without thinking too much, I turned on the clinical side of my brain.

“I have a disease called endometriosis,” I’ve repeated this so many times, for so many people that I don’t even have to think about it anymore, “it’s where tissue similar to, but not, the uterine lining grows outside of the uterus. In a way, it’s like cancer, in that tissue is growing where it shouldn’t - however, it absolutely does not metastasize the same way at all, so it cannot be qualified as a cancer. The tissue that grows is triggered by estrogen, so it’s aggravated by menstrual cycles, but the pain it causes is not limited to menstrual cycles. As it grows, it creates painful adhesions which are almost magnetic in drawing organs together, getting organs stuck together to the point that a person’s abdomen can be 'frozen' in place - organs are really supposed to be free floating, mobile, not stuck together.”

I took a moment to breathe before digging back in.

“That gets really painful. It can affect fertility in many different ways, and is responsible for about 50% of infertility cases. A lot of people who have endo often find success with pregnancy after having a surgery known as 'excision' surgery. Not to be confused with 'ablation' surgery.” Going on to describe the difference between the two, “Excision pulls the disease out by the root, ablation just burns the disease off at the surface - it’s basically like cutting the lawn versus pulling the weeds. You wanna pull the weeds.”

I paused. I knew I’d said a lot, and took a look at Max to see how he was faring.

His brows were knitted together, concerned, but he was paying attention. “So, you had one of the - excision - surgeries? Your fertility should’ve been better right?”

Tilting my head slightly, I continued, “Ehhh, well. I had 3 surgeries, well 2 - “ Max frowned, “My first surgery was with a doctor who was a gynecological surgeon, but not an endo specialist. So they opened me up, panicked when they realized how much was happening, drained an endometrioma in my ovary, and then sewed me back up. Then I had an excision surgery with 2 well known endometriosis specialists who diagnosed me with stage 4 disease, and based on visual confirmation only, adenomyosis.”

“Adenomy–? But they got all of the endometriosis?”

“They did their best. They got rid of everything that they were able to see, but I lost my gallbladder and my appendix to the disease and adhesions. However, they did save my left kidney, so I was psyched about that,” I gave Max two thumbs up. “And adenomyosis is when endometriosis grows in between the layers of uterine lining. It can either be focal or diffuse. If it’s focal, that means that it’s like a little ball or cyst that they can remove, although it’s very tricky to do because the uterus is basically a giant muscle filled with blood vessels. The muscles have two jobs: squeeze to shed lining, and close off blood vessels so that you don’t bleed your own blood. When there’s something like adenomyosis or fibroids interrupting the muscles, they can’t always properly close off the blood vessels.”

“And you bleed your own blood?”

“Yes, and it always makes me think of that line from the movie Dodgeball, ‘Nobody makes me bleed my own blood - nobody!’ You know what I’m talking about - Ben Stiller says it?”

Max chuckled, “Yeah, I know it. ‘If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball’! But continue, please.”

“Yar. So. It’s a lot harder to remove disease from inside the lining of the uterus. There’s a procedure called the Osada Procedure, developed by –” I paused for dramatic effect, “Dr. Osada, from Japan. But it’s pretty wild. They actually…” I stopped and looked at him, “This next part is a little graphic, but from a scientific standpoint, it’s also very interesting. Are you sure you want me to continue?”

He pretended like he really had to think about it, hemming in various different ways for a good minute, “Ummmm…ahhhhhh, hmmmmm, wellllllllllll.” And then he smiled at me and reached for my hand, “Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Well, they basically do a c-section, and lift your uterus out so that they can peel back the outer layer and remove the disease from the inner layer.”

His eyes grew wide and his smile turned to repulsion, “Whaaaaaaaat??? Really?? That’s - I don’t know that I like that.”

“Only 5 doctors in the world are capable of performing it, so it wasn’t actually an option for me. Well, 4 doctors now, one retired.”

“So what is the treatment if not that?”

“Birth control, aka hormone modifying medication. I had to have an IUD inserted AND take a progesterone-only birth control at the same time daily, in order to keep myself from bleeding through.”

“Progesterone-only because estrogen made the endometriosis angry?”

“Exactly.”

“You said ‘had’ though. You’re not doing that anymore?”

“Uh, no. So there are other options, like presacral neurectomy, which involves severing the nerves between the uterus and the presacral plexus, the bundle of nerves that sends pain signals from the uterus to the brain.”

Max’s face turned to one of unhappy disgust, with an exaggerated frown and I laughed, “I know, that doesn’t sound great. Some people have a lot of luck with it, which means they get to keep their uterus, try for kids, but sometimes the connection grows back, sometimes the wrong nerve gets severed and people experience tingling and paralysis, lack of feeling, the surgery is somewhere between 52% - 75% effective amongst patients - but again, there aren’t a lot of doctors who are qualified to perform that surgery.”

“Is that the surgery you got for your third surgery?” Max asked, looking concerned.

I shook my head, “No. I actually started having pain again about 7 months after my second surgery - the first surgery with the specialists - despite physical and pelvic floor therapy, and my endo specialist told me that it was possible, with all of the endo I had, that I had more disease. That it would be worth it to have another surgery.”

“So you did that.”

“Yeah. And, because there were some concerning things happening regarding national / local access to my hormone medication –”

Max interjected, “The birth control? With the Supreme Court and local laws?”

I nodded and he frowned, “Exactly. I wasn’t sure that I was going to have access to the medication that allowed me to stand up straight, and kept me from suffering significant anemia. After talking with my doctor, I decided to go ahead and have an Anti-Müllerian Hormone blood test done to see what my ovarian reserve was. It was super easy - they just drew my blood, and then I found out how fertile I was.”

“Judging by those beautiful hips…” a smug smile stretched across Max’s face.

Rolling my eyes at him, I forged ahead with good natured sarcasm, “Yep. That’s how that works. Science solved!”

He gave me a kiss on the cheek, chuckling.

“Normal AMH levels are about 1.5 - 4.0 ng/l and anything below 1.0 is considered low, but above 0.5-0.8, is still viable for fertility treatments. Mine came in at 0.05 ng/l.”

Taking a moment, Max gulped, absentmindedly starting to brush a strand of hair out of my face and behind my ear, then continued to trace along my jaw until he reached my chin, placing his thumb on my bottom lip, affectionately brushing his finger over it, his eyes focused on both of my lips.

“I think I know where this is going - but I want to hear it from you.”

Pursing my lips, I carried on - still fairly objective in my tone and phrasing.

“It didn’t make sense to try to hold on to an organ that wasn’t serving me and wouldn’t serve me, I’m not super young - and especially as someone who was not in a relationship or had any idea when or if I would be partaking in another one. Much less so in this climate. I’m not going to hold off for some ‘maybe’ person,” looking at him, “sorry,” he shrugged, and shook his head, unbothered, “-- to decide for me in the here and now, while I was currently in a lot of pain; when I could go ahead and make the choice for myself to get both surgeries done at the same time. And after doing the research, I decided on a total hysterectomy plus a salpingectomy - it’s one of the three options available. There’s hysterectomy classic - just the uterus; total hysterectomy - uterus plus cervix; radical hysterectomy - uterus, cervix, ovaries. I kept my ovaries so that I could maintain my hormone levels on my own, but I got a salpingectomy, aka got my fallopian tubes removed, so that I didn’t have a risk of an ectopic pregnancy, which oddly, is still a possibility despite having a hysterectomy. Wild, eh?”

Max gave me a horrified look, “WHAT? Jesus.” He shook his head. “So –” his hand hovered over my midsection, “how is this all feeling now? How long ago did this happen?”

Scrunching up my face, I responded, “About 20 months, 1 week, and 4 days ago - I had to stay in the hospital for 1.5 days.” Then I grinned and said in a British accent, “I’m getting betteh!”

Letting out an amused cackle, Max did his own Monty Python impersonation, “You’re not dead yet?”

Keeping my face in a dramatically large, frozen faced smile, eyebrows raised, I just shook my head and raised my shoulders in a shrug.

Max cackled even louder, and wrapped me up in his arms, giving me aggressively sweet little kisses, while I giggled at his relentless ardor.

Stopping abruptly, he inquired again, “Seriously, though - you seemed okay during sex, both times,” he flashed his eyebrows and smirked, as he gave me a quick look up and down, then got serious again, “but I didn’t hurt you at all, did I?”

“Oh, no - not at all. They found more stage 4 disease during my third surgery and removed that, and everything healed up quite nicely. No complications. And if anything, my hormones may be a bit out of whack - I’ve had a hard time obviously, with insomnia, and there was a period of time where I really, really didn’t feel like myself at all. But now that I’m off not one but TWO forms of birth control, which is a LOT, let’s be honest - I feel like I’m outside of a cloud that I’d been living in.”

Max nodded while he listened, “If anything I’m more present, I think. And my sex drive is a lot higher, sex is –'' I looked into his eyes, wishing I could convey to him just exactly what being with him meant, “actually pleasurable. It doesn’t hurt. Occasionally, the ghost of endo haunts me, and that leaves me a little sore. But if I’m going to be sore from anything, I want it to be from an intense sex session with you.”

“It haunts you?”

“There’s no official cure for it, and when it takes a really long time for a diagnosis, the disease can develop its own nerve endings, which can leave many patients with residual nerve issues, like fibromyalgia or other types of neuralgia.”

“Did you write a book on this or are you also a part time doctor?”

I laughed, “Ah, no. A lot of patients have to push to get diagnosed, and that usually involves becoming very educated in the various aspects of endo. I have spent a good portion of my free time helping other patients advocate for themselves - the whole system is problematic in a lot of ways.” I sighed.

“I have one final question for you,” Max led into his query, “The kids ‘thing’. How are you feeling about having to give that up?”

Giving out an exasperated huff, I launched into my response, “First - I have a lot of thoughts. I had a lot of thoughts. I always thought that I would have kids, but no matter what relationship I was in, it never seemed like a good time. Not just because of where we were planning-wise, but because I had other stuff I wanted to do instead. And I know that sounds selfish - I like kids, I do - it’s just, I didn’t want them around all the time.”

Max laughed at me, or with me, it was hard to tell, “But I did want the choice. I wanted it to be mine, and mine alone, not because of something that couldn’t be helped, not a government, not anyone else but me. And when I was setting up the surgery and had to coordinate with the insurance company, do you know what the insurance agent said to me?” Max shrugged and shook his head. “We’ll have to confirm with your doctor, to make sure that you’re not trying to get out of having kids.”

Max’s face took on a steely glare, his nostrils flared as he breathed out, and he accidentally bared his fangs.

“I know. I was furious. I didn’t realize having children was a requirement for my gender. But I spent the next 20 minutes educating that insurance rep on my reproductive system, and then they admitted that they knew people with similar issues and had some issues themselves, so it’s - whatever.” I threw my hands in the air.

Looking away from me, Max clenched his jaw - he seemed to be trying to get his fangs to retract. I could tell that what I said upset him, and I reached my hand up to his chin, turning his face back towards mine. He took my hand, and brought it down to his heart, holding it there in place as he leaned his forehead against mine. After a minute of slowing his breathing, he pulled my hand back up to his face and kissed it. Drawing back, fangs no longer on display, he studied my face - letting his rich, hot coffee eyes dissolve me.

“I hate that you went through that - and I feel like an asshole for being annoyed at you because I had to listen to you cry in the middle of the night when I first transformed.” Shaking my head, I opened my mouth to speak, but Max pushed on, “I am an asshole. It’s what I do best. And I suspect that sometimes it turns you on.”

He had me there, and I tried not to look directly at him. “I am trying, though,” giving me one of his deliciously charming smiles and a wink, he pulled me closer, and nuzzled my neck.

“You know what?” Max began, a teasing, smug look on his face as he pulled back, “All that you’ve been through - that’s all very impressive. And I want you to know that I’m here for you. Because I know exactly what you’ve been through.”

“Oh, really?”

“Absolutely.” He lifted his leg, showing off a small, white scar, about 3 inches long. “I was chased by a dog when I was 8 years old, and fell on some glass.”

Mockingly, but with sincere gusto, I gasped, “Oh no!” Touching the scar on his leg, “This is horrific. I hope you sued that dog. And that piece of glass.”

Max dramatically and emotionally sniffed back fake tears, “Thank you. We sued them into oblivion for everything they were worth. It was very traumatic.”

“And how much was everything they were worth?” I inquired.

“A bag of puppy chow and the rest of the broken bottle.”

“Sounds like you came out on top. Somebody didn’t have to pay for college!”

Max burst out laughing, “That’s right, I went into college admissions with puppy chow and a broken bottle and said, ‘This should cover one 4-year bachelor degree, right?’ and they absolutely said yes. And now I work in sales.” He shrugged, still chuckling.

“Wait - so you’re a vampire, and you still work? That didn't stop once you transitioned?”

“Ah, yeah. I still have bills, although I do get some kick back when I –” he mimed biting into someone’s neck, sucking their blood, and then tossing their corpse over his shoulder.

“Kick back?”

“Yeah, I take their wallets and drain their bank accounts. They’re not using it anymore.” All of a sudden his face jumped into a look of surprise, and he looked like a little kid who got his hand caught in the cookie jar.

Gasping in feigned surprise, I declared, “What?! Not my Max! Not my sweet Max? He would never steal from dead people!”

His face moved into an awkwardly wide stretched grin, and his eyes shifted back and forth, “Ummmm - honesty is important to you, right?” I nodded. “More important than if I was a thieving thiever who stole from helpless dead people who were at one point alive before I drained their blood?”

Earnestly, I nodded.

“Well, yes. I may take a collection up from the corpses, but I always ask first. ‘Hey, Mr. Dead Guy, do you want to donate to my personal cause?’ and then,” he mimed moving a skull’s jaw with one hand, and spoke in a slightly higher voice, “they say, ‘Why yes, Mr. Phillips, this sounds like a great cause, I’d love to donate to it. Take my bank card and drain all of the funds, please and thank you.’ Isn’t that so nice of them?” He looked at me with his mouth wide open in a giant, cartoonish smile.

“Ohmygod, soooo nice.” I batted my eyelashes at him, while talking like a Valley Girl from the OG Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

“Sooo nice. They love it.” He leaned in to kiss me, his voluminous lips toying with my own, his tongue peeking into my mouth. I found myself feeling dizzy again, but this time I knew it was because we had just spent about ten minutes kissing without stopping to breathe, as Max moved with me, as though he were part of me.

Scooting me a bit closer to him, he wrapped his right arm around me, allowing me to rest my head just under his chin. With his left hand, he took my right hand, kissing each of my fingers one by one before asking, “Is that clock right?” referring to a clock I had hanging on the wall across from the bed.

“Yep.” I yawned.

Looking down at me, “Hmm. Well, it looks like I may have successfully tired you out.” I let out a snort. “And, I actually have to get ready for work.” He sighed.

“But you were up all night,” I complained.

Max took my hand and pointed at himself, “Uh, vampire - I think we established that.” Then chuckling, he kissed my hand again, placing it on his chest. “It’s only 8-9 hours. 10 hours if someone’s being a dipshit and doesn’t get their reports done.”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay, Max.”

“I was trying to psych myself up, Sweetness.”

“Ewwww. Gross.”

“What’s that? Not enough? Tone it up?”

I shook my head, giggling.

He sat up and pulled me with him, gently nibbling at my throat, “You’re good enough to eat, and I swear to god, that pussy’s gonna be on the menu tonight.”

Then, as he started to get off the bed, he tugged me off the bed with him carefully, by the wrists. As we stood there, naked and facing each other, Max maintained his hold on my wrists directly in front of his chest. Standing up straight, his strong, broad shoulders rolled back, he surveyed my body without ever moving his head. I stared right back at him, defiant, though my nipples betrayed me as they perked up under his calculating gaze.

“I want you to dress me.” Max said in a calm, firm voice.

I frowned at him.

He cracked a crooked grin, then leaned in close to whisper in my ear, “Please.”

Licking just under my earlobe, he gave it a bite and wrapped his lips around the lobe, right before giving me a kiss on the cheek.

How could I possibly resist that? I bit my lip, “Well, when you ask so nicely –”

“Manners maketh man, so they say.”

Max winked and let go of my wrists. I started to grab my own clothes, and he reached out to grab my wrist again.

“Ah-ah. Just me, Sweetness.”

It’s one thing to have someone attempt to control you and every little thing you do. It’s quite another when you know that someone is asking you to do something because they want to spend more time with you, because they want to see more of you, because they enjoy YOU.

I tossed my clothes behind me, and reached down for Max’s black boxer briefs, kneeling before him so that he could step into them, as he balanced by putting his left hand on my right shoulder. Then I began gliding the shorts up his muscular calves, his strong thighs, gradually standing up - until I reached around to pull them up over his ass, pressing my body against his. He groaned as I took my hands and ran them the length of the elastic band towards the front of his body, where his dick hung out the front, or rather, was beginning to experience a raising of spirits. Carefully, but firmly, I grasped his cock, and Max let out a pleased whimper, closing his eyes, and then immediately opening them.

“No –” he said breathlessly, “Not yet. I have to get going. But I love where your head's at.”

He smirked at me, reaching around to grab me by the ass while simultaneously pressing me up against him, leaning down to give me a kiss on the lips. As he released his grip, I went ahead and tucked his erection upwards facing in his boxer briefs, which kinda, sorta worked.

He put his hands on his hips and said, “Fashion, baby,” clicking his tongue and winking at me.

Picking up his pants, I got back down on my knees so that he could step into them. He put his left hand on my right shoulder again to balance himself and said, “Sweetness, I don’t have a kink for Stepford Wives, but the way you’re taking care of me is so fucking hot.”

I made eye contact with his dick as I stood, looking up at him, and he chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’m counting on it,” I told him as I turned around to find where his shirt and vest went.

Under his breath he muttered, “You can always count on me.”

“What?” I asked as I turned around.

He shook his head, looking like a deer caught in headlights, but tried to play it off casually, “Nothing. Were you, uh - you were saying something?”

I pursed my lips in an amused smile, shaking my head, “No, I guess my hearing isn’t what it used to be.”

“I mean, you’re not a vampire.” he said, shrugging and looking slightly suspicious.

“Or, I’m just very tired, and - imagining things.”

As I made my excuses, Max seemed a bit relieved that I wasn’t pushing him to admit that he said anything. Although, I wasn’t sure that I was ready to hear him. At least, not ready to exchange words at that level of commitment, not so soon. I’m not in a rush, and he’s a vampire - he actually has forever. Man can wait.

Walking over, I tried to smooth over his crumpled shirt before holding out an arm for him to reach into, then walking behind his broad back, to slide the other sleeve on. Returning to my spot in front of him, Max put his hands on my hips as I started buttoning him up from the bottom to the top, making sure to keep his tie tossed over his shoulder. Once his shirt was all set, I tucked his tie over his collar, and folded his collar back down over it, adjusting the knot so that the tie had a slightly more tidy fit. I tucked his shirt into his pants by reaching my arms around him like I was giving him a bear hug, making my way around to the front the same way I’d done with his boxer briefs. My hands smoothing him over around his waist, until I got to the front and took one final opportunity to trail my fingers gently over his erection. He sighed again, closing his eyes, and I gave him a kiss on the cheek. Over his shirt, I helped him put on his vest, assisting him again with his buttons.

“You look so good.” I said as I stood back, admiring my work, and quite frankly just the beautiful human - oh, I mean vampire, that he is.

“So do you.” He said as his tongue stuck out a bit from his mouth, his eyes trailing my body.

I rolled my eyes, laughing lightly, “I’ll go find your jacket from the other room - your shoes and socks are here somewhere, so I’ll let you finish that part.”

As I walked out into the living room, nabbing Max’s jacket from the couch, I stopped to look out the window. Dark velvet night threatened to break with blue early morning twilight along the edges of the horizon, and I shuddered.

What happens to Max in the sunlight? I crossed my arms, feeling goosebumps rising on my skin, feeling - what? Fear for him? Worry? Caring? It’s been awhile since I’ve done this. I hoped that I could pace myself.

Without realizing that he’d come out of the bedroom, I found myself in his arms again after he walked up behind me, gently wrapping himself around me. Leaning his head on my shoulder, he gave me a nuzzle and a peck on my cheek.

“Walk me to the door?”

I laughed, “Like this?” He gave me the cutest, sweetest face of pleading. “Fine.”

So we walked to the door together, and as Max walked out he turned around to face me, leaning in the door frame. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

Just then, my elderly neighbor from across the hall, Mr. Vilallonga opened his door to grab a package that was sitting outside. Max took his arm from the door frame as he turned around to see what was happening behind him, and Mr. Vilallonga caught a full glimpse of my naked body. I gasped, immediately covering my body with my hands, just as Mr. Vilallonga looked up, dropped his package on the floor, and started apologizing profusely.

As soon as Max realized what was happening, he stepped in between us to block Mr. Vilallonga’s view.

Holding back a wheezing laugh and apologizing to me repeatedly, “I will make this up to you, I’m so sorry - never again, okay? Never again. Your body is sacred to me - it’s not for this fucking guy,” he frantically whispered, pointing with his thumb behind him.

Fuming! I fumed at him. Meanwhile, his features had softened so much, I could tell that he was very, very sorry that this had happened. But it was gonna take a minute for me to recover. I also might’ve prematurely killed Mr. Vilallonga, who had slammed his door shut, and whom I could also still hear yelling apologies through his door.

“Leave.” I told Max.

He gave me sad puppy eyes and nodded, then immediately switched to a giant smile, mouthing the words, ‘I’ll call you,’ while he held an imaginary telephone to his ear, followed by promptly pushing me back into my apartment and closing the door.

Alone, I went into the bathroom and started the shower using my right hand to turn the faucet on. I paused, remembering that it was less than 12 hours ago that I had a bandage on my elbow and struggled to bend that arm. And now? Bending my arm every which way, it was perfect. Maybe better than before. Was that even real?

Scrolling through my phone, I selected some music at random for shower time ambience and atmosphere.

youtube

As the beat kicked in, so did Miley Cyrus’ husky voice as I stepped into the shower. Shampooing my hair, I sang along, “I was born to run, I don’t belong to anyone, oh-no. I don’t need to be loved by you.” Rinsing out my hair, applying conditioner and using the loofah, I kept singing, ‘See his hands ‘round my waist, thought you never be replaced, baby. Ooh, you know it’s true.”

Flashing back, I remembered how many times Max put his hands on my body, reverently touching my flesh, making me feel incredibly sexy and simultaneously safe with him. I thought about the one who came before, the one who even now, had been holding me back. But not anymore. “That I was born to run, I don’t belong to anyone, oh-no. I don’t need to be loved by you.”

Exiting the bathroom, I slipped into a pair of silk shorts and a silk tank, grabbed my notebook and sat on my bed. Being with Max had been exhilarating, but my feelings were starting to get a bit intense for me. I decided to temper them by writing them out in a type of poem I’d learned way back in college - a freeform, stream of consciousness style. It felt better than journaling because I always ended up giving up on journals about 3 or 4 entries in. But with a “poetry” journal, I could say that I was being creative and artsy without any judgment from anyone else. There was absolutely zero pressure. I could let my thoughts flow, and in the end, they would be prettier than anything I would’ve written in a regular journal. At least that’s what it felt like for me.

Opening up my journal, I felt the dam break and I was off - scribbling exactly how I felt, on an extreme spectrum, allowing myself to engage in these feelings was a huge release.

Make me yours. Mark me with your kisses, claim me with your voice. Tell the world they’re making a mistake when the hands they lay upon me attempt to take away my choice. Keep me with your quiet eyes, let yourself enjoy the image of my body, the visage of my body, it’s for your eyes only, that I disrobe. Mold me with your gentle hands, sculpt and shape me with your touch, until I am no longer the shadow of who I was, but the silhouette of who I will become. Not because you demanded it, not because I let it go, but because when we’re together, our love and sacrifices create something bigger than they could ever know.

A little silly, and it definitely turned out to be a love poem. I read it aloud to hear how it would sound, and I didn’t mind it. But it’s definitely not getting published anytime soon, and I giggled at the prospect.

Well now that’s out of my system – I put my notebook on my nightstand, and turned off my bedside lamp. As I slept, I had fitful, sexy dreams about Max, and woke up craving him.

To be continued...

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almostfoxglove · 3 months ago

Text

SOUNDS DANGEROUS

📧 a max phillips one shot for @jolapeno's dearuary challenge

RATING: Explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 2.6k PAIRING: Max Phillips x f!Reader PROMPT: A long-distance relationship blossoms through emails, but the tension of being apart grows. CW: This is pretty goofy, a tiny bit sort of almost angsty, but mostly just silly. Reader uses a fake name.

SUMMARY: When you reply to a bizarre craigslist ad, a stranger on the other side of the country charms his way into your life.

read on ao3 | main masterlist | get notifs @foxglovenotifs

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 9:39 AM To: <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Craigslist Ad

Hello! Hoping to work out if you’re a weirdo or if the ad you posted here is serious. I could use the money, but would like to pass on being murdered in some random basement or finding out the hard way that this is code for some weird sex thing.

Let me know!

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 3:21 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Re: Craigslist Ad

Dawn,

Thanks for reaching out. I can assure you the ad is very serious—unfortunately it is not “some weird sex thing” (sounds a little judgy, if you ask me), and my basement happens to be full up at the moment. And on the other side of the country, if that’s any comfort.

I need the package shipped ASAP. Looking for serious applicants only. Payment will be transferred when tracking information has been shared. Can you confirm you’re interested and available this week? Tomorrow would be best.

Max Phillips Sales Manager - BB Corporate Salesman of the Year Award Recipient 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 5:10 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Craigslist Ad

Hi,

Cool. Tomorrow’s fine with me, I’ve got an appointment in the afternoon but if it’s not too far by bike I can grab the package and mail it in the morning first thing. Can you share the address?

Just a heads up—I will be sending it to my roommate so she can, you know, follow up if I don’t make it home. Your email and ad too. I took screenshots. And I carry mace. For the record.

Dawn

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 7:01 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Re: Craigslist Ad [Sent with 1 attachment]

Dawn,

Sorry, got held up in a meeting.

Share whatever information you need to. Smart girl with the mace, though it won’t be necessary. Still, bring it along! Always best to be cautious. However, I am concerned about your “bike.” Surely a car would be much more efficient. The pickup location is a little outside of the hustle and bustle, if you will. It’s very important I receive the package on time.

Perhaps you could scrounge up a more reliable vehicle for the morning?

I’m attaching the address of the pickup location here. Please send confirmation.

Max Phillips Sales Manager - BB Corporate Salesman of the Year Award Recipient 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 7:16 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Craigslist Ad

A meeting? If you’re on the other side of the country, isn’t it like… 10PM where you are??

Also, my bike’s just fine, thanks. I can leave early and make it work. Wait - how do I know you’re actually gonna pay me? I feel like I should get half up front as a symbol of, I don’t know, good faith or whatever.

Yeah, actually. I’m gonna need half now. My paypal uses this email address.

Best to be cautious, right?

From: PayPal <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 7:25 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: You’ve got money

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 2, 2014 at 7:27 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Re: Craigslist Ad

You haven’t heard? No rest for the wicked, honey.

Send tracking info when you have it, and I’ll send over the rest. Don’t make me regret it! Oh—I should mention, it’s very important you do not open the package. It’ll be wrapped and addressed, so you just need to pedal it over and make the drop, got it? You can ask for Victor when you pick it up, he’ll be expecting you.

Also, have you ever considered working in sales? I’m always hiring.

Max Phillips Sales Manager - BB Corporate Salesman of the Year Award Recipient 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2014 at 10:04 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Sent your weird box [Sent with 1 attachment]

Max,

You’re lucky I’m strapped for cash. Maybe I should’ve backed out when you insisted I not open the package (super suspicious, by the way!), but I went ahead and cycled 27 miles to, oh, what’s that? A FUCKING CEMETERY.

No, I didn’t open your stupid box, but it was fucking heavy. If I’ve just mailed you someone’s head, I swear to god I’ll find your ass and take yours as reparations. Also, the guy was a total creep. Victor? Whatever. Not gropey, but like, I think I’ll sleep worse knowing I live in the same city as the fucking crypt keeper. So thanks for that!

Here’s your tracking info. I’d like the rest of the money now.

Dawn

From: PayPal <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2014 at 3:08 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: You’ve got money

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2014 at 3:10 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Sent your weird box

Believe it or not, Victor looks pretty good for his age.

Thanks for doing business!

Max Phillips Sales Manager - BB Corporate Salesman of the Year Award Recipient 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2015 at 6:20 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Request

Dawn, honey!

What are the odds I might be able to talk you into running a little package to the post office for me again?

Same payment stands.

Max Phillips Sales Manager - BB Corporate Salesman of the Year Award Recipient 2010, 2011, 2012, and 2013

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 7:22 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Anniversary

Hey, you know what today is?

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 7:53 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

Hmmm… let me think. Two years since you swindled me into cycling in the pouring rain to meet the scariest man I’ve ever seen in my life? If you’re trying to build suspense, you really shouldn’t put the answer in the subject line. Just saying!

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 7:57 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

I’ll pass on the snark, princess. Two years!

But let’s not count our ducks too soon. Victor’s only the scariest man you’ve ever seen in your life so far. Still plenty of time for me to claim the title when you set eyes on me.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 8:21 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

You know, you talk a big game for a man who won’t send me a photograph of himself. For all I know you could be gorgeous. Or extremely average. Completely forgettable.

Anyway. Guessing you need another shipment. I’ve got a couple days off this week and can go pick it up. Also, do I get a gift for two years of loyalty? Feel like I oughta get a commemorative mug or something.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 8:30 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

It’s for your own good, sweetheart. One photo of me and our professional relationship would go up in flames. Would hate to mess up a good thing.

Re: Gift—I will not be making you a commemorative mug. You know how many of those corporate sends out? Garbage, all of them. Got anything better in mind? A little more exciting?

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 8:34 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

I wanna know what I ship you every year. Please know that if it turns out to be someone’s head or any other body part, my promise to cut yours off as payback still stands.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Oct 3, 2016 at 8:48 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

You wound me, Dawn. Such little faith, but alright. I’ll bite.

When you pick up the package this week, you can open it up. But no fucking with the shipping label, yeah? And no spilling anything. Be gentle.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 11:02 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

I’ve been mailing you a box of DIRT once a year this whole time??? Jesus fucking christ, Max. Do I wanna know??

Forget it. I probably don’t. I’m just glad it wasn’t a head.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 3:53 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

It’s just a little something from home! Helps me sleep. Harmless, no?

Real shame, this whole across the country thing. Would kill to have seen the look on your face when you popped that sucker open.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 4:49 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

Okay, that’s fucking weird, Max. I have, like, so many more questions. What are you doing with it that you need more once a year???

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 5:11 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

I need more when I move apartments, obviously. Not going to vacuum it up and shake it out of the little bag. Would be filthy—and not the fun kind.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 5:30 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

Wait, you move apartments every year? No wonder you use a PO Box.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 5, 2016 at 7:24 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Anniversary

Company policy. They send me in, I whip a branch into winning shape, then move right along. Gotta let the kids make their own kills eventually!

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Jun 8, 2017 at 12:15 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Call

Hey, I thought about it some more and I guess I’ve decided that if you were going to stalk and murder me you would’ve done it by now (or you’re playing like… the world’s most boring long game), and it might be nice to put a voice to the name. Maybe you have a cool accent?

Anyway, here’s my phone number I guess?

This feels so awkward for no reason.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Jun 10, 2017 at 11:29 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Call

I’ll call when I wrap up on Friday. Should be between meetings at 6 your time!

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Thu, Jun 11, 2017 at 8:00 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Call

You’re totally going to make me regret giving you my phone number, aren’t you?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Thu, Jun 11, 2017 at 6:02 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Call

Sorry, sweetheart. No going back now.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Nov 9, 2017 at 3:48 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: [No Subject]

Dawn,, ,

aRe you asleep? You better be aslepe. But if youre awake, call me. I like your voice,

Think this guy was rpetty drunk. Maybe high. Tha’ts my bad. HOpe my autocorrect is saving this but I mean it if you’re awake I wanna hear your voice, Okay?

Your, s Max

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Nov 9, 2017 at 9:10 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

You know, I don’t think I’ve ever received a drunk email before. It’s much better than a drunk phone call - these screenshots will live forever.

Anyway, I’m guessing you’re asleep right now (you better be) but you’re probably gonna feel like shit whenever you get up. I nonetheless expect a full report on my desk of all your debauchery tomorrow. Your coworkers seem rowdy as hell. I don’t know how you get anything done.

Happy headache!

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Nov 9, 2017 at 6:04 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

Sorry, honey. Tales of my debauchery are far too scandalous to be immortalized in writing. All disclosures must be done in person, off record, so you’re shit out of luck—serves you right for your little screenshots. So mean.

I won’t forget this.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Nov 9, 2017 at 6:23 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

You can pout all you like, Maxwell. You like the sound of my voice and I’ve got cold hard proof. Can’t take it back now!

Okay, but really, that’s gotta be the best email I’ve ever received (you’re competing against newsletters I don’t remember signing up for and updates from my cousins about their ten thousand offspring, but still, the title stands).

And you’ve got a pretty nice voice too, I guess. I can see how you swindle all those unsuspecting civilians into forking over their life savings!

Got plans tonight, but I could call tomorrow if you wanted. You can keep me company while I, gasp!, fold some laundry. Pretty exciting stuff for a Monday, I know.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Nov 9, 2017 at 7:10 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

Evening plans? Don’t tell me you’ve got a date, sweetheart. Might break my heart.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Nov 10, 2017 at 10:27 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

Har, har. I do have a life, you know, that doesn’t include being your dirt-runner once a year. Shipper? Smuggler? I kind of like smuggler. Sounds dangerous.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Nov 10, 2017 at 5:53 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

I’d like to think you know you’re more than a “dirt smuggler” to me. Aren’t we friends? Three years isn’t nothing, you know. I don’t keep just anyone around.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Nov 10, 2017 at 7:42 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: [No Subject]

Jesus, Max. You make it sound like I should be fucking thanking you for talking to me. That feels pretty shitty.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Nov 10, 2017 at 7:47 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Ugh ignore my last email, sorry

Sorry. My night was shit but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I know you were joking. If you still want to call, I wouldn’t mind hearing your voice. And I really do have laundry to fold. I could use someone barking at me to do it.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Nov 10, 2017 at 11:08 PM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Ugh ignore my last email, sorry

I meant what I said, honey. That guy has no idea how bad he’s missing out, and I’d be happy to pay him a little visit on your behalf. You’d be surprised how intimidating I can be, when the need arises. Very scary.

Don’t be shy, hm? Always happy to boss someone around.

Sleep tight.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 2:22 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Delivery

Thought it was about time I send you a little mail—should be arriving shortly.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 7:41 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery [Sent with 1 attachment]

Hey… is this for real?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 7:56 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

I don’t joke about airfare, honey. Ticket’s real and all yours—we’re long overdue for a little meet-up, don’t you think? Wanna see my smuggler’s pretty face in the flesh.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 9:12 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

I’m picturing you in your late 60s, with a beer belly, comb-over, and black teeth. Am I close? Wait - don’t tell me. I want it to be a horrible, hideous surprise.

Thanks, by the way. I don’t really know what to say.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 9:30 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

I’ll try not to let you down at the big reveal.

Happy birthday.

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 10:09 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

By the way… is this a good time to break it to you that my name isn’t actually Dawn?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 10:10 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

EXCUSE ME???

From: Dawn <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 10:17 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

You were a stranger on craigslist!! This is a burner email so I don’t get stalked and chopped up into little pieces when I reply to sketchy ads. I didn’t know we’d end up friends. I never knew how to slip that in casually. My bad.

But you can’t be mad at me on my birthday. So don’t be mad.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, May 2, 2018 at 10:18 AM To: Dawn <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Delivery

My world is shattered. You’re killing me, baby.

I want your real email, please. And name.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Jul 22, 2018 at 5:41 PM To: You Subject: Visit

Hi. Just got word a company-wide conference has been moved up to next week. Mandatory attendance, blah blah blah. Boring. Turns out they can’t have the boss of the highest earning branch playing hooky. Boo :-(

Can we move your flights to next month? Want to give you my undivided attention—promise I’ll make it up to you.

From: You Date: Sun, Jul 22, 2018 at 5:43 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Visit

Wait, for real? My flight’s in like… 5 days. I booked the time off work two months ago.

I don’t mind if you’ve got work stuff while I’m there! Sorta figured you’d be working at least part of the time I’m in town - I’m happy to entertain myself. We can just hang out whenever you’re done.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sun, Jul 22, 2018 at 5:50 PM To: You Subject: Re: Visit

Afraid these conferences tend to run a little… late into the night, and daylight hours aren’t exactly my specialty. Sort of a night owl.

Would hate for you to come all this way and not get to enjoy you. Don’t want any interruptions.

Next month?

From: You Date: Sun, Jul 22, 2018 at 9:21 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Visit

Right.

I’ll have to check if I can move things. Can I let you know?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Aug 15, 2018 at 4:11 AM To: You Subject: Call?

Can I call you this week? Hate that you’re mad at me. I’m sorry about our visit, baby. Just talk to me. What about next month, could you come then? Is your sister still in town? You could still come now, before end of quarter ramps up!

From: You Date: Wed, Aug 17, 2018 at 11:24 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Call?

I told you I wasn’t able to get my vacation time back. If you want to see me so badly, maybe you should fly here. It really sucked when you blew me off.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Wed, Aug 17, 2018 at 7:51 PM To: You Subject: Re: Call?

Travel doesn’t agree with me. Too much sunlight. It’s complicated. Plus I wanna show you my place. It’s very swanky, you know. Has a huge tub. You’d love it. And I’ll get you all your favorite snacks, hm? Won’t have to lift a finger—I’ll take care of everything. Just need you to come here, okay? I can explain in person.

I’ll call after this meeting wraps. If you send me to voicemail, I’m just gonna try again. I can be very persistent, you know.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Sat, Aug 19, 2018 at 1:32 AM To: You Subject: Please

This whole ignoring Max song and dance is getting old. Forgive me already! Work was out of my hands, but I miss talking to you. Like getting your little emails, even when you’re teasing me. I miss calling you. We don’t have to talk! I can listen to you fold your laundry and you can hate me the whole time.

Feeling a little pathetic over here, baby. Put me out of my misery.

From: Lily of the Valley Florist <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Aug 20, 2018 at 3:00 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Your order has been delivered!

From: Lily of the Valley Florist <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Aug 27, 2018 at 2:15 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Your order has been delivered!

From: Rocky Mountain Chocolate <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Sep 18, 2018 at 12:49 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Your order has been delivered!

From: Lily of the Valley Florist <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 3 2018 at 12:49 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Your custom order has been delivered!

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 3 2018 at 3:59 PM To: You Subject: Today

Hey, you know what today is?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Tue, Oct 6, 2018 at 7:03 PM To: You Subject: Miss my smuggler

I know you’ve put me on ice—would still really like to talk about that, by the way—but it’s coming up on refill season, so to speak…

Need to talk to you. I know you’ve blocked my number and that the flowers are arriving. Do you like them? Are you allergic? I had to guess. Thought you might be a ranunculus girl, but I’m open to notes, you know. I’m very trainable.

Just tell me what to do to make it up to you. Let me take care of you.

From: You Date: Fri, Oct 9, 2018 at 9:47 AM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: Miss my smuggler [Sent with 1 attachment]

Sent your box. Here’s the tracking info.

The flowers are beautiful but please stop sending them. I don’t have enough vases and it’s getting a little ridiculous.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Fri, Oct 9, 2018 at 6:03 PM To: You Subject: Re: Miss my smuggler

So what I’m hearing is… you liked the flowers?

From: Lily of the Valley Florist <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 12 2018 at 2:47 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Your custom order has been delivered!

From: You Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 4:30 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: *waving white flag*

Okay, I’ve unblocked your fucking number. Please stop sending flowers. I surrender. Oh my god.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 4:39 PM To: You Subject: Re: *waving white flag*

It’s the ranunculus, isn’t it?

From: You Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 5:10 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: *waving white flag*

What’s the ranunculus?

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 5:11 PM To: You Subject: Re: *waving white flag*

Your favorite flower. I guessed it right.

From: You Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 5:14 PM To: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Subject: Re: *waving white flag*

Shut up.

Please resume groveling on the phone. And no more flowers. I mean it.

From: Max Phillips <[email protected]> Date: Mon, Oct 12, 2018 at 5:19 PM To: You Subject: Fwd: Your flight has been booked!

No more flowers. Cross my heart.

One little tweak—how about I do that groveling in person? Snagged a seat on a red eye.

dividers by @saradika-graphics! thanks again to jo for hosting the dearuary challenge - this was so much fun.

#max phillips fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #max phillips #max phillips x you #max phillips x reader #bloodsucking bastards #almostfoxglove #myfics #jolapenosdearuary #pedro pascal

300 notes · View notes

dilf-docs · 1 month ago

Text

He Comes Alive At Midnight (Every Night)

max phillips x younger fem!reader

summary: everyone in your office is turning into vampires. literally. the unbelievable scenario only seems to get worst when you find out the one behind it all is your ex-boss, max phillips.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, dubcon, choking, thigh riding, bit of dry humping?, oral (f. receiving), p. in v., creampie, overstimulation, rough sex, dom!max, tw: blood, blood kink, stalking themes, humilliation kink

word count: 6,005 words

side note: hi. this movie sucked ass. and yes, yet again i've watched a movie for a man (are we surprised!). it was the camp so-bad-it's-fun type of movie, but at least me and @ann-gell had a good time. also, the random matthew lillard cameo wtf- we were both in shock IJBOL but anyway, we wanted to watch this movie for a while 'til the "blood kink fic" became a joke, but then i qtd a post in twitter abt the movie,, it was divine intervention atp. please enjoy while i cook the three joel miller fanfics inside my draft soup. GUYS IF THIS FLOPS I WILL KILL U ALL THEN MYSELF AND NO JOEL DADDY MILLER FICS FOR U

This day couldn't get any worse.

First, Evan and Tim had been bothering you all morning. Your fault? Being Amanda's best friend in the office. You had told the men to (not so) kindly fuck off, and then the big boss had called you to his office to inform you about great news: you had to help Evan and Andrew's slacker ass to finish the Phallusite presentation. Just fucking great. Also, you woke up to find the knob of your main door broken. How? No idea, but you were just tired of the day, begging for it to end. But it's just started.

And it's about to get worse.

"Hey, y/n" you raise your view, stopping your typing. It's Evan, again.

"I think I was clear this morning" you say, not bothering to keep on looking at him.

"It's not about Amanda" you chuckle, and he sighs at your reaction. "Ted wants everyone on his office"

"Is this the part where you expect me to ask?" you drop, sardonic.

"He says he's got an announcement to make" it's not hard to miss the hopeful glint on his eyes. He bends over your cubicle and whispers, "I think he's going to make me sales manager"

You don't have time to entertain the man. No one in particular (sadly, just the customers, because that's about your job), but less the man partly responsible for your new assignment. So this means you too don't have motivation at all to assist to your boss' meeting, but hey, it's your job-- not like there's an option there.

In the end, the announcement was indeed about the sales manager position that had been empty as for now. But it only takes a turn for the worst for both you and Evan.

"So, I'm proud to announce our new manager of sales, Max Phillips"

Enter him: confident strut and cocky smirk. He takes off his dark shades (who in their right mind wears sunglasses inside an office barely grazed by light?) as people clap.

It's like the world stops.

"No, no, no. Not Max" you hear Tim whisper next to you. You turn your head, eavesdropping on their conversation as Mike asks him who the hell Max is. "Max, Evan and I went to college together. It's kind of a long story"

"That wasn't long" Andrew counters. Mike agrees.

"Oh, did I mention that Max slept with Evan's girlfriend, so Evan had Max kicked out of school for cheating, so Max punched Evan in the face?" he adds.

You raise an eyebrow.

"No. You skipped all that"

"Hey, y/n. You okay?" Tim nudges you with his elbow as Max keeps talking, but your brain has reduced his voice to a loud pitched ring.

"Huh?"

"You're pale" Andrew agrees.

You scoff. "Can't a girl be pale anymore this days?"

"Well" Mike coughs. Of course. "You're not exactly-"

"What's that noise behind?" Ted catches up on your chatter.

Now you figure you've gone at least ten shades lighter. Practically a fucking ghost by now.

Especially when he sees you. Oh, his auburn carry a wicked gleam, and he's licking his lips as he locks his eyes into you, despite being glued to the corner behind the rest of your coworkers.

"Sales is... seduction" he drops the word, gaze not leaving yours. Evan seems to notice, looking over his shoulder to see it's you who Max is looking at. "And when you seduce, do you say: I have a 401k? or I floss? No. You say... I love you"

You gulp down, nervously, your throat oddly constricted.

"Why is this guy looking at you?" Tim asks. You can't find the words to answer.

He continues talking, leaving you alone, but by the way he smirked, you know this is just the beginning.

And you're back to where it started: the sunny California, your old life in LA. You had a job, friends and a boyfriend. It was nice, like an ice cream while watching the sunset. It was safe-- this was all you knew.

Enter Max.

Your friends stopped talking to you, turning into weird versions of themselves: they only seemed to know how to work, fuck, not sleep and repeat. Then, your boyfriend broke up with you: couldn't even scramble off words to form a good excuse, despite being together for four years. And then the worst of it all: him, your boss, who couldn't stop finding ways to get under your skin, your back hitting all the walls of the office, where he'd corner your shaking frame. Words always seemed to be lost when Max breathed over you, his cologne still on your clothes as you arrived home. You rejected every advance with a silent temperance, not even giving him the pleasure of a reply. So then it started: the missing clothes, the broken windows and the previously locked doors open.

Suddenly, the knob this morning doesn't feel like a simple mistake and more of a sinister coincidence, making the pit in your stomach sink further.

You had left, hoping it was all in the past. But now he's here, talking about making a million dollar in sales this month like he hadn't ruin your life.

"It's aggressive, yes" Max agrees while sitting on Ted's desk, legs sprawled open on a manspread, "but I'm confident we can hit it. And if we don't, Ted and I have already agreed... we'll be forced to kill all of you"

A cold shiver runs down your back. You don't know what Max Phillips is capable of, but you believe it.

"So you better do what he says!" encouraging, but feels like a threat.

You catch Evan stay behind, probably to talk with Ted about what the fuck just happened. You would too, but how could you explain it? That your ex-boss had found a way to sneak back into your life, slithering with a deathly venom into your new office's grounds. It is during this brief stop that something hard collides against you. Well, someone. And of course, that someone is him.

"Small world, huh?" he chuckles. Before you can even think of replying, his broad shoulders brush with yours in a swift manner as he passes by, yet it feels like a deliberate violent hit. You watch him close the door of his office, which used to be Evan's, sliding his name over the position's plaque. He could've slid a knife over your throat as well and it would've felt the same.

Weird things had happened. First, the new intern dissapeared. No one noticed, of course, but you cared about these small things. Then, Dave started acting all weird and aggressive, long gone the pathetic man who only talked about his cat and couldn't bring himself to ask back the money he was owed.

And the office got darker, because you never needed glasses, but now seemed to squint your eyes to read your computer's screen. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep: you hadn't been able to close your eyes, rather positioned yourself in watch at your door, prepared for anything to happen. So far, nothing, but you wouldn't fool yourself to let your guard down.

Now, you sit with both Andrew and Evan as you try to finish the Phallusite presentation; everyone else has gone home.

"And you can call me Ward Cleaver 'cause I just banged out June"

"Nice"

You roll your eyes at their antics.

It's Andrew's turn. "You can call me Uncle Ben because I just nailed May"

Didn't uncle Ben die?

You keep it to yourself. Then, they both look at you, expecting.

"Call me Fed-Ex, because I always deliver!"

Andrew winces. Evan sighs, giving you an awkward smile.

"There was an attempt"

"Fuck you, guys. It was good!"

"Oh, shit" Evan curses. "Zabeth only brought up the hard copies through July" he looks at Andrew, "can you run downstairs and get August?"

He's not fully convinced, but then he's gone. Evan looks at you, and you give him a weird look.

"Why do you look at me like that?"

"I'm about to do something I shouldn't" he pauses. "Don't tell anyone"

You cross your arms over your chest. "You're overestimating how much I care"

"It's about Max"

He must've sensed your change in demeanor, the mask slipping for a brief moment, because he grins in satisfaction.

"Oh, it seems I'm not the only one with shared history with Phillips, huh?"

You spin your chair around, back facing him. "I don't want to talk about that"

"We don't have to" he's quick to agree. "I just want to get rid of him" Evan makes a pause, hoping you're in. When you turn around, seems like you are, "will you help me?"

Getting rid of Max Phillips (again) sounds the closest heaven on earth.

"But you can't tell anyone else about this" you pause, "or about me and Max"

"Whatever it is" he assures, "I'm taking it to my deathbed"

You purse your lips. "I'm still not telling you"

"Oh" he barely hides his dissapointment. "Okay, yeah. Not like I was expecting it-"

You get up from your chair. "Let's go"

"Right"

That night, you both broke into his office. Inside, you recognized Amanda's folder. It contained the profiles of your coworkers. The cutting employees was real then, huh? To confirm your theory, some pictures were circled while others were crossed over with red marker: Mike was crossed, and he was gone. Curiously, neither you nor Evan had anything scribbled over. You reach the last profile on the file: Ted, your boss. Crossed.

"We have what we need. You are free to go home and get some rest" he palms the file. "Tomorrow is a big day. Max Phillips will be history, and that's all that matters"

"And the meeting"

He seems to remember. "Right, sorry"

After biding proper goodbyes, you drive home, but your mind is elsewhere as you pass empty dim-lit streets. All you can think of is Max hadn't made a decision on you yet. Worse, you didn't know if that's good or bad.

You toss around in bed, unable to find some sleep. Glancing at the clock in the nighstand, and it reads three in the morning.

This is crazy. But you still get out of bed, shower, do your make up and speed the brakes back to the office.

Maybe it was the anxiety for Max's appearence or the Phallusite deal, you ponder as you ride the elevator up, which is why you're real early to your office day. You will practice, you tell yourself, and master the presentation until the words are ingraned into your brain.

You're in the middle of a slide when a sound catches your ear. You look around: it's not even five in the morning, the sun is still down, and aside from you, there's no one else in the building.

You try to calm yourself down, blaiming an animal or the wind. But then it sounds again. You get up from your desk, shaky legs doing a small round.

"Hello?" you ask into the eerie silence, "is anyone there?"

You walk towards your desk again, ready to sit down, when there's a banging sound heard from downstairs. Now you start to realize you never saw Andrew come back.

A cold shiver runs down your spine. You gulp, harshly, and jolt back to your desk. In a rush, you grab your things, but as you zip your bag, a swoosh passes by through you. Kneeling down, you hide below your desk. And then you hear it. Steps. Menacing, paused steps. You cover your mouth, trying not to make a sound, while the other one clutches your bag so hard, your hand turns white.

The steps move away, but the exit seems so far away. You take your chances, and run to the first door you can see. Inside, you lock it as fast as you can, bag dropping to the floor when a loud banging starts on the other side. You tremble in the dark office, thinking this is it: no presentation, no getting rid of Max. No, you would pathetically die in a telemarketing office.

"Go away!" you pleadingly cry to whoever, or whatever, is on the other side. "Leave me alone, please!"

The banging stops. Just like that? You doubt your good luck. Then, how was that phrase again?

If the predator leaves the prey, is because he has become it.

You pray to God, close your eyes and accept your fate. But then the lights turn on.

"Hello, little dove"

(The nickname. He had call you that once, laughing at the way your eyes avoided his gaze, like a coward. How the hairs on your cold skin had prickled, the blood rushing to your cheeks in a delicious red Max couldn't stop thinking about. You had worn white that day: the day he decided he was going to make your life impossible)

You could be deaf and still recognize the voice. Your body gives up, falling to the floor. Your heart and yesterday's reheated lasagna you had for lunch rise up in your throat.

What a terrible sick joke.

He, the one you had escaped from before. He, who you pictured be gone as of today, now cornering you inside an office you had locked yourself, outside God knows what.

He, Max Phillips in the flesh.

"Max" you say his name like it's forbidden.

You refuse to meet him in the eye, gaze trained to the floor.

"You have to calm down, y/n. Your heart is going like crazy!" he jumps up from his chair, where he had been previously sitting, legs drapped over his desk. "Tell me, what's got you so worried?"

Taunting. Mocking. Downright cruel. Like he spat in your face.

"Hey, I'm talking to you" his voice is soft, but then his fingers dig in your arm, pulling you up with a surprising strength. You yelp as Max raises you in your feet, still refusing contact. "I'm your boss, y/n. Don't forget that. I could get your little bratty ass kicked out, so you better do as I say"

You feel his breath ghost over your face in rapid puffs. It's too quiet. His fingers press on the soft tissues of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, eliciting a cry out of you.

"And look at me when you speak"

"You" you seethe out, tongue dripping in venom.

"Me?" he chuckles amused, "what about me, little dove?"

(You, who ruined my life. Who made me leave behind everything and everyone I knew. The reason why I was scared to leave my house and meet strangers in the eye. You, Max, who despite it all, lingers in my mind. Who's under my skin, deep in the dirty marrow of my bones, in my flesh, in my veins, rushing through with the same guilty pleasure nicotine does)

"I escaped from you once" you spit. "I will do it again. But you won't ruin my life this time"

He lets out a big laugh, right in your face. It makes your blood run cold.

"You think you escaped from me? Aw, little dove. That's adorable" he chuckles darkly. "You won because I let you"

It comes crashing down with the weight of a sinking ship.

"W-what...?"

A satisfied smirk paints across his features. "That's right, y/n. Let you get away just to see your pretty face shine in satisfaction. Have I told you how I love when your eyes shine when you think you've won? I gotta say, I missed it. Seeing them closed while you sleep isn't the same" he sighs, his face now practically buried against yours, and you swear you feel his teeth graze it when Max opens his mouth to speak. "Had to have the very real thing in front of me"

The open windows and broken locs. He had been there: inside the safety of your home, the illusion now gone.

"Liar" you grit, "you sick fuck"

"Face it" his nose digs in your flushed cheek, hand still on your chin. He takes a whiff out of your smell, the vainilla making him dizzy: it's the same one he remembers. Your scent is so inviting, mixed with your fear, that it makes him lick his lips. "You're as obssesed with me as I am with you"

"I don't know what makes you think that" his head dives to your collarbones. You squirm as his wet tongue licks a sleazy trail through your neck, staying on a spot.

"Oh, but I think you do" and his mouth starts to suck on that spot until the skin cries in a purple rain. "Thought I wouldn't notice, huh? Your perfume is all over my office, baby. Can I ask, what where you doing here"

His other hand smacks harshly against your chest. It travels up, until it gets to the valley of your tits. He slides it inside the fabric of your white button up blouse, your heartbeat bellow.

"And don't try to lie to me" he threats in a low rumble, "because I'll know when you do"

"The papers, in your desk" you manage to whisper out. "Came to see who you were firing and who was staying"

"And was it just you?"

"Y-yes" you feel his squeeze one of your tits between his fingers, the calloused digits imprinting themselves on the plush skin.

"You sure?" you yelp when he roughly grabs a breast. "Have you already forgotten what I told you, little dove, huh? Or ar my hands too... distracting"

You let out a sharp breath. "Evan was there too"

"Fucking coward" he spits. "Can't get over our little fight still. Did he tell you what happened?"

You nod.

"Good, then you're aware I'm the better thing" his hand leaves your chest, but the other one still grabs you from your chin. Your eyes close when his free hand finds its way to your neck, his big fingers wrapping around your throat. As you feel a moan ready to leave your mouth, you sink your teeth into your lower lip. There’s no way you'll give him that satisfaction. "Looking so pretty with my hand around you"

His thumb presses on your weak spot, making you gasp for air.

"I need you to be a good girl and swear on it"

You squirm under his weight pressed on you, but it's futile.

"I swear on my life that I'll be a good girl" your lungs burn when you say it.

His grip on your throat tightens. "Say that again"

You gulp with difficulty. "I swear"

He slams your body against the wall. "Say it!"

"I swear!" you cry out, "I swear!"

"Good" he chuckles darkly. "Because this time, I'll make sure of it"

He finally cuts the distance, trapping your lips in his. He's pulling you closer by your waist, your name dropping from his mouth in a sultry sickeningly sweet voice.

"You know you can touch if you want, right?" he taunts, seeing how you ball your fists to the sides. "I'm all yours"

Your brain begs you to keep fighting, but you're stuck in the way his mouth feels in yours: invasive, like the way he'd stalk you, violating every bit of privacy, destroying every sense of safety you had. Now, he's eating you out, tongue in your insides as he chases your touch, his hand taunting your back with fleeting touches, up and down in your back, waiting for the moment you cave in.

A breathy moan pushes past your lips.

"Max" falls past your treacherous mouth, body dizzy and confused with pleasure.

You drap your leg over his hip, the pencil skirt riding up your thighs, as he puts his hand below to support it. With your fingers, you grab his short hair.

"That's right, little dove" he humms in approval. "Surrender yourself to me"

His thigh parts a space between your legs, thick muscle now grinding against your warmth.

"Please" you whimper at the friction.

He chuckles at that, eyes darkening.

"You sound so pretty when you beg"

You mewl at the praise, rolling your hips back and forth on his thigh. The pressure on your folds burns like a candle: a warm burn, intense yet gentle. Max moves his knee slowly, trying to even your desperate movements. The air burns yet again in your lungs, and only then you allow yourself to kiss him.

He's quick to reciprocate, his palm cupping your cheek, the size so big, it practically covers all of your face. He swallows your moans in the heat of the kiss, and you only pull back when you need to breath.

Max then takes the chance to get to your neck again, sucking on the skin hungrily, especially on that one spot he had licked before. At the same time, his hard cock runs against your clothed pussy, his hips meeting where you rub yourself each time.

You roll your head to the side, reduced to a whimpering mess.

He tears open your blouse, buttons flying as he takes the opportunity to dip his head in your collarbones, nipping at the skin as he gets rid of it completely.

"Oh, little dove" he touches your waist as your hands grip at his back. "You're so beautiful, my sweet temptress. Lurking around, ever since California, couldn't stop thinking about you. Needed to have you, all for me"

He slides the lace of your bra in a harsh tug, almost ripping the lingerine. Now, your breasts are fully exposed, and the nipples perk with the cold hitting them. With one swift move, he picks you up and throws you into his desk, the papers flying everywhere. Max is back at the task of kissing your neck, like he's fascinated by it.

"Enough of the games, eh" he mocks your fucked-out state. "Gonna give you the real goods, yes? So you'll see why both Evan's college ex girlfriend and Amanda prefer me"

Once your skirt is rode up, he grinds his exposed cock against your pussy, your dripping wet folds receiving the change―the contact without layers anymore―in a welcoming fluttering clench at nothing.

"So wet for me" Max rasps, leaving hickeys down your neck until he can finally kiss your collarbones. He's then sucking on your skin, his teeth brushing against your skin. "Can you feel that?" you squirm, "that's how much I want you, y/n. Need to take a bite of you"

He can feel your pulse quicken, the smell of your arousal deepening as his teeth scrape against your skin.

"Bite?" you ask, despite the way your head is dizzy. "Why?"

"Use that pretty head of yours, little dove" he mocks, "and think: why is everyone in this office acting weird now? There's your answer"

"I-I don't get it" you whine.

His eyes darken, and you swear his teeth get pointer.

"Don't worry. You soon will"

The first time his teeth sink, your head stops working. Your ears ring, and there's this burning sensation that comes in waves, washing over you until all you feel is nothing. Numb. The room spins, skin tingling like crazy. You moan and tangle your fingers in his hair as he harshly sucks and then he releases it again to bite into your flesh. The bite goes deep, fangs piercing your skin, electric pleasure courses through you, forcing you to yelp because you weren’t ready for it.

"Just a taste, baby" he groans. "Just a little taste"

But then slurping sounds bounce off the walls, and you begin to see dark spots in your vision. Max moans, sounds drowned in the crook of your neck as he takes another bite, cock throbbing in his pristine pants.

"Fuck, y/n. You do know how to satisfy a man's hunger"

He traps your mouth with his, tongue pushing past your lips. You can feel the metallic taste of your own blood as he keeps grinding against you.

"M-Max" you squirm under his insistent grinding and abuse of your skin. He just chuckles, rubbing his fingers over your clothed pussy. You grip his arm for support, your nails sinking on his bicep. He hisses at the sting, but by the way he's smiling, that's the least of his worries.

"You're soaked, little dove. Don't tell me you're getting off at my teeth in your skin?" he raps, "on me feeding from you"

Max places a hand on your pussy, making you gasp and squirm.

"Don't worry, fun's just getting started"

You bite your lip so hard, blood pours out. You swear, even in your hazy vision, that he licks his lips. Then, with a wet lazy trace of his tongue, he licks it off your lips. He gawks at your face, hungrily so.

You look ruined, and he had just taken one small bite.

His eyes fall to your free breasts. Max can hear the sound of the pump of your veins, the rush addictive. He leans down with a smile, tongue darting across your sensible tits. Your boss can't help it when his teeth sink again in your skin, ichor pouring out in a lustful trail he's quick to lick off. You claw at his back, begging him to stop, but he's got you at his mercy, pinned under him, his bites now deeper as he growls at the sweet nectar maroon taste of you. He lets go, releasing your bruised flesh from his hungry greedy mouth.

"Fuck" he mutters, running a hand through his now disheveled hair. "If I don't stop now, I'll be at it for hours; whole office will come back and find you over my desk, begging and moaning. But we don't want to put on a show, do we?"

Yet his hand slips between your legs, fingers pushing your panties to the side. All you can do is squirm, wimpering as he's tracing your pussy, coating his digits with your slick.

"Tell me, little dove. Is your blood as sweet as this pussy?" Max sucks his fingers, an obscene slurping sound coming out of his mouth. The taste of your sweet ichor and your arousal... it's too much, even for a man as experienced as him. "Use your words to tell me how this feels"

His fingers part your folds, touching your clit. You blabber nonsense, and Max darkly laughs at how easy it was to have you under him, moaning and squirming because of his mouth and touch.

"Talk to me" he lulls, caressing your cheek. "Where did that loud mouthed brat go, huh? Or all it took was my fingers inside this pretty pussy for you to be an obedient good girl?"

That's what makes it hotter, he thinks. That you, who ran away from him, but now are so wet and sensitive, like you hadn't defied him in the past and ignored all his efforts to woo you.

"N-no" you stutter, eyes squeezed shut.

"No, what?" Max mocks. Then, snaps his fingers in your face. "Hey, look at me" he grabs your chin roughly. "You look at me when I fuck you, understood?"

When you open your eyes, a few tears spill out, the pleasure deeply rooted in the pain.

"Good girl" he praises, then licks the side of your face where the salty drops have fallen.

He drops on his knees, hand cupping all of your knee as his mouth leaves wet sloppy kisses on your thighs, up to your core. You writhe, twisting your fists at your sides until they turn white.

"Let me reward you properly" he adds under his breath, but before you can ask what he means, Max's fangs bare in your inner thigh, making you scream his name. He then sucks on the bite. He releases your thigh until he's done, moaning deeply.

"So good" he groans against your warm skin, your blood on his mouth acting like a lipstick of some sorts, red imprints of his mouth up your inner thigh. "Now, let's get to the point, shall we? It's almost time" the sun rising in the back a reminder of the running clock.

First, he pulls your skirt off. Then, he hooks his fingers in your panties and rips them off. Without loosing time, Max's hungry form is quick to bury his mouth in your pussy, your blood and your slick mixing in a combination that strains his pants.

He puts your legs over his shoulders, keeping you parted for his hungry mouth. His tongue laps at your entrance, doing circling minstrations around your clit, his moans of pleasure sending vibrations that make your walls flutter and pussy clench.

"My little dove" he coos, tongue poking his sharp fangs. Max's chin is dripping with your slick, and he licks off some of it. "Can't get enough of you"

You roll your head to the side arching your back.

"P-please" you beg, "don't stop"

He squeezes your thigh, red droplets of blood oozing out of your punctured skin. Max sucks hard, strong fingers keeping you hostage and cock growing in desperation as your legs tremble. He lets out a deep growl, slipping his fangs out of your flesh. You whimper when he kisses your pussy with a soft press of his lips.

"I won't. Not when you're being such a good girl"

With a desperate quick motion, he gets rid of his belt and pulls out of his pants, moving closer to your cunt with his heavy cock grazing on your bare cunt. He spanks your clit with it, making you mewl at the lingering sting.

"Will you keep being a good little docile bird for me, dove? I will give it to you if you behave"

"Please, please, please" you beg, long gone in the pain of your pussy clenching at nothing, the need to have him inside of you blurring the world around of you. "I was a good girl, let me have it"

Whatever he's done to you, you're too far gone in your fucked-out brain to make sense of this: your boss, bending you over his desk, fucking you and kissing you like you weren't disgusted by his invasive antics, like he hadn't just sucked your blood with fangs you'd never seen before.

A fucking vampire, as real as the way he's handling your body which is closer to ecstasy than ever.

"Then do" Max growls, pushing inside.

You let out a sharp breath, eyes closing shut as your toes curl inside your heels.

"That's right, baby, take all of me" he rasps, grinding his teeth. "I know your tight little pussy can"

He starts to move, and you feel so full of him, you can barely breath. You mewl, arching your back with each thrust, your body spasming and wet down your legs. Max hums satisfied, looking at you.

"Fucking work of art" his voice drips with adoration out loud.

But how can he contain himself? If you look so perfect, all spread out and claimed by him. Breasts covered in his bite marks, thighs still red from all the bloody kisses he left on your skin and neck marked by him.

"You're mine, get it? Gonna ruin this perfect pussy for any other man, little dove. You belong to me"

Desperate moans fill the room as his pace picks up, fast, as your body consumes him whole. The way your warmth wraps his cock, your fluttering walls, the taste of your arousal, and your sweet blood makes him feel like the most powerful man in the world as he pounds into your tight walls.

"Mine. Mine, all mine" he repeats. "Don't fucking forget that"

He angles his cock deep into you, grinding his pubic bone against your clit as his girth pumps up and down. He can feel his throbbing cock pulse inside of your sticky folds at the sight of you: so far gone, so ruined. Can't believe this is the same girl who claimed to hate him.

Every little sound, every sharp breath and wet slpa of skin against skin is for him. Your nails clawing at his back and arms, the way your head and eyes fall back... how you say his name... Who is crazier, him or you?

"Max..." you exhale, barely able to control your body. "I think I'm-"

"I know, little dove" he taunts. "I think I can tell when I make a girl feel good"

His face goes again to hide in the crook of your neck, hot ragged breath warming the spot.

"Be a little obedient bird and come for me"

A sharp sting makes you scream as you come undone, body convulsing and pussy clenching around him, massaging his girth, coaxing out every last drop of his release at the same time Max's sucking blood out of your neck.

"Sorry, my sweetest y/n. I can't hold back when your sweet scent is taunting me like this" his voice croaks, rough with a primal desire, all consuming. "Had to hold back since the very first day you stepped into the Cali office, with your tight little slutty skirts and open blouse, giving me a delicious peak of your breasts..."

His head falls back with a tight growl, voice strained with the effort of not cumming on the spot.

"Fuck, y/n, I fucking love this perfect little cunt. So fucking soft and hot and tight, gripping my cock like it never wants to let it go"

His hips don't falter, every ridge and vein of his thick length dragging along your fluttering walls, your pussy seemingly molding itself to his shape. He was right: it was like your body was made for his, like you had been created just to take his cock and milk it for all it was worth.

He could feel it already, his thick cum starting to seep out around his shaft, leaking out of her stuffed hole. Max had marked you, claimed you, in the most primal way possible.

And in a few hours, it was just about to get better.

"You're mine now, little dove" he growls, voice low and possessive as he rolls his hips, grinding against your oversensitive clit, making you gasp and shudder beneath him. "This cunt belongs to me now, you hear me? No one else gets to touch it, gets to fucking have it" he lets out a dark chuckle, "or I'll kill them"

The dark shadow over his eyes tells you he isn't joking at all.

His cock throbbs inside of you, swelling even thicker. He grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he fought to hold back, to make this moment last.

Your eyes are dangerously close to shutting off, the overestimulation reducing you to a panting and blabbering mess.

"No, y/n. You look at me" he commands, voice in a low, dominant bark. "You fucking look at me when I cum, little dove, so you see how good you make me feel as I paint your tight little walls white"

And then, with a loud roar, he brutally slams into you with a final thrust, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pumps thick, hot ropes of cum out of him, filling you up until he could see your belly swell slightly with the sheer volume of his release.

He throws his head back, pointy teeth sinking into his lips to muffle screams as he rutts in you, grinding against your cervix, making sure every last drop of his seed was pumped deep into her womb. His body shudders with the power of his climax, and soon, your boss' body is collapsing over yours.

"Fuck" he pants, looking at how the marks had started to heal. The one on your neck, thought... It's coloring just right. Soon, you'll be by his side. Forever. "I guess that sums another point for me"

He looks up his window, seeing right Evan on the other side, panting in shock.

"And zero for you"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif (unknown pinterest source)

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baronessvonglitter · 6 months ago

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Forever’s Gonna Start Tonight

Max Phillips x gn!reader | WC: 1.7K

Summary: When your vampire boyfriend Max Phillips agrees to turn you, you enjoy one last day as a mortal.

WARNINGS: Rated T, reader is gender neutral, established relationship, some kissing and fluff (as fluffy as Max can get), mentions of vampirism and ways a vampire can be hurt/injured, mentions of blood drinking, one mention of "intimacy" but is not detailed, no gore, mentions of eating food, reader wears a hoodie but is otherwise not described, use of hypnotism, mentions of being bitten, no use of y/n.

Author's Note: This work is for the jolabrew + withcheese fall challenge 🧡 I chose Max Phillips and apple picking 🍎

I'd kept this idea on the very, very back burner because honestly I love the mythology about vampires, and I wanted a soft!Max story, just to shake things up, and this fic challenge helped kickstart that idea into motion. There was absolutely zero information on our guy Max, so I just kind of messed with the lore and added some good ol' vampire myths just for fun 😊 Also, "Total Eclipse of the Heart" was meant to be a vampire love song, hence the title I used 🖤 (Side note: if you don't already squeeze lemon on your apple slices I highly suggest it. It keeps them from turning brown and gives them a little sour bite if you don't like them too sweet)

Thank you to @jolapeno and @goodwithcheese for hosting this lovely challenge!

divider by @strangergraphics👑

Honestly, you made your choice two seconds after Max told you he was a vampire. There were no two ways about it: if he was one, you wanted to be one too.

"Honey.. you need to think about this seriously. It's not some knee-jerk decision. We're talking about the rest of your life.. or afterlife.. unlife?.. that's at stake here."

"You'll outlive me one day," you reminded him. "I don't want that to happen." You snuggled against him, feeling how warm he was, though now that he'd revealed his secret, you started to feel the cold that seeped through his skin, was ever-present in the physiology that still made him a human male, but also something else.. some preternatural creature that was just under the surface. Hiding.. or suppressed.

"I try not to think about that. I haven't been undead that long," he admitted. "Can't we be happy with what we have now?"

It stung, but you tried not to take it too personally. Max was the type to say whatever thought flitted across his brain, be it snarky or sweet, though around others it typically tended towards the former.

From then on, once he knew you would keep his secret, once he put that trust in you that he didn't place in anyone else, you had so many (too many) questions to ask, and Max was as open as he could be regarding your curiosity. Yes, he could walk around in the daytime, but it was a necessity to slather himself in the highest grade SPF that he could only purchase online from a small business in Romania and cost ten times as much as you made in an hour at your job. And it explained why he always had a scent of coconuts beneath the layer of Tom Ford cologne he practically bathed in.

There were some things that could kill him, primarily a stake through the heart. Garlic and holy water made his eyes water and skin burn, temporarily subduing his powers, and you understood why he dissuaded you from eating Italian food when you started dating.

Speaking of the powers (and that was a huge point of curiosity for you), he had strength, speed, hypnosis (although he preferred the term 'powers of persuasion' -- ever the salesman, that one.) Drinking blood powered him, made him strong, and he managed to drink a little to get him through the day, only succumbing to his deeper cravings after hours.

It was this part he didn't want to talk about. He didn't like you thinking of him prowling after his prey, planning his attack, taking what he needed from unsuspecting victims. He'd drunk from you during moments of intimacy, the small, sweet sting of his fangs was something you'd come to like, but you knew it had to be different for those he hunted. You could paint your own picture of such a scenario-- you'd seen enough movies and read enough Anne Rice and Charlaine Harris to put the pieces together of how he had to survive in the shadows.

If anything, it only further endeared him to you.

But when you'd try to press the issue all he did was sidestep it.. at first. When you were persistent he was firm, telling you in no uncertain terms, "No."

"Do you not think I have what it takes?" you'd asked.

"Babe, I don't doubt your ability--"

"Do you just want to keep all your vampiric secrets to yourself?"

He'd sputtered out a laugh despite trying to keep a serious facade. "You're being ridiculous now."

"Then.." you'd used your puppy dog eyes on him, "you don't love me?"

He'd taken your face in his hands, his gaze insistent. "Don't say that. Ever. Okay?" He'd kissed your forehead, taking in the scent of you, just at your hairline.

You'd been patient, dropping hints until one day you'd stopped, a part of you giving up.

But Max didn't like seeing you unhappy.

"All right, all right," he'd relented one night, during a viewing of American Psycho while hanging out at your place. "If you really want me to turn you, I'll do it."

"Max, you will? Really?" you'd beamed with excitement.

"Yes, sweetheart. If you really want it, I'll do it for you."

You'd pounced on him, kissing him as he pulled you down on the sofa with him, the sounds of Patrick Bateman chasing his victim with a chainsaw playing in the background.

You decide on a date: mid-October, your favorite time of year when the leaves crackle underfoot, and there's the sweet odor of chimney smoke in the air. Max tells you you should spend the last day of your human life doing whatever you want to do, and though it's something small, though it probably ranks low on most people's list of priorities before they begin a new life as a vampire, you tell him you want to go apple picking.

A part of you is relieved that Max doesn't poke fun at you, which he usually does when you tell him you want to watch Dead Poets Society instead of The Wolf of Wall Street, or when you'd rather go on the Ferris wheel than the Zipper with him at the carnival.

You typically play it safe, and he respects your playing it safe with your last day as a mortal, because he loves you.

The apple orchard is an hour and a half away, and Max holds your hand over the center console during the entire drive, letting you choose the radio station, and you spot the small twitch of his eye when you turn up the volume on a Taylor Swift song. He keeps his thoughts to himself but his opinion is written plain on his face. Ever the peacemaker, you switch the radio to an oldies station, listening to Bonnie Tyler belting out "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and even though Max refuses to sing along with you, a smile curves the corners of his pretty mouth as he indulges in your joy.

Upon arrival you jump out before the car is even in park, and are greeted with the scent of the sweet and crisp fragrance of the orchard. The skies above are pale blue, tinged with gold from the late afternoon sun's delicate rays. Grey threatens in the corners of the firmament, and you recall checking your phone's weather app and seeing there would be rain that night. You've come on the right day.

Max grabs your hand as you join the others in line, some families with young kids, some couples, and when he's not expecting it you plant a soft kiss on his cheek. Not typically one for PDA, he one-ups you by taking you in his arms and practically bending you backward in a passionate display of romance, lips claiming yours. "My baby doesn't deserve to wait in line," he whispers, and with a devilish grin he pulls you to the front of the line where the cashier is taking payment.

"We don't need to pay," Max tells her, and from the look in the woman's eyes you can tell he's mesmerizing her with his powers.

"You don't need to pay," she repeats in a monotone, handing over a wicker basket for you to collect the apples.

Max smiles at her charmingly, pulling you along as you enter the apple orchard.

There's a chill in the air as you walk into the wide expanse of land, the green of the apple trees and the ruby fruit of their production providing the perfect backdrop for your date. You cross your arms over your hoodie just as Max puts his arm around you.

"I'll never get cold, just like you," you wonder aloud, thinking ahead to your immortal life.

"Right. One of the perks," he grins. He's wearing a dark grey nylon bomber jacket, hair perfectly coiffed, and even though other people are checking him out as you walk by, he only has eyes for you. "You'll never grow old, either. You'll still be hot. Like me," he grins.

"Which ones look good?" he asks, directing your view to the apples red and ripe, swelling with sweetness, their tangy aroma dancing in the air.

You look up and select a few, holding each one in the palm of your hand before twisting the stem off and placing it in the basket looped around your arm. Max watches you, in awe of your thought process, and the careful way in which you make your selections. When the basket gets too heavy he carries it for you.

"Are you going to eat all of these tonight?" he hides a smile.

"Don't underestimate me," you tell him. "I might just do that."

He envisions what your blood will taste like later, at the time of your turning: bitter with hints of spice and sweet, the flavor inhabiting every blood vessel, flooding into his mouth as he begins the process of forever changing you.

Soon the basket is brimming over with sweet, tart apples. Some of them fall out of the basket on the walk back to the car, leaving a scarlet dotted trail behind you.

At home, you gorge yourself on the crisp flesh of your fresh-picked apples in all your favorite forms: sliced plain with a drizzle of lemon juice, some dipped in caramel, others covered in crunchy red candy. Your lips are sticky and sweet when Max kisses you, savoring the warmth of your skin that, come tomorrow, will be colder, room temperature at best, but still soft, still delicious.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his eyes glinting, irises blown full black, like a shark detecting blood in the water around him. You're settled on the sofa, hands linked, fingers intertwined as your heart races. Max senses it and his tongue flicks out across his pink lips.

"Yes," you answer, and for a brief, sweet moment your life flashes before your eyes, a memoriam to all the things you held dear, the good and the awful, the trail of tiny moments, the heartbreaks you thought you'd never heal from, that ultimately led you to Max and the love you uncovered within him as you broke through his egotistical outer shell.

You kept his promise. He knows his trust is well-placed.

As you offer your neck, the last thing you see before you close your eyes is the Castlevania poster Max gave you for Christmas last year, hanging on the wall above the sofa.

Only the death matters now..

You hear the click of his fangs protracting. Soon you'll be just like him. You have no regrets.

"Thank you, Max," you whisper before you feel the hot sting of his bite on your tender throat. "Thank you for the best day of my life."

#fall challenge #jolabrew + withcheese #max phillips #max phillips bloodsucking bastards #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x reader #max philips x reader #max phillips fluff #max phillips fic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu #ppcu fandom #ppcu fanfiction

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oonajaeadira · 1 year ago

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LIGHT AND SHADOW (Max Phillips x f!reader) Masterlist

FANDOM: Bloodsucking Bastards / Max Phillips

READER: Adult female. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

RATING: Mature

No Minors Please: My work is 18+. I will respectfully ask minors to turn away to protect themselves and me. Thank you.

SUMMARY: A vampire takes a liking to you and appoints himself your guardian angel.

NOTES: A horror romance, more creepy than sexy. This story assumes that the Max we see in the films is Evan's version of the story and Max was never defeated, he just transferred to a different company. Max is still an egotistical asshole, but he's also very good with his vampiric gifts and very much not human anymore. This series is ongoing.

_____

LIGHT AND SHADOW SEQUENCE

Light Only Shows You Where The Shadows Are -- The only thing that can get rid of a minor jerk is a major jerk.

Shadows Take Root Within the Heart

A Heart Only Knows The Secrets It’s Been Told

Secrets Are Just Stories In the Dark

___

ONE SHOTS IN THE L&S UNIVERSE

I’ll Leave a Light On For You -- written for a Secret Santa challenge, a tale of a Christmas past that informs Max’s present.

___

CHARACTER MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

#bloodsucking bastards fanfiction #max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x f!reader #horror romance #light and shadow sequence

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wannab-urs · 1 year ago

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Prickly

Prompt #536 - “You’re like a cactus.” / “Because I’m what? Prickly?” / “No, because you can get killed easier than people believe.”

Pairing: Max Phillips x f!reader

Summary: You versus Max... Who will win?

Warnings: minor character death, canon typical violence, referenced smut WC: 391

A/N: Today's actual prompt fill (look ma i met a deadline!) Thanks to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for the beta and the title <3 OH and this takes place in the Hand Over Fist universe

Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi | Hand Over Fist | Prompt Fills

“You’re like a cactus,” you mutter.

“Because I’m what? Prickly?” Max taunts.

“No, because you can get killed easier than people believe.”

“I’d really like to see you try, sweetheart.”

You spin the wooden stake on your palm and stalk across the room toward him. There are bodies scattered across the office floor, vampires and humans alike. It’s down to you and Max.

He grabs a broken office chair and hurls it in your direction, but you dodge it easily.

“You’ll have to try harder than that, Maxxie.”

You grab a stapler off a nearby desk and launch it at his head, but he simply steps out of the way faster than human eyes can track.

The second you’re within his reach, he grabs you – one hand under your thigh and the other around your bicep. Your back hits the floor, Max landing on top of you and pinning your arms by your head.

“Shame. I really thought you’d make this interesting,” he sneers at you.

You smirk at him before driving your knee up into his exposed groin. The shock probably affects him more than the pain, but he lets go of you nevertheless.

You take the opportunity to drive the stake up toward his throat. He grabs your wrist and you use the momentum to flip the two of you.

You straddle his hips and grab his hair with your free hand, yanking his head back at an awkward angle. His growl of frustration quickly turns to a whimper.

He twists your captured wrist until you drop the stake and brings your hand to his throat, his eyes pleading.

“Oh Maxxie, you always make it so easy to win.”

“‘M sorry, mistress. You’re just so much stronger than me,” Max whines, starting to grind his hips into yours.

You close your hand around his throat and press a kiss to his forehead. Dragging your lips down to his ear, you whisper, “No, baby. You’re just weak.”

You roll your hips and Max loses control, face morphing into something angry and red and fangs descending over his trembling bottom lip.

“I’m gonna have to punish you now, baby. Think I’ll make you come in your pants and then leave you here to clean up our mess, yeah?”

Max ruts into the cradle of your hips even more frantically.

“Yes, Mistress.”

@creativepromptfills

#Max Phillips #Max Phillips fics #Max Phillips fanfiction #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x you #Bloodsucking Bastards fanfiction #hand over fist #prompt fills #creativepromptsforwriting #536

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prolix-yuy · 2 years ago

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Oneshots

Reflective: Max Phillips x F!Reader (Part 1)

Effective: Max Phillips x F!Reader (Part 2)

Negotiations: Max Phillips x F!Reader

#fanfic masterlist #max phillips x you #max phillips x reader #max phillips x f!reader #bloodsucking bastards fanfiction

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carusolikey · 1 year ago

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The Blue Hour

a Max Phillips & Bloodsucking Bastards FanFic

Don't get your Easter Eggs in a scramble, we'll sort you out right here!

Return to Chapter 2

Return to Masterlist!

Chapter 2 - I guess you could say things are getting a little serious.

"Scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling - the Cullins family, old Mr. Feeney, little Old Mrs. White whose husband just passed away last year, the Partridge family with all of their little kids." Right off the bat! I've "homage'd" names from fictional television and movie families:

The Cullin vampire family of Twilight, in a story about a vampire it just makes sense. Mr. Feeney, the curmudgeonly, but beloved teacher from Boy Meets World. Mrs. White, as in Betty White - and in my mind, specifically her character from the classic horror (comedy? funny to me!) Lake Placid. The Partridge Family from The Partridge Family, the other musical family from the 1970's who hung out in a Piet Mondrian (Dutch Painter who did all of the lines and squares with primary colors that everybody loved then and loves now, why not?) homage'd bus.

"I buried my head under the covers and practiced mindful breathing, 8 seconds in, hold for 8, breathe out for 8."

This is a method of breathing known as box breathing - it's super helpful for anyone experiencing stress, panic attacks, and some forms of PTSD. “When we’re anxious, we breathe shallowly and quickly, which actually creates more anxiety within your body,” Dr. Young explains. “We can use breathwork to move out of the fight-or-flight state and into that parasympathetic nervous system.”

This article from the Cleveland Clinic provides a little more information for anyone interested in utilizing the practice as a coping mechanism or meditation technique (as always, this is something to be used in conjunction with a trusted medical professional).

"Wearing my favorite classic baby tee with a pic of Jake Ryan from 16 Candles on it that says, “I ❤️ Jake Ryan” --

This is one of those classic 80's teen rom-coms. But it definitely hasn't aged well, so I'm not going to include a trailer for it, because IYKYK, and if you don't - all you really need to know is that this is Jake Ryan:

Aw, fine. I'll do the ending scene. All you need to know is that Samantha (Molly Ringwald) spent her whole 16th birthday getting ignored by her family and friends, the people she wanted attention from - but got tons of unwanted and frankly traumatizing attention from other people.

Until Jake Ryan (Michael Schoeffling), the guy she's had a huge crush on, shows up at her sister's wedding, and focuses all of his attention on her, giving her the 16th birthday of her dreams. Is the dialogue great? No. But the imagery is the stuff that imprints on your brain forever at an impressionable young age. And that's what counts? And that's what counts!

youtube

"It was a short walk to the dingy theater, where the midnight showing was of a movie called, The Room, which I’d thought was a movie starring Brie Larsen, but Max assured me - was not" -- This is a cult classic, terrible and hilarious, and incredibly quotable. Tommy Wiseau is an enigma wrapped in a cloak of secrecy - and this article by Vox does an amazing job of breaking down the 5 W's and how this became what it is today:

"Giving him a determined look, I declared, “Bring it on.” Giving me back an equal amount of sass, Max proclaimed, “Oh, it’s already been broughten.” --

C'mon Gabrielle Union circa 2000 - Icon!

She's so fantastic and this was one of the first "teen" movies that addressed white girls culturally appropriating - but also getting called out on it. (*Cough* Save the Last Dance *Cough*) Gabrielle spoke up about her experience on this movie, and what she wishes she would've done differently, and it is fantastic (watch the video included in the article - please!):

True story - this exists, it's magnificient, check it out!

"Max paused, thinking for a moment, “Say Anything - I thought I could be Lloyd Dobler,” --

Say Anything does have its own problems, just like all the other 80s movies, but there's definitely one iconic scene that everyone knows and loves...

youtube

“I could make you forget that you ever fell and hurt yourself but, I’m not going to risk the brain scramblies. I want you to know the truth.” --

How could I write a story about a vampire and not have some tie-in lore with What We Do in the Shadows?

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“Anyway… this extremely crusty looking, yet very stately, oddly attractive fella - sounded like he was from an older European country, and super weird, he was wearing a New Jersey Devil’s hat. Well, he interrupted our drinks with clients and turned me, out of nowhere." --

Oh my god. Did The Baron turn Max?? (Maybe it's not canon, but do you mind, really? I promise I'll make it worth it.)

youtube

“Oh!” I exclaimed, “How very Eyes Wide Shut of you!"

Final film of Stanley Kubrick, which at the time got kinda luke warm reviews.

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However, I came across this interpretation of the movie recently by Lila Shapiro for New York Magazine / Vulture, and it's a bit chilling to read of Kubrick's awareness. So - where will this relationship go? Is Max just another Dr. Bill Harford? Or is he more? Will OC succumb to the fate of Nicole Kidman's character? Or will we eschew established trends?

“Um, hello? I’d like to lodge a complaint - I’ve been having sex with humans when I could’ve been having sex with vampires this entire time. Super Massive Blackhole Fuck Up.” -- Not the first Twilight reference I've made, won't be the last, but let's go ahead and roll that spicy footage. Feel free to laugh as much as you want.

youtube

"And I’m really glad that we won’t be having a weird vampire-human baby hybrid à la Twilight.” --

Fucking Renesmé, c'mon. There is so much wrong with that whole storyline, and why did they have to CGI a BABY? Shield your eyes, I cruelly added a gif.

“Yes, and it always makes me think of that line from the movie Dodgeball, ‘Nobody makes me bleed my own blood - nobody!’ You know what I’m talking about - Ben Stiller says it?” --

If you or someone you know suspects that they have endometriosis or adenomyosis, check back here soon. I'll be doing a separate post including additional information and support. In the meantime, enjoy this scene from Dodgeball:

youtube

"Then I grinned and said in a British accent, “I’m getting betteh!” -- If they don't teach this in school, perhaps they should, eh?

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“Ohmygod, soooo nice.” I batted my eyelashes at him, while talking like a Valley Girl from the OG Buffy the Vampire Slayer." -- Okay, so we know that Pedro was in the Sarah Michelle Gellar version of Buffy, but before that there was the Kristy Swanson version, and Buffy was a teensy bit different. CW: Buffy gets told that she's not like other girls. Content Bonus: Buffy says, "Yes, I am." IN THE 90s.

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“Manners maketh man, so they say.” -- Crossover event! This is something Whiskey says in Kingsman. Do you take your Whiskey neat or on the rocks?

“Sweetness, I don’t have a kink for Stepford Wives..." -- Yeah, HOT PASS on Stepford Wife-ing, and if you're unfamiliar with the plot, it's basically a 1972 feminist horror story by author Ira Levin, who also wrote Rosemary's Baby and Sliver. This article by Meredith Craig de Pietro of Bustle regarding the feminism inherent in Levin's books, just as relevant today as when they were written, does discuss some of the more serious political issues surrounding bodily autonomy - but it is a short and interesting read:

Hey, how about a trailer of the 2004 version of Stepford Wives with Nicole Kidman, Bette Midler, Glenn Close, Faith Hill, Christopher Walken, and Matthew Broderick?

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But wait - there's more!

Due to Tumblr limitations, this batch of Easter Eggs has a little sidecar of 2 additional Easter Eggs waiting for you in, you guessed it - Easter Eggs v. 2.2: We're Beta Than This. Return to the Masterlist Here or, while you're waiting for Chapter 3, be sure to check out my one other fanfic about Javi G. from The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent, Paddington 3: Lost in Mallorca.

Return to Chapter 2

Continue to Chapter 3

#Pedro Pascal + Fangs #Max Phillips x afab!fem!reader #Bloodsucking Bastards FanFiction #Not Twilight #Fucking Renesmé #Endometriosis Awareness #Adenomyosis Awareness

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almostfoxglove · 2 months ago

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THE PRETTIEST

PART III: CONSIDERATION

🩸a ghost!max phillips series

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Max Phillips x f!Reader WORD COUNT: 8.6k 🩸CW: Descriptions of blood and minor injury. yearning of the highest order. a pouting, brooding man who is not that cute about it, but I guess we’ll forgive him just this once.

read from the beginning | series masterlist main masterlist | get notifs

SUMMARY: After a kitchen mishap, you and Max rendezvous for a late night conversation—a real one, this time.

CHAPTER PREVIEW:

Beneath the clatter of pill bottles and ker-thunk of your curling iron falling from its perch, the apartment is silent as a cemetery after midnight. Quiet enough he might hear the tiny sound of your ichor plinking softly on the kitchen floor if he were listening to you at all. A growl rips up his throat, bloody as a fist and just as frustrated. Where the hell did you squirrel them? He had a system, for fuck’s sake—and for this fucking reason, for emergencies! But when Max marches back into the kitchen, hellbent on reaming you out for messing with his immaculate organization, he skids to a stop. Cartoon dust clouds probably balloon from his heels. You, red hand cradled to your chest, stand awestruck on the other side of the kitchen island. Eyes wide, too-white, barely blinking. It gives him a terrible chill.

READ PART III ON AO3.

dividers by @saradika-graphics!

NOTE: I have officially moved away from tag lists as they've gotten lengthy (thank you for that <3) so please follow @foxglovenotifs and turn on notifications to get alerts for future updates!

#pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x you #max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips fic #almostfoxglove #bloodsucking bastards #fic: theprettiest #ao3 fanfic #myfics

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

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𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐓

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

genre: smut, office romance

word count: 5k

summary: a week after walking in on your boyfriend fucking someone else, Max gives you the day off. You leave, unaware that you dropped your watch. Much to your surprise, he brings it to you. Your relationship with him escalates in the following days.

warnings: office sex, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, use of 'sir' & 'good girl', piv, dom/sub dynamics, very mild degradation (he calls you his cocksleeve like once), dumbification if you squint, soft!max at times

a/n: I drafted this months ago and only now I finally finished the fic, I have no idea why I waited this long especially since I'd written most of it back then but other wips got in the way--sorry Max lmaodvdf this is my first time writing for you and I hope I did you justice 🖤 I rewatched his scenes and I'm still so horny for this man it's making me look stupid

Max’s office is the nicest one of everyone who works in this building, albeit a bit darker. There’s a succulent on his desk that reminds you of a translucent star and you can’t seem to draw your eyes away from it. His voice is smooth and melodic but you aren’t really listening. Your hand moves over to your watch, feeling the coolness of metal underneath your fingertips. It’s nice.

It’s safe to say that you’re not really paying attention to anything.

Your eyes are wet still, a sting every time you dare to blink. It’s been a week since you found your boyfriend screwing someone else on the couch in the living room. The image still lingers in your head, taunting you.

While you stared, unblinking as they scrambled for their clothes, all you could think of how happy you were that they didn’t use the bedroom.

Now that the relationship is over it’s easier to see the red flags. The way he belittled you, your passions, the things that you enjoyed. Your body, your cooking, anything you did was never enough for him. It was an open invitation to mock you for who you were. And that was the least of it, he never touched you, and you had to beg him for sex— not in the fun kind if you might add. You feel so fucking stupid for trying to make him happy.

“You’re not listening are you?”

You flinch upon hearing the question, eyes finally snapping away from the succulent and turning to Max. You didn’t mean to be so obvious about it. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. . . Great, another person you couldn’t make happy no matter what you did.

“You’ve been like this all week. Is there something going on? You can take leave if you need to, you’re not really much use like this anyway”

His words sting but you can’t really blame him for it. Though you did find it funny that as an immortal he was so pressed for time.

“Sorry,” you say and he looks at you, really looks at you. Brown eyes move from your eyes to your lips, his own tongue darting out to wet his own. “I’ll do better just some... personal stuff going on,”

“Family?”

“Shitty breakup.”

“Oh.”

Max appreciates bluntness. You figured that one out on your first day here. He isn’t a fan of keeping anything that might affect your work bottled up. He doesn't like the guessing game either. If there’s something wrong he wants to know and if he can he’ll fix it. Not that he can really fix a broken heart.

He suddenly stands up, making his way around the desk. He lends against the edge, hands on his lap. Instictecly you curl your fingers around the armrests. Max is pretty docile for the most part, unless he’s hungry. But the way he’s looking down at you, brows relaxed and a faint smile tugging at his lips, it makes your heart drop. He’s a walking corpse but his eyes are more alive compared to most people you’ve met.

“I’m sure you’ll be happier without commitment wearing you down,” he says, voice dropping, barely above a whisper. You shudder and fail to see the way his fingers twitch. “Don’t think about it, relax, sweetheart.”

And you do. It’s like warm water dancing over your skin. Your shoulders slump, your body limply sinking into the chair. A lazy smile spreads across your lips and he smiles back, teeth winking at you between his plush lips. “That’s it. You’re not feeling anything now, are you?”

You giggle, shaking your head. Even your heartbeat slows, the tips of your fingers tingling with pleasure—

You blink, pinching your brows, you slowly roll your shoulders and hear your bones crack. Max is gazing at you with utmost curiosity, thumbs drumming silently.

Then it hits you. The fucker is using his powers. Fucking vampires.

“Stop it,” you hiss, your body relaxed but mind racing. He rolls his eyes and waves his hand as a sign of dismissal. The tension that had disappeared from your muscles return at full force, and you jolt. “You shouldn’t do that,”

“I was trying to help,” he answers without a care in his tone. He buttons his vest and gestures with his head to the door. “Take the rest of the day off. Sort yourself. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“But—”

“Just go. It’s fine,” when you fail to look convinced, he pouts and draws a cross over his chest. Ironic. “I swear. Now go, take the day off, collect your thoughts or whatever you need to do,”

You leave without pointing out the irony of him making a cross over his non-beating heart. You’ve worked long enough to know that if the boss wants you to take the time off, you take the time off.

Max drags his palm over his face, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he hops off the desk and turns to look at the empty seat you left behind. He’s not sure if he should be condoning this kind of behavior. He doesn’t want people barging in here asking to leave with the most minuscule of problems. But it isn’t typical of you to be distracted so he decided that you earned it.

He’s curious about what kind of man would be stupid enough to leave you, let alone make you look that sad. Not that it’s any of his business.

Max is amidst turning on his heel when he sees it. A small sparkle on the carpeted floor. Cocking an eyebrow, he leans over with his hands in his pockets. A watch?

That’s right you had a watch when you came in, you were playing with it while he was going over the weekly sales. You must’ve dropped it. Looking almost bored, he scoops it off the floor and stares at it. He sees your initials written on the back, a pretty, delicate little accessory.

Surely you would miss it. He knows your address due to dragging your drunk self back home after an office party— so maybe he should bring it to you. Max sighs and flips the watch over. He has time to make a quick stop.

He leaves the office with the watch snug in his pocket. It really isn’t his style to be nice, or remorseful, but he does feel a tad guilty using his powers on you. He genuinely did think he was doing some good. It did look like you were feeling better until you broke out of the trance.

Max steps into the elevator. The tedious music loud and scratching his ears as always.

Taking a day off isn’t going as smoothly as you had hoped.

Initially, you thought you would binge your favorite shows and eat a bucket of ice cream. Instead, you ended up staring blankly at the ceiling, arm dangling out from the side of the bed. It’s a shitty feeling. Your heart feels heavy and uncomfortable. Maybe Max taking away the pain wasn’t so bad after all?

There’s a loud knock on the door and you jump. Every bone in your body aches, your heart beating fast as you head to the living room. You’re praying to every god you know that it’s not your ex. You don’t want to deal with him. Especially not today.

You take a deep, calming, breath. It’s okay. He wouldn’t just show up now, would he? Stupidly enough you don’t look through the peephole before yanking the door open, the person that lurks on the other side takes you by surprise completely.

It’s Max.

What the hell?

“Hiii,” he says with a smug grin. He lifts something to your line of vision and it takes you a moment to recognize your watch. “Found this, thought you might miss it.”

Blinking, you open your palms and he drops it. It feels like a dream. “Uh…thanks,”

“You’re welcome,” he peers over your shoulder, looking into the dimly lit apartment. “So how’s your day off going?”

“Not as fun as I hoped,” you give him a bittersweet smile. His eyes meet yours, and you see your reflection in them, so bright. “Do you want to come inside?”

A shudder climbs your spine when something dark crosses his face, eyes becoming sharper. Your stomach churns and you swallow, fingers tightening around the watch.

“Would love to” he chirps, practically jumping over the threshold. “Thank you for the invite, much obliged.”

“You really can’t come in without being invited?” you ask, closing the door with a push of your heel.

“Nope,” he answers, emphasizing on the p. “Why do you think I left you at the door after the party? You were too drunk to say ‘come in’ I basically had to push you through the door just so you could crawl the rest of the way to your bedroom,”

“I honestly thought you were just being an asshole,”

He scoffs, “I am an asshole. Just not to the people I like,”

He drops down to the couch, which in return makes your stomach sink. You really need to burn it, you don’t think you can have it in your apartment anymore. You sit across from him, placing the watch neatly on top of the coffee table. “I wasn’t aware you liked me,”

“Let’s say tolerate. I like your work ethic.”

“Thank you?” you answer, unsure.

“You’re very much welcome.”

You’re not sure why you invited him inside. He doesn’t drink coffee unless it’s morning, and he doesn’t really like to eat as far as you could tell. The silence is deafening and uncomfortable. You part your lips to ask if he would like tea or anything else but he beats you to it, gaze fixated on you.

“So, how did it happen?”

Your throat goes dry, “What?”

“The break-up,” he shrugs and leans back into the couch, you internally cringe. “Do you want me to break his neck or something?”

“What—No!” you’re horrified but can’t ignore the way warmth blossoms in your chest. You’re highly aware that he’s joking, however, it’s still a nice thought that someone actually cares enough to get pissed about it. “Where did that even come from?”

“I don’t know, I’m not sure I like seeing you so sad. It’s unnerving.”

“Sorry that my misfortune is bothering you,” you answer, crossing your arms. “He cheated on me, and I’m only now realizing how shitty he was.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah,”

“So I do need to break his neck then?”

You laugh.

You aren’t expecting it, but here you are rubbing tears from your eyes as you laugh with your whole body. There’s just something about the way he said it; as if it was the most normal thing to do. He seems to enjoy the way you laugh. Smiling wide and bright, watching you with fond eyes.

After minutes, your laughter starts to die down, softening into breathless giggles. You’re surprised to find that Max is still smiling at you, no smugness, no cockiness, just an earnest smile.

“Thank I really needed that,” you say, heat building at the base of your spine. “Sorry if I worried you. It’s been a bit rough lately.”

“We can’t all be perfect every second,” he grins, he flattens his palms over his thighs, moving them up and down. Your breath hitches, eyes involuntarily dropping to his crotch. You’re flustered all of a sudden. He tilts his head, tongue poking out of his cheek as he gives you an open-mouthed smirk. “See something you like, sweetheart?”

Your eyes snap to his face, cheeks burning, “Nope. Not—Not at all,”

He leans forward, placing his elbows on his thighs. There’s a table in between but you feel as if he’s a breath away. You swallow, goosebumps rousing over your skin.

“You know I can smell it right?” he purrs. “I can smell the arousal gathering between your legs. I can hear the way your heart is beating… That asshole had no idea how to fuck you properly did he?”

Your pussy bottoms out at his words. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction that he’s right, you don’t want him to know how badly you want him inside. For him to whisper praises into your ear as you squirm around his cock. You lick your lips. He’s not using his powers, you can tell. Yet you still want to blame it on the fact that he’s doing something to make you feel so hot and bothered. But it’s not him, just you.

You’re not sure when you started to have the hots for your boss, but clearly, there was something there. Lurking in the darkness of your mind.

“Look at you,” he coos, eyes raking over your body. “So sweet and afraid. Let me be the first one to say that he didn’t deserve you. Not in the slightest,”

“Max…” you warn.

“Yeah…?” he mimics your tone, smile somehow wider. “Would you want to get coffee before work tomorrow morning?”

The question catches you by surprise. You observe him for a brief moment, he seems dead serious—at least the amount of serious Max Phillips can be.

You nod.

Your first early morning coffee date with Max goes exactly how you expect it to go. You pay for both coffees as a thank you. He found it unnecessary but grumbled a thanks anyway. He talks a lot about work; about sales, about his time in Romania. But mostly work. You do appreciate the distraction though so you don’t complain. You pitch in, telling him ways the company could improve but also adding that you want to quit one day and do something better with your life.

The following mornings follow the same pattern. Mostly conversations about work, and sipping coffee. That is until Tuesday rolls around. It’s an especially cold morning and you find yourself huddling closer to him as the two of you sat on the bench. He doesn’t really seem bothered by the cold, which makes sense since he’s cold-blooded.

Max’s eyes drop to your trembling fingers that were curled helplessly around the coffee cup. You notice his frown, his gaze lifts back up to meet your eyes. “Do you want to go inside?”

“No, I’m good. Besides it’s too early to start working.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “We do get here early don’t we.”

“I mean…we don’t have to. But I have been enjoying our mornings.”

“So have I,” he chews on his bottom lip, instinctively moving closer to you when he feels a shudder crawling up your spine. “It sucks that I can’t really warm you up—being undead and all— This would be the perfect moment to hold your hands.”

Funnily enough, he does manage to warm you up. You look down at your hands, the cup only half full, you place it to the side. Max truly had been a balm to your broken heart these past couple of days. He never got overly flirtatious again as he did in your apartment, some part of you is disappointed that he didn’t.

“You can—” you lick your lips, the wetness furthering the chill. “You can still do that. If you want to.”

“Yeah?” he moves his jaw, eyes dropping to your lips. “You’ll be colder.”

“I think it might be worth the risk.”

Max brings your hands to his lips, brushing your knuckles and kissing each finger individually. You shudder. He wasn’t wrong, he was awfully cold. But you weren’t wrong either, it’s worth it. Hundred percent. His mouth moves over the back of your hand in the shape of waves, the pit in your stomach rolling, and butterflies fluttering in your chest. His eyes meet yours and you’re mesmerized by him. His eyebrows raise, lips kissing the curve of your wrist, laying a path to the inside, he drags his teeth over the skin right above the vein.

A sudden fear spikes from your feet to your neck. He wouldn’t, would he?

“Are you afraid of me?” the question is whispered with a breath into your skin. Everywhere except the tip of your nose is warm. He looks at you with heavy eyelids, lashes kissing his cheeks every time he blinks.

You don’t have an answer, but you know what he needs to hear.

“I’m not.”

Before you can blink his lips mold into yours. He traces the seam of your mouth with his tongue eagerly, and you part your lips, allowing him to taste and dominate. With both hands he holds your wrists firmly, pulling you close until you’re basically flush against him. Max inhales as he presses deeper, licking the inside of your mouth and swallowing your whines.

He breaks away from you with a smile, you see the flash of fangs.

You gently knock on the already open door. Max is positively exhausted. His eyes snap from his computer to you, he sighs and signals you to enter with two fingers. You close the door when you enter.

“Are we still good for dinner?” you ask, feeling slightly foolish now that you were standing in the middle of his office.

“Sorry baby, not today. These assholes managed to mix everything up, need to fix all that so I’m going to be here late,”

You try very hard not to look disappointed. You already know you failed when you feel your bottom lip starting to quiver. You ball your hands into weak fists, pushing your nails into your skin. He notices, a moment of worry crosses his face.

Tonight wasn’t really a date, or anything important. It was just dinner.

Then why are you so upset?

You neither move away nor lean in as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs, and you exhale at the way you can feel his chest move underneath you.

“Nothing, just—Don’t worry about it. I’m just being clingy. I know you’re busy,”

“Clingy? Oh, sweetheart,” he rolls his chair back and slaps his thigh. “Come, sit on my lap.”

“Uh…” your eyes flit between his spread legs and his face. “Excuse me?”

“Just get your gorgeous self over here.”

Swallowing, your legs move on their own. Your heart does somersaults in your chest. His smile never falters as you slowly lower yourself down, feeling his frame under you. Your insides clench. Your arms shake. You feel his breath on your neck when he guides your arms around his neck. He presses his lips where your neck and chest meet, heat coils in your stomach.

“Max…”

“You could never be too clingy,” he murmurs. “And even if you were I would love it. I’m actually really happy you came over, I was starting to think this thing between us was going nowhere.”

“You want it…to go somewhere?”

“Of course, I fucking do,” he snaps, looking up, glaring at you. “Do you think I come here that early just to drink coffee—I like spending time with you.”

You feel yourself start to tremble as his hands move up your thighs and cup your ass. He squeezes gently and you gasp, your skin prickling under his touch. His lips move away from your neck, pressing soft kisses up your jaw until he reaches your ear.

"I want to take this further," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to fuck you, sweetheart. Bend you over this table and make you scream my name because I’m sure haven’t been screaming anything for a while."

His hands move around your body, tracing the line of your spine and the curves of your hips. His touch is gentle and yet rough at the same time, your heart beats faster with each passing second. You melt into him, wanting more, wanting him.

“I want to feel your wet cunt around my cock,” he groans, dragging his teeth down the column of your neck. His voice drops an octave. “Let me fuck you sweet thing.”

You pause for a moment, and then you nod, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Yes," you whisper. "Yes, I want this too."

Max smiles, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you in for a long, deep kiss. He nips at your bottom lip before pulling it and slipping his tongue into your mouth. Pulling you closer—inhaling you—he cups your head from both sides, and groans into your mouth. You feel the growing wetness between your legs, your body having a mind of its own, you grind down on him, shuddering as you feel the hard length under his pants.

“Needy,” he tuts, gripping you by the neck. You hiss when he yanks you back, the rest of your body falling still. “You’ll take what I give you. Is that clear?”

“Yes—” you bite the inside of your cheek. “Yes, sir.”

Your cheeks burn as his eyes widen momentarily. Then he closes them, taking a steady breath, he cocks his head to the side. A soft hum echoes in his throat.

“I like that,” he purrs, opening his eyes. “Say that again.”

“Please, sir.” you choke out.

Max's grip tightens as he bends you over the office table. You gasp, your skin hot as he shoves your pants down to your knees. While you kick them off, you hear a zipper, feel the weight of his cock on the top of your ass. Your face is directly staring at the door— If someone were to waltz in, the first sight to greet them would see you taking your boss’s cock. However, you can hardly care when his warm breath fans your neck, his breathing uneven and rushed.

He slips his hands down and cups your ass, kneading and squeezing as he shoves you further against the cold desk.

"You look so sexy like this," he growls, his cock pushing against your ass as he presses himself against you. His hands move up your body, and he starts tugging at the buttons of your shirt, loosening them one by one. His lips brush against your ear and you shiver in anticipation as his hot breath tickles your skin.

"Say. It."

It’s a threat and some wicked part of you is tempted to exhaust his patience. His hands move down your body, and his fingers start to tease your nipples as he traces circles around them. Then, when you don’t answer, he pinches them harshly.

Your body jerks at the sharp pain, an acute moan rips from your throat.

“Fuck me, sir. Please.”

“You sound so good like this, begging for my cock,” he purrs. “I’m going to go easy on you today sweetheart, but don’t expect me to always be so nice.”

He slides his hands lower, and his fingers slip between your legs, teasing and caressing your wetness. Your eyes roll back as his fingers start to penetrate you, and you grind downs in search of more. Wanting him deeper, wanting more of him.

“So fucking wet,” he coos, he pulls out his fingers, smearing wet streaks across your hips. He nudges his cock between your folds and rocks his hips, the catches against your clit and a loud moan rips from your throat. “That’s my girl, and you thought I didn’t want this. What kind of idiot wouldn’t want this pretty cunt? Hmm?”

“Max, please. . .”

You hear the growl that rattles his chest. Closing his eyes, he cocks his head to the side, tongue tracing the edges of his fangs. “I really love hearing you beg,” he groans. “And the blood rush in your veins.”

Your breath catches in your throat—and in one smooth thrust, he slips inside of you. You clutch the edges of the desk, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Suddenly the rest of the world blurs and it’s just you and him. He stretches you perfectly, his length deep enough to hit all the right spots. His hands smooth a path up your spine. You practically purr at the feeling. You whimper, and when you do, his lips are on your neck in an instant. His body a cool, yet comfortable, blanket on top of you.

“Good girl. Look at you, being so obedient,” he licks the salt off your skin. “You feel so good, baby. The perfect cocksleeve for the boss.”

“Oh god—” you choke out. You have no idea how to respond to that, but your body sure does. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him tight. His breath hitches. You feel him straighten behind you, his hands press you down from the waist and you can’t help the small squeal that parts your lips.

He’s restraining himself. You can tell by the way his hips twitches, eager to bury more of himself into you. His nails bite into your skin and instinctively you raise your hips. “Maaax,” you moan. “Fuck me, please. I can take it.”

“You can, can’t you?” he mutters, sounding almost impressed. “My perfect girl. You’ll take everything I’ll give you?”

You breathe out, “Yes—”

And he gives you everything.

Every thrust knocks the air from your lungs. Somewhere on the desk your arm hits a stack of papers and they fly everywhere, making a mess on the floor. Max doesn’t stop. He jackhammers into you, splitting you into two. It never felt this intense before. Never. You struggle to breathe and with every snap of his hips, you feel slick dripping down your thighs. Max groans as he wraps his fingers around your neck, pulling you up. Your breasts sway with every stroke, your nipples aching from how hard they are. His one hand remains on your throat as the other moves to your chest, kneading the soft mound in his palm.

“Wouldn’t be fun if someone walked in right now?” he teases, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Seeing you getting absolutely railed—kinda wish I had a mirror so I could see how cock drunk you look, sweetheart.”

Fuck, is all you can think and you desperately want to voice it out, tell him how good it feels. His voice, his breath, his teeth, his cock— But all you can do is whimper helplessly, hoping that the sound is enough to convey how much you’re enjoying this.

“So stupid for me, I love it. You want me to make you come?”

Another whimper. You nod helplessly, forcing yourself back to meet the movement of his hips. He hums as his hand slides between your legs, he draws wet circles around your clit, and your entire body clenches. You can barely hear him from the blood rush in your ears but you think he mumbles ‘oh shit’. Max continues to play with the sensitive bundle of nerves, with fast strokes he mumbles profanities against your skin.

You come with his name on your lips. Your body convulses, muscles clenching and unclenching over and over as you gush all around his cock. It feels never-ending. He grinds his hips, burying himself deeper, throbbing inside. You hiss as your second orgasm washes over you, fluttering and twitching, your body goes limp. You're fairly certain if Max wasn’t holding you up, you’d collapse.

Much to your surprise, Max slowly lays you on top of the desk and the office ceiling comes into view. He’s still pulsing between your legs. He smiles down at you, slides his fingers between your lips—the same fingers he made you come with—and leans in to shove his tongue alongside them. You part your lips wide, the taste of yourself and him making your head spin. You moan around his tongue and fingers. He pulls back with a smile.

“Where do you want me, sweetheart?” he asks, cupping your face with the same hand.

“You can come inside,” you answer in a daze, then quickly add. “You can’t get me pregnant right?”

He shakes his head and you smile, “Go ahead then.”

It doesn’t take him long. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and takes deep inhales of your scent as he spills inside of you. You thread your fingers through his soft locks and gently tug on them. He groans.

“That’s nice,” he hums, pressing his lips over your clavicle. “I wanna spend an eternity between your legs.”

“Should I be scared that you actually can do that?” you say with a soft chuckle, he looks down at you, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. He wiggles his brows.

“Maybe.”

Max slowly pulls out, and when he stands, he watches the mess pour between your legs. His pupils eat away the color of his eyes and you shudder at how hungry he looks.

Suddenly shy, you avert your gaze as you try to collect yourself, “Sorry about messing up your schedule. I’ll see you later.”

“And where do you think you’re going?”

He grabs your wrists and pulls you into an embrace. You hadn’t realized how tense you were until you feel yourself melting into him.

“Fuck work,” he says, his hand resting over the small of your back. “I’ll get it done later. Let’s go home so I can at least spend tonight between your legs.”

You grin into his chest, happy that he can’t see how ecstatic you look. He probably knows how excited you are anyway.

“Sounds like a plan.”

#max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x fem!reader #bloodsucking bastards #bloodsucking bastards fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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sageispunk · 2 years ago

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Control (18+)

gif from pinterest (@javier-pena i think)

Kinktober Prompt: sex pollen, thigh riding, forced orgasm (day 4)

pairing: Max Phillips x f!reader

summary: Drinking with your boss goes differently than you'd planned.

“Mm baby, I bet I could get one more out of you, what d’ya think? Can you cum one more time for me, like a good girl?” You looked into his eyes, seeing his hunger for you, it was carnal, lecherous.

wordcount: 2.3k+

warnings: no Y/N, this is sort of dark, DUBCON, max has a thing for reader, boss/employee dynamics, drugging (w/blood), intoxication, dom/sub vibes, teasing, nipple play, grinding/dry humping, voice kink, praise kink, magic kinda, making out, overstimulation, small visual hallucinations, multiple orgasms (2), use of “good girl”, dirty talk

A/N: max is a little OOC also my vampire science is slightly based on true blood–if a human ingests vamp blood (so not sex pollen exactly), they sort of trip on it BUT there are less extreme visual hallucinations + it just makes you feel rllyyyy good and very h-word. he can also influence you if you make eye contact for a few seconds (which is just glamouring in TB lol)

“How’s it taste?”

Max watched as you took a couple sips of his fancy red wine (whose name you couldn't pronounce), eyes a bit widened in excitement. You let the taste linger in your mouth for a moment, before replying. “Not bad, it's a little strong, but smooth. Reds usually don't do it for me, but this, it's pretty good.”

He smiled at your candidness, subtly scooting a bit closer. The two of you sat on high stools in his kitchen, talking at the marble island. Max had invited you over early in the day, during your lunch break, stating that even though you'd been working there for a few months, he barely knew anything about you. Said it would be good to get to know each other, it would help ease you into the work culture.

“I’m glad you like it.. it's been fermenting awhile, probably longer than you’ve been alive!” He says, with a slightly obnoxious laugh, watching you giggle in response.

The both of you chat about random stuff, mostly about you– how long you’ve been in the city, where you came from, etc. Every time you want to ask him about himself, he sort of beats you to it, pulling bits and pieces of information out of you.

A few moments later, you start to feel woozy, more in your head and upper body. “Woah, that stuff was strong.” You’re giggling, reaching for the bottle that stood on the counter between you and Max, wanting to read it again.

“You feelin’ it?” He asks, eyes steadily trained on your face, his body turning to better face yours. A chuckle leaves your throat, “Yeah, it's…” You just shake your head and sit the bottle back down, at a loss for words to describe how your body was beginning to feel.

It was good, a sort of light feeling, as if every particle of your being was being lifted up by tiny little angels, washing away that heavy burden of being a person. No more stress, no more doubts, no more responsibilities, no more ego.

There was also a physical tingling slowly radiating from your spine to every other part of your body, your head, your tummy, your toes, fingertips..

You brought your hand up, eyes wide in amazement at the faint glowing you could see emanating from your nails. You eyes briefly left your hands, going up to meet Max’s, your mouth hung open as if to say do you see this? but nothing came out. He watched you, with a sort of amused, content look on his face, lips slightly upturned.

Your arm slowly reached out, hand stretching towards him, wanting him to see and feel what you were experiencing. When you touched, it felt like electricity– “Oh!” You gasped.

But the sharp feeling quickly turned into a soothing, warm sensation as Max fully took your hand in between both of his. He gently rubbed your hand, while you sat in complete awe. You met his eyes again, and this time you could see the darkness in them.

His orbs were almost black, gaze trained on you with such intensity that sober-you would've simply imploded. But right now– they were comforting, nearly tranquilizing.

“How are you feeling? Good?” His voice was deeper, more…sensual–it hit your ear in a different way than before. You wanted to hear more.

Nodding your head, you leaned your body in a bit more towards his, reaching your other hand up to his face. You were only slightly surprised to feel that jolt again, that static that seemed to sit on his skin. You stroked his cheek softly, soothing that electricity just like he did with you.

“Mmm..” Max groaned and his eyes fluttered shut, head tilting back slightly as your fingers graced his jaw. You watched as he reveled in your touch, leaning into your hand. Your fingers traveled along the outline of his face, going down until they were loosely grasping the side of his throat with your thumb stroking his cheek again.

Max’s eyes opened again, looking as though he was shocked that you could get him like this. “Come,” And then he was pulling you by your arms, so quickly that it didn’t feel real. For a split second, you stood there, in between his legs, with your faces only an inch apart, so close that there was equal static flowing between you two.

And then you were falling.

You’d been sitting for so long, you didn’t realize how numb your legs were. “Woah there, mama, let's get you up.” Max cooed, standing up to catch you and help get you upright. You weakly held onto him, less focused on your legs and more focused on how close you were to him, the woody scent of sage and cedarwood in his clothes, and the way he was holding onto your body, his own tall figure serving as a protector for you. “C’mon, baby, I’ve got ya.”

The lights were low, the constant whirring of the ceiling fan lulled you in the background, and you were in heaven. Max had led you into his living room, sitting the both of you down on the soft sofa with you atop his lap. He firmly grasped your chin with his right hand, bringing your eyes back up to his. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

His voice had a tone of dominance in it, and his eyes had you falling into that peaceful trance again, unable to focus on anything other than him and the wonderful sensations happening within your body. “Feelin’ good,” You meekly whispered, voice a bit hoarse from not having spoken in a minute.

“Mhm?” He looked pleased with your answer, leaning back into the sofa as you remained straddling his lap. His hand dropped from your face, both coming to rest on your hips. His eyes wandered, first to your lips, then your neck, down to the curves outlined in your short black slip dress, especially your breasts.

Max lifted his hands up to each of your breasts, gently holding each of them in his palms while you looked down at him, nothing but calm in your eyes. Then his thumbs lightly flickered across your nipples, drawing a gasp out of you. His eyes lit up at both the sound you made, and the way you jumped in his lap, subtly grinding into his hardening cock.

“Do you always wear such revealing clothing when at your boss’ house?

Your eyes widened at the question, head shaking in response, feeling yourself become needier the longer his hands were on you.

“Hm?” He stopped thumbing at your nipples, eyebrows raised with a stern look on his face.

You got the hint. “No, no I don’t..”

“It's just for me?” The touching resumed, now turning into soft groping.

You nodded your head, “Only for you.”

He squeezed and massaged your breasts, causing you to let out breathy moans above him. A cocky smile graced his face as he began to pleasure you. Max was now fully hard and slightly grinding his bulge up into your soaked panties, hissing at the feeling of your warmth, even through his pants.

“Fuck, baby…you’re so good, y’know that?”

A pang of electricity shot through your stomach, making you feel even weaker. His hands, his eyes, his cock hard under you, and his fucking voice… everything had you so far under.

“Jus’ wanna be good for you,” Your voice was so soft and hushed, but you knew he’d heard you. “Yeah?” He asked, and you nodded in response, your eyes low and focused on his.

He sat up to come in closer to you, his firm hands coming up to your face, pulling you in until you were an inch apart. You stared into his eyes, the depth of darkness pulling you in, enticing you. All you wanted was him. To become one with him.

You kissed him, a bit too fast, with a sort of hunger, and then you quickly pulled back and leaned your forehead onto his. He panted, a feral, frenzied look written all across his face, letting you know that he needed this as much as you did.

Your faces pulled back together and his hands shot down to your ass, pulling the bottom of your dress up above your hips. Feeling that you only had a thong on underneath, Max hissed in pleasure. His hands grasped each of your cheeks, squeezing and groping, more obviously grinding his bulge up into your heat. “Y’feel that baby? Feel how much I want you? How much I need you?”

“Yes,” You let out a breathy moan, your head swimming in clouds. “It feels so good.”

“Show me. Show me how good you feel.”

Your hips began to move, rocking back and forth on his lap, your clothed clit rubbing against the hem in his jeans. Every time it hit that one spot you let out a moan, each one getting louder than the one before.

His right hand came down on your ass hard and fast, feeling like a lightning bolt shooting through your backside. You yelped, now humping a bit more frantic. You could tell you were nearing your peak already, though it felt much different than when you normally do, alone and in the darkness of your bedroom.

It was more intense. Your body trembled and your eyes kept fluttering shut as the waves of pleasure amplified. “M-Max, I-”

“I know, baby, let it out,” His voice grunted out, hands tightly guiding you back and forth on his lap, getting you closer and closer, until all you could feel was static electricity, all over your skin, on Max, inside of you…

He brought a hand back up to your jaw, holding your face up to meet your gaze. “Cum for me.” His eyes pierced yours and you felt yourself let go, hips stilling for a moment then twitching uncontrollably. You cried out as your eyes rolled back into your head, immediately feeling overstimulated all over your body.

“Good girl,” He cooed in your ear, his body stilling under yours. “You did so good, baby.” Your body continued to twitch slightly, still coming down from the most intense high you’ve ever felt. “So beautiful, all soft and sweet like this. I’d pay–no I’d kill to see you break down like that again.”

You whimpered at his words, his voice still having a strong effect on you and your body. “Mm baby, I bet I could get one more out of you, what d’ya think? Can you cum one more time for me, like a good girl?” You looked into his eyes, seeing his hunger for you, it was carnal, lecherous.

You wanted to say not yet, you needed time to recover, to fully come down. But his eyes, they bore into you, taking over every thought of denial your mind came up with. Ignoring your oversensitive clit and tired hips, your fuzzy head nodded.

Max patted his right thigh, “Up here,” You straddled his thigh and a shiver shook through your body at the feeling of the strong mass under your panties. “Look at me. I want you to keep your eyes on me, okay?”

You nodded, once again. He grasped your hip with both hands and began to pull you back and forth on his thigh. He kept it slow at first, only beginning to slowly speed up once he noticed your sensitivity wasn't as high anymore. “Touch yourself,” He ordered.

Your hands moved immediately, both gravitating towards your breasts again, this time you slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders. You gasped at the feeling of your own fingers pulling at your hardened nipples. You twisted and pulled until they were too sensitive to the touch, and resorted to simply groping your own tits.

“So fuckin’ beautiful…” His praise hit your ears and sent shocks down your body, right to your slick pussy. You were dripping, thong completely soaked and ruined, as were Max’s pants. Your hips found their rhythm again, wanting to chase that peak he had you nearing again.

Back and forth, and back and forth. You even added in a small circling to create a different feeling than before. The closer you got, the more your sensitivity intensified. It was twice as strong as your previous high, and you didn’t know it you would be able to take it. Max could tell, he could see the way you were beginning to doubt yourself, a nervous look written on your face. “Don’t think about it baby, just let it happen. You’ve got it, doing so fuckin’ good.”

“Max, I don’t know–” Your gaze began to fall from his, but he grabbed your face, not as gently as before. “No, you’re gonna cum for me. Right now, you’re gonna cum like the good girl that you are, and you’re gonna fuckin’ love it.”

“Ohhh, my…” Your voice trailed off into a high-pitched wail, your second orgasm hitting you, causing your body to completely lock up for a few quick moments. You watched Max’s face as you came, he had a proud look on his face, and you felt it within yourself as well.

You slumped in his lap, unable to hold yourself up at all. He rubbed your back and tucked your face into his neck. “You did so well for me baby, m’proud of you.” Strong butterflies pounded in your chest, his praiseful words aiding your harsh come-down.

The longer you laid there, the more you realized how exhausted you were. Your head felt heavy again, eyes low, nearly closed with drowsiness. Your body was tired and sore, in several different places. You didn’t focus on the pain though. Max’s hands on your back and head, rubbing in rhythmic circles, had you falling deep into a peaceful slumber.

A/N: that was so hot to write omg. it took longer than expected but i'm still proud i got it out:) max was a little difficult bc i don't know his character super well (i've only seen the film once) but it was still fun playing around with it. please like and reblog (and leave plenty of comments) if u enjoy reading this. feel free to send requests/suggestions!! <333 (follow @sageispunklibrary + turn on notifs for updates)

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

#kinktober #fawktober2023 #max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips smut #bloodsucking bastards #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #smut #dark fic #supernatural #my writing #max phillips x you #max phillips fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #max phillips fic #max phillips x f!reader #sageispunk

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coulsons-fullmetal-cellist · 3 months ago

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So...I've been working on something new...

@chaithetics @cevans-is-classic @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @kirsteng42

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #pedro pascal characters

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absurdthirst · 2 years ago

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Immortally Human {Max Phillips x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: Vampirism, suggestive banter, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, mentions of child planning, hypnotizing, sacrifice, witch's protective spells, violence, throat ripping, staking, gore

Comments: When Max falls in love you, a human, he must get permission from his sire to tell you about his true nature. When he tells you, he must turn you or kill you and you don't want to be a vampire. Leaving Max to protect you at the cost of his own immortality.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Max Phillips Masterlist ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Babe! Are you ready?” Max calls over his shoulder from his spot on your sofa. He knows you are running behind, but the reservations are hard to reschedule and he pulled a few favors to make sure he got a table tonight. He has a very important question to ask you. “I’m coming, almost done!” You yell back breathlessly, making him grin as he checks his watch. If you had told him six months ago that Max Phillips would be in a committed, monogamous relationship, he would have called you an idiot. Laughed in your face right before he went about doing whatever he wanted. But that was before he had invited you out for a drink and fallen head over heels. Most who know him would call him egotistical. A frat-boy douche has been thrown his way several times when he’s smoozed his way into a promotion or stolen an important client. Business was what mattered and he was good at it. Leaving his private life a series of hook ups and perpetual bachelorhood until you had flipped his world upside down.

Max was faithful. He was trying to be kind and thoughtful. Loving. Bringing you lunch or taking you out to dinner. Even sitting through movies he had zero interest in. Not because he was looking forward to getting laid after - although the sex is mindblowing - but because it makes you happy. Even though you don’t live together, he’s positively domesticated and is ready to take the next step with you.

When you come out into the living room, Max whistles. “Daaaaaaamn baby. Look at you. Looking fucking delicious.” He stands up and reaches for you, pulling you up against him to inhale your scent. He hears your blood pulsing beneath your skin and his mouth waters but he pushes that aside. Your relationship is perfect…except for one thing: you don’t know he’s a vampire. He hasn’t had the guts to tell you. Scared that you’ll reject him or be terrified of him and he only wants to see love in your eyes, not fear. He will tell you. He has to tell you. Max murmurs your name and you slap his chest playfully when he asks if you have to go to dinner.

“Yes. It took forever getting ready and we need to eat. You can devour me later.” You say and Max waggles his eyebrows, “is that a promise?” You snort and slap his chest again but he catches your hand, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “Come on baby, let’s go eat.” He says and lets go of you so you can get your purse.

Hustling you out to his car, Max races around it and slides behind the wheel. “Hang on, baby.” He tells you with a smirk. “Gotta rush to get there.” He prefers to drive fast, in complete control of his reflexes, but you always seem to worry when he’s zooming through the streets. “We don’t want to miss our reservation.”

You grip the handle on the door and squeeze as Max rounds a corner too fast. “We aren’t indestructible. I don’t care if we are late, I just want us to make it.” You wince as the tires squeal as he accelerates and Max snorts, wanting to tell you he’s indestructible apart from wooden stakes to the heart.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’ll be fine.” He promises and reaches for your hand that isn’t gripping the handle.

You snort in disbelief beside him and Max takes his foot off the gas for a split second, allowing the speed to go down by a few miles per hour. He still can’t tell you why he’s so confident, but soon he will. “I know you’ve been looking at the menu. Tell me what you want to order, baby.” He knows talking will keep your mind off his driving.

You snort again, amused that he knows you look up the menu beforehand and already know what you will order. You squeeze his hand, "I was thinking about getting the duck. It's not something you see on a lot of menus. I want something different. Then they have this Death by Chocolate cake that is to die for, according to the reviews." You say, and Max smirks slightly at your choice of dessert.

“Then that’s what my girl will have.” He hums as he turns a corner sharply and wheels protest again. He’s only a mile from the restaurant and the reservation is in five minutes. It means he will pull up to the valet in time to escort you inside and be seated. “And we have to have a bottle of good wine to go with it.”

“I’m gonna need a drink after your driving, Phillips.” You chuckle breathlessly as he screeches to a stop at the valet booth. “Thank God we made it in one piece.” You exhale shakily as the valet opens the door for you. Max is there in a blink of an eye to take your hand and you are always so amazed at how quickly he moves and you take his hand to let him guide you into the restaurant.

Max winks at the valet and slips him a fifty. “Take care of it.” He asks as he guides towards the door. “Was there any doubt that I would take care of you, baby?” He sends you a pout and a grin that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him when combined. Leaping forward so he can open the door for you to enter the building and biting his lip as your ass shakes in front of him. At the host stand, he gives his name. “Phillips, party of two for seven o’clock.”

His commanding presence has always turned you on and to see him like this has you eager for him already. You are escorted to your table where Max holds the chair out for you and you sit down. “This place is gorgeous. You didn’t have to spurge like this, baby.” You say with a slight tut, knowing Max likes to spoil you but you never ask for it.

“Of course I did.” He winks at you and sends you a small air kiss. It might look smarmy to some, but he adores you. “Tonight is special. And there’s nothing like spoiling my girl.”

You wonder if you've forgotten an anniversary or something but you've been with Max for just over a year now and every day he seems to spoil you despite your requests that he saves money - you are happy to sit down at home with take out and watch a movie. You reach for his hand after he sits down, "you're too good to me. I'll have to make it up to you." You smirk, stretching your leg to nudge his ankle.

“Hmmmm, I know you will.” His own smirk is knowing, loving how uninhibited you are and how you just want him. Not anything else. You are addicted to him and he doesn’t have to do anything more than what he does now. The waiter comes up and Max looks over at you. “What kind of wine do you want, baby?”

“Mmm I think red.” You say, having decided on the duck before even sitting at the table. Max takes the wine list and scans it, selecting a Cabernet and you squeeze his hand. “Excellent choice sir.” The waitress says and says he will be back to take your order. “What are you going to order?” You ask him, “do you want to get an appetizer? I think I just want to have the entree.”

“No, no appetizer.” Max decides, sending you a suggestive smirk. “I want to save room for dessert.” Waggling his brows suggestively, he knows he will have your thighs spread wide and his tongue buried in your cunt tonight. “I’m going to just have a steak, rare.” He decides, barely even looking at the menu, too busy staring at your beautiful face.

You fluster at the way he stares at you. Still unnerved by the way he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world for him. “That’s what you always get. And you never eat it. I swear…you always make me take it home for lunch.” You shake your head, concerned about him paying for a steak and never eating it. Before Max can explain, the waiter comes back with the bottle of red and opens it, allowing Max to taste before pouring your glass. He takes your orders and leaves you and Max to enjoy your drink.

“To us.” Max offers, holding up his glass as a toast. “To our future together and tonight is the beginning of happily ever after.” He offers, giving you a sincere smile as he waits for you to react to that.

Your heart flutters at his words and you clink your glass against his. "To us." You practically sigh with contentment. Part of you wonders if Max is going to propose tonight and that makes your stomach twist with happy anticipation.

Taking a small sip of the wine, he makes a noise of appreciation and sets it down. Much preferring to watch you until he can capture your hand again. “I love you, baby.” He starts softly. “I’ve never felt this way, about anyone, but you - you’ve completely changed me. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

"Max." You gasp softly at his speech. He's a very physical lover, cocky with his words but never emotional. This is rare for him to say and you are shocked but happy. He loves you and you are so in love with him, all of him. You look down at your joined hands, "Max. I- I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine."

“I want to ask you something serious.” His brow furrows slightly and he squeezes your hand. “I want you to go away with me, meet my family.” He’s never mentioned you meeting anyone in his family and while it’s not exactly a proposal, this is serious for him. “Would you come with me to Romania?”

You’re surprised again. A little disappointed if you’re honest. You thought he was gonna propose. You soon gather yourself, replacing your slight frown with a smile as you tilt your head. “Your family? I- I thought you said your parents are dead.” You frown again and Max nods, “yes, but I have an uncle. I want you to meet him. See where I’m from.” You bite your lip and think for a second, seeing the desire in his eyes and how can you resist? You nod, squeezing his hand. “Of course I will. I’d love to meet your uncle and see your homeland.”

He can tell that you are disappointed that he didn’t pull out a ring and propose to you. Knowing that you are unaware that he has to get permission from his uncle - his sire - to marry you, and to tell you that he’s a vampire. “I love you baby. I promise that you won’t regret it.” He leans in and presses his lips to yours. “He’s going to love you.”

****

It’s cold when you land in Romania and you are escorted to the black car waiting for you outside of the airport. “How the hell did you deal with the cold when you live in L.A?” You ask Max when the car is moving along to your hotel. You’re nervous to meet Max’s uncle. You haven’t heard much about him other than Max wouldn’t be who he is today without his uncle.

“Jackets.” He jokes with a grin, although he really isn’t affected by the cold like you are. It’s one of the perks of being a vampire. “You need me to keep you warm, baby?” He asks, scooting closer to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “I can warm you up just as soon as we get to the hotel if you want.”

You giggle, turning your head to kiss his jaw. “I wouldn’t mind that. After all, this is our first vacation together. We might as well make the most of it.” You smirk and nudge your nose against his jaw. You and Max don’t live together. It’s been over a year of dating but you’ve never pushed it, knowing he might just want to do things traditionally and get engaged first. “When are we meeting your uncle?”

“Tomorrow.” Max knew that jet lag would affect you, so he had told Serge that he would bring you by tomorrow afternoon. He didn’t want you to be tired or less than your best when you meet the man who had turned him into a vampire when he was here in college. “That way you can get a good night’s sleep.”

You snort, “a good night’s sleep with you around? I doubt it, Phillips.” You nudge him and he squeezes your arm, “I want you to like each other so maybe best if you don’t look like you got your brains fucked out all night long, huh sweet cheeks?” He hums and you smirk, “you say that now but wait until you see what I brought with me to sleep in:”

Max groans, rolling his eyes at the thought of you in lingerie. You love wearing things that make him feral to touch you, although he’s never shown you how feral he could be. Carefully keeping that side of him contained, so he doesn’t hurt or scare you. “So you want me to fuck you all night, got it.” He smirks. “Besides, it’s gonna be on the floor in shreds within minutes of you showing me.”

“That’s why I brought more than one.” You smirk and kiss his jaw, making him growl softly under his breath.

****

“Max. This isn’t a hotel, it’s a goddamn castle.” You gasp as you enter the impressive abode, the drapery and stone imposing but warm as you step into the foyer followed by Max.

“Did I forget to mention that?” Max squints as he looks at you questioningly. Of course he wasn’t going to admit that it was a castle, he wanted to see your face as you experienced it for the first time and you didn’t disappoint him. “Sorry if it’s not romantic enough.” He pouts.

"Are you kidding me?" You chuckle humorlessly, walking over to him to wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down to press your lips against his. Your fingers running through his hair. "I love you Max. This is - it's incredible. Where on earth did you find this place?"

“It’s actually…” Max sends you an apologetic look, “not a hotel. This is my uncle’s house.” He explains. “But don’t worry.” He assures you. “I told the housekeeper we were going to keep to our room tonight. They will send up dinner and we can just crash…or…whatever.” He hums, waggling his brows again.

You are a little taken back that this is his uncle's place but you don't argue it, knowing that this place is incredible and Max likely didn't want to make you more nervous. "Uh, sure. That works babe." You nod, sliding your hands down his back. "Of course there's a housekeeper." You giggle, looking around the foyer in awe. His uncle must be important to have a home like this. "I think I'd like to try the 'whatever'." You tease, sliding your hands lower to squeeze his ass through his jeans.

“Yeah?” He leans in, growling playfully and he scrapes his teeth over your pulse. Never allowing himself to let his fangs descend, he tortures himself with the alluring scent of your blood. “Come on, baby,” he groans. “Let me show you where we’ll be staying.” His sire has already had his old rooms prepared and he knows that he won’t intrude on the two of you.

You let him guide you through the impressive hallways, walls lined with portraits, and you gasp when Max opens the large double doors. "Max. Wow. This is - wow." You look around at the large four-poster bed, the heavy velvet drapes. It looks like a vampire's lair and the thought makes you giggle. "What's so funny?" Max snorts after setting down your bags and you spin to face him. "Nothing. Just can't believe this is real. You are - I am so lucky to have you." You turn sappy, wanting him to know how much you appreciate him.

You slide your fingers through his hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and he slides his tongue into your mouth. You know you need to shower after the long plane ride so you pull back before it can get too hot and heavy. "I want to shower baby. Can you lift my case onto the table? I gotta find my toiletries."

“Of course, sweet cheeks.” He pulls back and gives you a little wink before rushing over to the bags. You don’t know about his vampiric strength, so it’s always fun to show off how strong he is. Lifting the heavy case easily and setting it on the table. “While you search for your toiletry bag, you want me to call down to the kitchen for anything? Something to drink? A snack?” Having a human lover means taking care of your needs, far more demanding than his own.

"Some water would be nice. A snack too. I don't know what your uncle likes or has. You know what I like so just pick something, okay?" You kiss his cheek, "thanks baby." You say as you rifle through your things for your toiletry bag and the bag containing your nightwear. You shower, glad to wash the hours of traveling from your skin, and after you dry off, you put the lacy little number you bought with Max's reaction in mind. You open the bathroom door and find Max sitting on the edge of the bed.

Checking his emails, Max looks up and freezes at the sight of you in the doorway. The lacy lingerie has his cock immediately hardening and he flips the phone out of his hand behind him, letting it land carelessly on the bed as he stands up. “Fuck, baby.” He growls. “You look good enough to eat.” He chuckles. “Fuck a snack, I want the whole damn meal.

You giggle at his hungry gaze and his hands find your hips, squeezing them, and you gasp at the strength in his grip. "Damn Max, you're gonna leave bruises." You warn him playfully and he has a guilty look in his eyes that you haven't seen before. "Hey. It's okay. I liked it." You promise, cupping his cheeks.

“Sorry baby.” He’s a little out of sorts, being here. The scent of vampires is concentrated, seeped into the stones and you don't even know. He’s feeling more possessive of you, and his more animalistic side is simmering just under the surface. “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises, guiding you back towards the bed. “By eating your pussy until you scream.”

"Now that's more like it, Phillips." You let him lay you down on the bed and you look up at him as he shrugs off his button-down and exposes his chest. He's not chiseled but he's built, a strength simmering beneath the skin that takes your breath away. He slides his hands along your legs, making you stare at him, chest heaving as arousal dampens your panties. "I love you." You sigh when he kisses your knee.

“I love you too.” He’s certain that he does and he wants to prove it to you. He wants to remind you of how good it is between you before you meet his sire. Starting to shift to his stomach, he kisses down your thigh, inhaling the scent of your wet pussy and the sweet blood in your veins with a loud, pleased groan.

You whimper when his mouth presses against your panties, mouthing at your clit through the lace, and it's enough to make a moan escape your lips. Loud and echoing off of the stone walls. "That's it, sweetheart. Lemme hear you." Max murmurs as he pulls your panties to the side and you watch as his dark eyes meet yours while he drags his tongue through your folds. "Shit." You pant, toes twitching as he dives in.

Max had been good at oral before, but it was always given selfishly. It was so the girl would suck his dick or brag to her girlfriends about how good he was. So he could possibly bang them later too. This is just because he wants to. Because he’s addicted to your taste and sounds. His tongue curling up inside you and then coming back out to flick over your clit as he devours you. Groaning into your cunt like a man starved, he could spend all night between your thighs just like this and be happy pulling orgasms from you.

You whimper as he happily eats you out like a man starved. You can never complain that Max isn’t a giver with the way he licks your cunt for hours. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair and he growls into your flesh. His fingers digging deep and you know he’s going to bruise you but you don’t care, too caught up in the feel of his tongue curling inside of you, his nose pressed against your clit. “Fuck, Max. So good. Always so good.” You praise him, “love this. Love you so much.”

Max loves when you praise him, soaking it up and it makes him work even harder to pull an orgasm out of you. His eyes are dark and lust blown as he watches you, just shy of turning yellow in his desire.

You see that dark look in his eyes that he gets a lot and you love it. The hunger there makes your stomach twist and pushes you closer to your orgasm. He pushes his tongue deeper, curling it inside of you and you fall over the edge. “Max!” You squeal, thighs squeezing his head as you cum, soaking his tongue and you throw your head back as your orgasm shakes your body.

Max growls, the sound vibrating into you and he eagerly drinks down every drop of your release that you will give him. Loving how completely undone you are because of him. You’ve told him how powerful the orgasms are and he gets drunk on the pleasure he gives you as he strokes you through the high with his tongue.

You reach down to run your fingers through his hair, a lazy smile on your face as you melt into the mattress. “Shit. I fucking love you, Phillips.” You sigh happily, licking your lips and you beckon him up to you by tugging on his hair. “Want you inside me.” You request softly.

Despite the fact that he is hard and aching, Max takes his time to kiss you. Pressing his lips to your gently and licking into your mouth when you open for him. Not minding your taste, you kiss him back eagerly as he starts to slowly cover your body with his own and slide his hands down to lift your legs up onto his hips. “I love you too, sweet cheeks.” He promises when he pulls back, looking into your eyes as he notches himself at your entrance and slowly starts to push inside you.

You moan his name as he pushes deep inside of you. "Shit Max, feels like you're in my guts." You groan in bliss as he nudges the back wall of your pussy. He is longer than any other lover you've had. You caress his back as he kisses along your neck, making you tilt your head until his lips are over your pulse. Unaware of the danger he poses as he scrapes his teeth over your skin. "Hmmm Max." You hum as he starts to move.

“You feel so good, baby.” He groans, pretending to pant because he doesn’t need to breathe. Sliding his arms underneath you, he pulls you closer as his hips start to rock fast and deep, making sure you feel every inch of his cock inside you . “Love you so much, you’re perfect for me.”

You know you’ve never felt like this about anyone. It’s gonna always be Max. He’s your forever and you don’t know how true that rings for him. Your hands caress his shoulders as you lift your thighs a little higher, allowing him to sink deeper inside of you. “Yes, baby. Oh shit. I’m gonna - you’re - I’m close.” You tell him, amazed at the ability he has to make you cum so fast.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” He groans, eyes rolling back at the way your cunt clenches down on him. “Cum for Max, show me how wet you get when I fuck you.” He leans down and presses his lips to yours again. “I love you. Cum for me.”

You moan into his mouth, unable to stop your orgasm from hitting you hard and your nails dig into his skin as you cum, toes curling against his ass as you clamp down on his cock with a moan.

He loves it. Moaning your name, he can’t help but fuck into you a little harder. Not too hard, he can’t hurt his little human, but enough that it enhances your orgasm and makes you squeal again. Max buries his head against your neck, hiding the way that his face starts to shift, feeling his own end starting to build. It only takes a few more pumps of his cock before he’s growling, pushing deep and filling you up with hot ropes of his useless seed.

You sigh as Max fills you up, loving the way he relaxes on top of you, and you kiss his hair as he grunts against your neck. “I love you Phillips. So much.” You murmur, caressing his back and you feel his muscles beneath the skin.

“I love you too.” He turns once his face has morphed back to normal and presses his lips to yours, making sure that he pants so you will believe that is out of breath. He slowly pulls out of you with a groan and nudges his nose against yours before he rolls off of you onto his back so you can cuddle against him. “Didn’t tear this set.” He muses as he slides his hand up and down your lingerie clad back. “Must be tired.” Turning, he kisses your forehead. “Do you want to soak in a bath baby, or take a nap?”

“Nap.” You murmur, shifting onto your side so you can look at him. “Definitely nap.” You close your eyes and you smile when Max kisses your shoulder as he leans over you. “Get some sleep.” He orders softly and you hum, knowing he will clean you up before he goes to sleep. He always falls asleep after you.

It never takes long for you to fall asleep after he’s fucked you. Watching you as your breathing starts to even out and before too long, you are asleep. It’s one of the reasons that you aren’t living together yet. You would notice that he never sleeps if you lived together. He could always pretend to have slept for the few nights you stayed over, but if you were constantly together, you would figure it out. You aren’t stupid. When he’s certain you won’t stir, he slowly shifts out from under you, moving towards the bathroom to get a washrag to clean you up. Smirking to himself when he sees the cum on the inside of your thighs and dripping out of you. While nothing could ever come of it, it makes him incredibly possessive to see it.

Max sighs as he lays down beside you, watching you sleep, and he wonders what you are dreaming about until he hears his name across the castle. He can hear his sire calling him from anywhere and he groans, shifting off of the bed to dress and make his way over to his “uncle’s” suite. “Max.” Serge greets Max when he opens the door. “It’s been a long time,”

“It has.” Max admits, knowing he has not been back for years but he doesn’t apologize for it. He had been busy making his way up the corporate ladder. “And this time you have brought a human.” Serge’s expression is amused and he watches his protegé carefully. “The entire east wing smells of her blood. She is sweet.”

Max swallows down the growl that threatens to make its way up his throat. “I’m assuming you’re here to ask me for permission to turn her?” He asks, knowing that Max needs the authorization of his maker to turn what some would call “his mate.” Max nods and stands straighter. “I’ll need to meet her of course. Tomorrow. I need to see if she’s suitable.” Serge hums, wiping some invisible lint off of his shirt.

“She will be suitable.” Max assures his sire, forgetting how abrupt he could be. “I- I love her.” He admits, knowing that Serge will take Max’s wants into account when meeting you. “She is perfect for me.”

Serge chuckles, “I’ll be the judge of that. She smells delicious so I’m sure she will be sweet. She has tamed you, Maxwell.” Serge playfully tuts, “I never thought I’d see the day.”

He bristles slightly but allows himself to relax. “She has.” He admits. “She balances me out. Keeps me from being outrageous like I used to be.” He wants this to go well. “A perfect mate for me.”

Serge nods, “we will see tomorrow. I just wanted to see you when you arrived. You may go back to your human. She must be tired after all that traveling.” Serge says and looks out of the window at the moon that has risen high in the sky.

“Tomorrow.” Max nods and lets himself out of the suite to walk back towards his rooms. Hoping that Serge is impressed by you and allows him to turn you.

****

To say you’re nervous to meet Max’s uncle is an understatement. You know you need to impress the only family Max has if you have any chance of your relationship continuing and you focus on making sure you look good this morning so that Max’s uncle is impressed by you. You exhale shakily when Max calls you from the bedroom to let you know a breakfast tray is here. “I can’t eat, Max.” You admit, “what if your uncle hates me? I can’t ask you to choose between me and your only family.”

“Don’t worry baby.” He reaches out and wraps his arm around you to pull you close. “He’s gonna love you.” He nudges his nose against yours before he kisses you. “Please just eat a little? For me? I don’t want you to be hungry.”

You nod, kissing him again, knowing you should probably have something to settle your stomach. You reach down to take a piece of buttered toast off of the tray and bite into it, watching as Max prepares your coffee the way you like it.

“Don’t think of him as someone scary.” Max tells you, turning and handing you the coffee. “He’s just my uncle. I’m introducing the woman I love to him. He’s gonna be thrilled. You’re far too good for me.”

You take the cup and playfully roll your eyes. “Sure, Phillips.” You snort and take a sip of the coffee. “Says the man who brought me to a fucking castle.” Max chuckles and you set the coffee down after finishing it. “Okay let’s go.” You brush yourself down and try to ignore the hammering of your heart as you prepare to meet Max’s uncle.

Max holds your hand after leaving the suite, wanting to reassure you. “You look beautiful today, but you look beautiful everyday.” He compliments, lifting your hand up to kiss the back of it. “We are going to meet Serge in the drawing room. Nothing too formal, baby.”

“The drawing room isn’t formal?” You snort and Max smirks as he squeezes your hand to guide you through the ornate house to the drawing room. You exhale shakily, unaware that both men can hear your heart pounding as you enter the drawing room to find a man around Max’s age standing in the room already. That confuses you. Unless he looks really good for his age, Max can’t have an uncle that’s the same age as him.

Max beams, guiding you close to the other man. Saying your name, he motions towards Serge. “This is my uncle, Serge.” He explains. “Serge, this is the woman I want to marry.”

Your heart flutters and you turn to smile at Max as he says that. You figured he wanted to take the next step bringing you here but to hear him say it aloud has you grinning from ear to ear. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You hold your hand out to his uncle who hums as he takes your hand in his. “She’s a pretty one, Max.” He says with a wink towards you, squeezing your hand. “Do you think she’d make a good vampire?” He asks and you can’t stop the confused chuckle escaping your lips.

Max doesn’t laugh, just nodding seriously. “She will.” He tells his sire. “She has amazing self control and she’s smart as hell. If you allow me to change her, it will be good for our coven here and in the States.” Serge cares that he chooses wisely when turning people now, the unfortunate fiascos that can occur when you turn too many has been a lesson learned over the decades. He turns to look at you with a proud smile. “She would be amazing.”

You turn to look at Max with confused eyes, waiting for him to say “ha, gotcha,” but he doesn’t and that makes you gasp. “Wait…are you joking? Or - or are you for real? Like- like vampires exist and I- you are one?” You ask Max, still waiting for him to burst out laughing and say it’s all a joke.

“It’s real sweet cheeks.” Max reaches for your hand again. “It’s the reason that I’ve not been able to move in with you yet. Serge isn’t my uncle, he’s my sire. He made me a vampire and I have to get permission from him to tell you about all this.”

You pull your hand away from his reach and stare at Max in shock. He's a vampire. He drinks blood. He wants you to become a vampire. You feel sick and dizzy and have a thousand different emotions. Your vision goes fuzzy and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you collapse.

That had not been the response Max was expecting. His inhumane speed keeps you from hitting the ground and he scoops you up to move you towards the sofa. Serge tuts and shakes his head. “Does she do this often?” He asks, unsure of how well you would take transforming into a creature of the night if you fainted at the news.

“No. She’s shocked.” Max huffs, caressing your cheek and looking down at you worriedly once he’s got you settled.

“Well she might be shocked but you have two options now. Either she’s changed or you kill her. You know the sacred rule…no human can know about us. It’s one or the other and if you can’t make a choice, I’ll have to kill her.” Serge declares.

“I’ll change her.” Max promises, knowing that he can’t kill you, not when he loves you like he does. “When she wakes up and accepts what I am, she’ll want to be changed.”

Serge nods and turns to walk out of the room, bored with the scene. “See that she does, Maxwell.” He warns his vampiric offspring. “Or I will destroy her.”

****

You wince when you come around, the bright light hurting your eyes and you hear Max shut the curtain as you open your eyes properly. “Max?” You croak and Max kneels beside you.

“I’m here baby.” He promises and you swallow, your throat dry. “Here.” Max says as he hands you a glass of water and you shift to sit up.

You take a few gulps and hand the glass back to Max. “I had the weirdest dream. That you were a vampire and you -” You glance around the drawing room and back to Max. “Oh God. It’s true. You - oh my God.” You choke, trying to back away from him.

“It’s okay.” He soothes you, keeping his voice low. “Nothing has changed. I’ve been a vampire this entire time and nothing’s happened, right? I just can now offer you one hell of a health plan, eternal life.” He jokes, sending you a reassuring smile. “I love you baby, and I want to be with you forever.”

“I thought - I thought you were proposing.” You choke and Max chuckles, “I kinda am. This is the vampy way of proposing.” He winks at you and you shake your head, “that’s why- you don’t eat. You don’t sleep. You - oh God. How didn’t I see something was off?”

“Because I didn’t want you too, baby.” Max reaches for you, wanting to caress your face, but you rear back from him. Making him frown, upset that you think he would hurt you. He’s never wanted to hurt you and he never would. “It’s okay baby, I’m still me. The same man you love.”

"I - I need time to think." You murmur, head hurting from trying to process that Max is a fucking vampire, and you struggle to reconcile that the man you adore also kills people. "I - what would - if you were to change me...what happens?"

“Well….” It’s good that you are asking questions. “You would be a vampire. You’d be extremely thirsty for a few days, but I will make sure you have exactly what you need.” He promises. “You’d have better hearing, vision, and strength. You wouldn’t need any sleep. You would be the best version of yourself.”

You bite your lip as you process his words. "What about...what about having kids? Would we be able to have a family?" You ask him. You had never discussed kids. You've tried but Max has always distracted you and now you know why he did.

“Baby….” Max sighs, blowing out a sound even though he doesn’t need to breathe. “I can’t have kids. I could never have kids. Not since we met.” He won’t mention that it’s because he’s technically dead. “But we could have our own version of kids. Anyone we change.”

“Oh." You sound so defeated, almost devastated. You have been so focused on your career that you always put the children talk on the back burner but you wanted the choice. Now that's being taken away from you if you want to stay with Max. "What - what would happen if I wasn't changed?" You ask and Max closes his eyes for a second, "I have to change you...or kill you." He barely breathes out the second part but you hear it. "If I don't, then Serge will." He admits and you nod slowly.

"I love you. I do. So much. I- I don't know." You confess and Max knows he made a mistake bringing you here.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I'll take you home. I'll - I can sneak you out and hide you. Serge won't find you." He promises and you reach for his hand, reminded that this is Max.

"What would happen to you?" You aren't stupid, you know there'd be consequences.

“I'd be killed but I've had a good life. I - you made it better than I could've hoped." He reveals and you feel your eyes sting at the thought of him being killed.

"Max. No. No. I - I'll do it. You can change me." You tell him and he shakes his head, "I can't. I know you don't want it. I can see it in your eyes. I can't change you and see you hate me in a decade when you realize how lonely this life can be." He admits and you squeeze his hand, "I want it." You try to convince yourself and him, "don't you want to spend forever with me?" You ask, wondering if he's changed his mind.

“I will have spent forever with you.” He’s grateful that Serge had disappeared to do whatever so he could talk to you. “My last days will be with you. That’s all I want.” He promises. He knows he can’t turn you against your will and you don’t love him enough to give up your humanity. “Quick. We need to leave now.” He tells you, standing up and pulling you up with him. “I’ll keep you safe.”

"No. No. Max- I won't - I can't let you die because of me. Please. Change me now." You beg, pushing on his chest as much as you can and tilting your head so you can display your neck to him. "I can't let you die baby. Just bite me, now. Please. Before I change my mind and freak out. Do it."

Max loves you even more for begging him to change you to save his life. He cups your cheek and smiles at you gently, ignoring the panic in your words and leaning in to kiss your lips. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He orders you, looking deep into your eyes and hypnotizing you with his powers or persuasion. “You will sleep now.”

You collapse into his arms, passed out as you unwillingly fall asleep. Max carries you through the house, abandoning your things to prioritize your safety and he is quick to get into the car and drive you to the airport. He needs to get you out of Romania before Serge realizes you are gone. His sire has always had such a strong conviction to vampiric law and Max knows he won't rest until order is restored.

Max keeps you asleep until he's laying you down in your bed and he pulls out his phone to call that witch girl who he fucked a few years ago. He needs a protection spell on your apartment. When you wake up, you're extremely confused to find yourself back in your bed and Max nowhere to be found. "Max?" You call out, throat dry, and you start to sob when you realize what he's done. He's going to be killed and it's all your fault.

Max has been listening outside your apartment door, waiting for you to wake up. Since the witch has placed the spell on your dwelling, even he can’t cross your threshold. A horrible side effect, but he knows he will do whatever he needs to keep you safe. He can’t even touch the door to knock. “It’s okay, baby.” He closes his eyes and sighs, standing back a few feet from your door. “You’re safe.” He hears you rush out of your bedroom and fling the door open. “Don’t step outside!” He barks harshly. “You’re safe inside. Serge can’t reach you there.”

You don’t cross the threshold but you stare at him with tears running down your cheeks, “why? Why did you do this? I- I wanted you to change me. Now you’re going to be killed. I can’t lose you. I love you, Phillips and I - I’m so sorry. I should’ve said yes. I should’ve let you change me from the get go.”

Max shakes his head. “I love you too, sweet cheeks.” He promises you. “That's why I can’t change you.” He shrugs slightly. “You want kids, and to grow old, and I can’t do any of those things.” He swallows harshly. “I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure Serge doesn’t hurt you, even if it means that he has to kill me.” He wishes he could kiss you one last time, but the kiss he gave you while you were asleep will have to do. “Don’t be sorry, and don’t blame yourself.”

You shake your head, "don't do this. Please." You choke, clinging to the door frame as you stay in the apartment and Max blows you a kiss, "I love you, baby. Be good." He says and walks down the hall, letting you know he's going to sacrifice himself. You sob, falling to the floor and you can't let him do this. You rush out of your apartment down the hall towards where Max just disappeared down the stairwell when the elevator dings.

"Silly girl. He was trying to protect you and you just ruined his plan. Nevermind, it makes my job easier." Serge chuckles, speeding towards you to grab your neck, making you cry out. "Max!"

Max hears Serge, growling and whipping around to race back down the hallway. Fear and anger when he sees his sire holding you by the neck makes Max snarl. His face shifting and transforming in the truly horrific visage of his true self, eyes yellow and bone structure heavy. “Let her go.” He growls, wishing you had never left the safety of the apartment.

“You can’t kill her, Max and she has to die. She knows the secret and she can’t be left alive. Either she dies or you do and I can’t lose you. You’re like a son to me. Just let me kill the silly girl. You’ll forget all about her in a few years and you’ll find another human.” Serge scoffs, squeezing your neck a little harder and you reach up to grab his forearms.

“No.” The growl is low, furious as Max speeds towards you and his sire. Reaching out and grabbing the older vampire’s arm, he twists it to make him drop you, lowering his shoulder to push the threat away from you as he hisses, his fangs descending, deadly sharp canines on display.

You gasp, backing up into the wall as Max grabs his maker and shoves him against the wall in your hallway. The drywall cracks and Max growls as he manages to wrap his hand around Serge’s throat. “You motherfucker.” He growls and squeezes as he fumbles to open his jacket.

“She’s worth this, Max? If you kill me, you’ll die.” Serge reminds him.

“I don’t care.” Max snarls. “As long as she lives, I can die a happy man.” Instead of tearing Serge’s head off, Max lunges forward and sinks his teeth into the man’s throat, tearing it out and then pulls out the stake he had put in his jacket. Plunging it into his maker’s chest, fully prepared to die to keep you safe.

You scream as you watch Serge explode, blood covering the walls of your apartment hall and you shake your head. “Max no!” You cry, scared that he’s going to die because of you. “Why did you do that!” You shout, “You are going to - oh God. Max.” You fall to the floor when he turns around and you see him covered in blood.

He’s getting a few more seconds. Seconds he doesn’t want to waste. Grabbing you, Max hauls you close to him and presses his blood covered lips to yours. “I love you.” He promises, right before the pressure in his body builds to the point where he screams.

You cling to him, uncaring that he’s likely to explode in a spray of blood. You want to be close to him in his final moments, the life he sacrificed for yours. “I love you.” You cry as he screams until he slumps down beside you. He doesn’t explode, he collapses onto the floor unconscious and you sob, reaching for him to caress his cheek. His bone structure is still heavy, depicting his true nature until it starts to shift under your touch. “I’m so sorry, Max.” You sob, leaning down to press your face to his chest, mourning the man you love so dearly.

Long minutes pass. His body is still and unmoving. Changing back to the body of a normal man and not exploding into a bloody pile of goop like you had expected. You continue to sob against his chest until a strange sound captures your attention. One that you realize you had never heard before despite laying on his chest after sex. A tiny thud. Repeating again and again until it starts to resemble something you never thought you would hear. A heartbeat.

You pull back, looking down at Max in shock, and he inhales sharply after several seconds, spluttering as he chokes on a breath. "Max!" You cry, thinking something is wrong until he opens his eyes. "Max. Are you - are you okay?" You ask, hands covered in blood as you cup his cheeks.

Max grimaces, his head pounding in the first headache he’s had in…..since he was turned. “I- fuck-“ he gasps out, feeling his lungs start to burn from the lack of oxygen. “I’m- I’m human again.” He whispers, realizing what all of that must mean.

You are in shock, your palm on his thumping heart and you look at him. “Max. You’re human.” You gasp, helping him to sit up and you know he has to be feeling everything all at once. “Are you okay?”

“I feel like shit.” Max admits and after he thinks about that for a moment, he starts to laugh. “Baby, I feel like shit!” He repeats, aware that he’s never felt like shit as a vampire. “Serge must have known that killing him wouldn’t kill me.” He realizes. “Motherfucker lied.”

You caress his cheek, “you’re human.” You are in shock and You surge forward to hug him. “You’re alive. Baby. Can I - you hungry?” You ask, wanting to look after him as much as possible.

Max wraps his arms around you and frowns slightly as his stomach growls. “I- yes?” It’s more of a question since he’s only experienced thirst since being changed. “I- oh my god, baby, I’m human. I-“ he chokes up and buries his face in your neck.

You caress his back, wondering if he’s happy or angry that he’s human. “Are you- are you upset that you don’t have - that you aren’t a vampire anymore?” You ask, unable to believe how warm he feels beneath your touch. You’ve never noticed that before.

“I don’t care about being a vampire.” That’s true, he realizes as Max pulls away to look into your eyes. “I want to be with you. Forever, for twenty years, it doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you.”

Your lower lip trembles as you stare at him with tears in your eyes. “I love you Max. I want to be with you. I would’ve spent forever with you but I’m happy to spend the rest of my life with you.” You promise, “I just - I hope you don’t regret this.” You sigh, leaning in to softly kiss him.

“I’d never regret you, sweet cheeks.” Max promises you. “But I’m starving.” He groans. “And I’m so fucking sore. And my head hurts.”

“Do you want to shower and I’ll make you something to eat?” You ask, running your fingers through his blood soaked hair. “And I’ll get you some Tylenol.” You promise, knowing that he’s going to have to adjust to human life again.

Max grins, leaning in and kissing you again. “I fucking love you.” He breathes out. “That sounds like heaven. And then I want it see what human sex is like with you.” He teases, happy that he didn’t become a Jackson Pollock painting and he gets a second chance at being human, with you. “See if those swimmers work now.”

You chuckle, “well I have an IUD. Didn’t realize it was a waste of time, but let’s go get you that shower.” You say, shifting to stand up. “I love you, Max Phillips.” You say when he’s standing up and you guide him into your apartment, leaving the blood in the hall to deal with later and you shut the door, guiding Max to your bathroom. You turn on the water and work on stripping off his blood soaked clothes. “I’m so happy you’re alive. I- I should’ve stayed inside. I nearly lost you.” You choke, cupping his cheeks once he’s bare before you.

“Baby, I would do anything for you.” Max reminds you, holding onto your waist. “Even die.” He chuckles. “But I’m glad that didn’t happen.” He admits, leaning in and sighing softly.

“Me too.” You murmur, working on removing your own clothes and you guide him into the shower. “Temperature okay?” You ask and he nods. You grab the body wash you’ve kept in your shower for him and you work on washing him, loving the way he groans when you rub his head. “My hero. Saving me. Sacrificing for me. You are incredible Max.” You whisper, wanting him to know how much you adore him.

Max hums, closing his eyes and enjoying the heat of the water and your hands on his skin. “You are worth it.” He murmurs quietly. “You’re worth everything, baby.”

You smile and kiss his chest, right above his now beating heart. You owe him your life and your humanity and you will love him until the day you die. You shift to rinse him off, working fast to clean yourself up. This isn’t sexual, purely comfort and you work fast until you are handing him a towel. “Get some sweats and I’ll make you some food. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup sound good?”

Groaning, his mouth practically waters at the idea of the simple meal. “That sounds amazing. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had that?” He asks. “I will eat anything that you want to fix happily.”

You smile, happy to look after him after he’s taken such good care of you. You quickly dress in your shorts and tank top and make your way into the kitchen to prepare dinner for you both. You are surprisingly hungry after nearly being killed and it doesn’t take long for you to have the meal on the kitchen table. “Max. It’s ready!” You shout as he comes out of your bedroom.

Max stumbles out of the bedroom, his headache still a dull throb and he’s actually used the bathroom for the first time in years. “It smells amazing.” He’s drooling as he sits down and looks at the deceptively simple meal. “Thank you, baby.”

You know it’s a big adjustment for him but you’ll be there every step of the way. You set the Tylenol down with the bottle of water and tell him to drink. “Drink, baby. Take some Tylenol. You have been through a lot.” You say and he follows your order, taking two pills and swallowing them before he digs into the meal.

It tastes so good that Max can’t help but moan and groan over the meal. “Oh my god.” He moans, chewing his bite of grilled cheese and taking a spoonful of the soup. “I could eat this everyday for the rest of my life.”

You chuckle, “you can if you want. Maybe we can go back to those restaurants and you can actually eat your steak. Or try something different.” You suggest, loving the way he’s enjoying the food. You’ve never seen him like this before. You finish your meal after he does, full and suddenly exhausted. “I’ll put this in the dishwasher. Go get ready for bed. I’ll be right in.”

It’s strange to be tired after years of not sleeping. Pretending to rest while he lays with you to make you think he had just woken up. Now, his entire body feels like it’s about to shut down and he still wants to touch you. He follows your orders and goes to get ready for bed, using the tooth brush that he leaves here.

You watch him come back into your bedroom and you pull the covers over, letting him get under them with you and you shift to pull him close, throwing your leg over his hip. “You have freckles.” You murmur, tracing his chest. “You didn’t have those before.”

He chuckles a little self consciously, wondering if the human version of Max Phillips will be exciting enough for you. “Yeah.” He hums. “I used to go to the beach a lot. Oh shit, I can be out in the sun for more than ten minutes again.” He realizes, eyes widening. “Can we go to the beach this weekend?” He asks excitedly.

You smile, “of course babe. We can go.” You promise and lean in to press your lips to his collarbone. “I’m so happy you’re alive. Vampire or human. I don’t think I could ever survive without you, Phillips. I love you so much.” You confess and lean in to kiss his jaw. “You saved me.” You murmur against his skin, “let me - I want to suck your cock.” You say, grinding yourself against him.

“Baby….” He whines, loving the idea. “Okay but you can't let me cum.” He tells you breathlessly. “I don’t know if I can stay hard. And I want you to cum too.

You nod, knowing that Max’s endless fucking isn’t possible now that’s he’s human but you don’t care. You love him more than anything else. You shift to pull the covers back, loving that he’s already half hard as you carefully pull down his sweats after he lifts his hips. You settle between his legs, spitting into your hand and you grip his cock, looking at those beautiful dark eyes as you lean in to wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

“Baby, I fucking love your mouth. It’s so good for so many things. Kissing me, sucking my cock, telling me that you love me.” He groans. “I want to tell you everyday how much I love your mouth.”

You moan around him, loving how he twitches inside of your mouth, and you work the base with your fingers, letting your saliva drip down to your digits. You groan when he grabs the back of your neck and you think he's going to push you further down his cock but he pulls you off. You whine, saliva dripping down your chin, "baby. Why?" You huff despite your cunt dripping for him.

“Want to be inside you.” He pants. “Want to feel you around my cock when I cum.” There’s enough time later on for him to let you swallow his cum. Right now he’s wanting to live every day like it’s his last and make sure you know how much he adores you.

You shift, pushing your shorts down and moving fast to straddle him, wanting to take care of him after his body has gone through so much. You reach down to grip his cock. "I love you." You murmur as you start to sink down onto his cock.

“Oh fuck baby, oh fuck.” Max groans, his toes curling up. “I love how you feel. It’s so, it’s so good. You're hotter. Wetter somehow.”

“You are hotter.” You tell him, “you feel - you feel so good Max.” You moan, caressing his bare chest to place your palm over his pounding heart as you start to move. You moan his name and he hisses when you clench around him as you start to bounce on his cock.

It’s crazy to feel lightheaded and out of breath. Feeling more now that he was human again. His fingers curl into the flesh at your hips and he moans your name. “Fuck baby, your so pretty.”

You preen at his praise, making you whimper his name and you rock a little faster. He is so soft beneath your touch and you never realized how cold he was until you feel his heated skin beneath your fingertips. “God, I love you Max. So much. Need - gonna make me -” You reach between you to rub your clit, so close to your orgasm.

He watches for a moment, obsessed with how you look. Then he’s slapping your hand away to rub your clit himself. He wants to be the one to make you cum. Loving the way you immediately buck when he takes over.

Your mouth falls open as you rock on his cock. “Yes baby. Oh shit. Yes. I’m gonna - fuck. You’re gonna make me cum.” You hiss, your thighs shaking as you grip his cock inside of you. Soaking him as you cum and you slump forward into his chest.

“Oh god, oh god, that feels so good.” He moans, wrapping his arms around you and sighing softly. He’s almost content to just stay like this but he wants to feel an orgasm as a human again so he starts to rock his hips up slowly. “I love you, baby. Nothing’s gonna keep us apart.”

You know there’s so much that could keep you apart but you’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure you spend the rest of your lives together. He rocks up into you and you get yourself together so you can rock down onto his cock, loving the way he hisses when your walls grip him. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel it.” You tell him, “wanna feel you cum inside of me.”

Max whimpers, eyes closed and he gasps out your name. Knowing that he should have died today, but he’s been given a new lease on life. “I love you.” He moans, thrusting up into you and painting your walls with his hot seed.

You moan, loving how it feels and you caress his chest as he twitches inside of you. “I love you.” You murmur, wanting to say it over and over now that you’re both safe. You aren’t sure how long you stay like that, just breathing each other in as he softens inside of you

Max’s eyes close almost immediately, his arms wrapped around you and he breathes you in. Smiling softly as he truly gets to inhale your scent. He might not have eternal life or everlasting youth anymore, but he has something much better, you.

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