#max phillips bloodsucking bastards

[baronessvonglitter]

Forever’s Gonna Start Tonight

Max Phillips x gn!reader

Word count: 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."

[syd-djarin]

Divas (gn)…..

which P-boy is wearing a vial of your blood around his neck and you’re wearing a vial of his?

(remember Angelina Jolie and Billy Bob Thornton?)

The obvious one is Max Phillips

I could also see Ezra 🖤

who else? 👀

Summoning some moots who can match my freak: @evolnoomym @magpiepills @almostempty @katiexpunk @sp00kymulderr @beefrobeefcal @strang3lov3 @guiltyasdave @gasolinerainbowpuddles @tightjeansjavi

[absurdthirst]

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

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|| 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.

[pedrorascal]

It's the most wonderful time of the year 🎃👻🧛

[lokischocolatefountain]

Pedro Pascal choosing roles

[yorksgirl]

I’d love to edge this vampire 🧛🏻‍♂️

if vampires can't come inside without permission does that mean that you can just keep riding that thang and they can't um . yknow

[bruhlpng]

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

[almostfoxglove]

THE PRETTIEST

PART I: ANNOUNCEMENT

written for @quinnnfabrgay-writes & @hauntedhowlett-writes' #MONSTERSMASH24 challenge

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Max Phillips x f!Reader CREATURE: GHOST + MAX PHILLIPS WORD COUNT: 4.3k CW: Smut (piv), voyeurism/non-consensual voyeurism (he's invisible and reader doesn't know he's watching), Max is a bit of a creep okay he's doing his best here, protective!max, jealous!max, enough manager speak that I got tech startup flashbacks.

SUMMARY: After a restructuring at the company, Max finds himself dead—this time for good—and haunting his old duplex. Lucky for him, you move in.

read on ao3 | series masterlist | almostfoxglove masterlist

Of all the hell holes where one might waste eternity, Max is pretty sure his vacant duplex is the worst of them. Six rooms, two floors spined by a spiral staircase—all boring and hollow and dusty. Disgusting. How difficult would it have been to let him haunt the office? He could’ve leered over all those pathetic little office drones, driven them crazy forever. Fucked with their desk chairs, their hard drives, mixed up all their coffee mugs. Not that Max has mastered the art of affecting the material world yet, but he will.

Petty? Sure. But you can’t blame a guy for feeling a little owed after all management’s little reorganization. His relocation to the goddamn fucking afterlife—and to this prison of an apartment where there’s no one to subjugate or fuck, no less. 

What a waste of his potential. His talents.

Who knows how long he spends stuck alone in this place until someone shows up, but eventually people do. The real estate agent—Doreen and her little beehive hairdo, her eyebrows always penciled on too thin—and, over what Max estimates to be about three weeks, a parade of nobodies she tours around, preaching godless, truthless sermons of the duplex’s good bones and the good life they could have in these dreary fucking rooms. He’d be proud of her sales pitch if he weren’t so goddamn pissed.

He tries, he really does. Yells often, I’m right here, Dor-een, honey, right fucking here! And waves his arms in front of her face, but he can scream as loud as he likes; nobody hears a thing. 

For the first time in his many lives, people walk straight through him. 

There might be, possibly, some karma in that. 

Max doesn’t care for it.

It’s misery until the day Doreen brings him you.

Come on, Max whines, slouching lazily on your couch. Curled up with your bedsheets cloaked over your head, you rot on the cushions beside him, four hours deep in a Desperate Housewives marathon, oblivious to his company: your usual Sunday routine.

As usual you don’t hear him, don’t see him either. Sitting right beside you, making no dents in the pillows, his glossy dress shoes kicked up on the coffee table. Still he finds himself complaining, one hand gesticulating wildly at the screen, You’re killing me, baby. It’s obviously the fucking neighbor! Guy’s got a box of death under his pool!

Meanwhile you just sit there, enthralled as Eva Longoria struts about in her tiny skirts and tiny shoes. Max tells himself the only reason he stays in the room when you watch this garbage is for her and all the other pretty housewives or to leer at what bits of you peek out from your duvet each time you reach for your tea on the coffee table—a wrist, your elbow, and when you knock over the popcorn bowl and slip the sheets from your head, the lovely hollow of your perfect neck. Truth is, if you were to quiz him, he’d be able to cite the plot of the whole season beat for beat.

Not that he’s enjoying this, this—this garbage. Never.

No fucking way. He’s just perceptive. Has an excellent memory.

Plus this is the one way he gets to be close to you. Such a pretty little thing, taunting him without ever knowing it. That sweet mouth, those clever eyes. Showering with the bathroom door sometimes cracked like you know he’s here and dying to peek through the veil of your jasmine-laced steam. Chewing the ends of your pencils while you sketch out some masterpiece on looseleaf that you never get around to painting.

Sitting on your couch, at your dining table, at the foot of your bed while you brush out your hair after a long day—it’s the closest Max gets to feeling like being stuck here might not be hell, just purgatory: always a breath away from the thing he’d like to touch, but at least he’s not simmering in battery acid or being flogged. He’s had his share of blood-bag roommates—brief fascinations that drained so quickly—but you? You’ve lived in Max’s apartment for three months and he’s no less drunk on you than he was the day Doreen toured you around. Can’t quite put his finger on why. Maybe it’s the longing, the forest fire that sears through his ice-box chest every time your eyes skim his face by accident, never lingering. 

What can he say? Max is a man, after all. Under all the blood and monster.

And you’re the prettiest creature he’s ever seen.

When the show cuts to commercial you mute the TV, immune to the serpent-tongued promises of liars like him. Lured by nothing, by nobody. Already slinking from your bedsheet cave, all bare legs and cute little ankles striding out of the room, leaving him with the ghost of you, the smell of your perfume kissed into the duvet.

What he wouldn’t give for the chance to sell himself to you. He’d charm you all the way to your perfect knees.

In a way, you and Max are the perfect couple. You’re free to do as you wish, and he’s free to watch you every second that you spend at home, miserable the moment you leave for work in those tight fucking pencil skirts. No better than a dog, he spends his vagrant hours of isolation alternating between puppy-eyed pouting and anxious pacing, tortured until your evening return. 

How did he ever live here alone? Alive or otherwise. He can’t remember now. There are too many rooms, too few sounds, too few breaths, too few footsteps. He misses you. Your bedhead and pajamas, your blanket nest in front of the TV, the cute way you answer the phone. 

Today, you don’t come home till eight fifteen—and Max has spent thirteen hours losing what’s left of his mind.

Baby, he sighs, rushing for the front room at the first turn of the lock, a grin stretched to dimples in his cheeks. Seems even if you can’t hear him, Max can’t help talking to you, perhaps childlike in his belief that someday you will. Where the hell have you—

His sentence hacks itself in half, drops to silence, because you’re blushing when you come in, eyes shyly downcast, one hand shaking the rain loose from your hair, tendrils clinging to your cheeks. “Here,” you say, and for a beat Max thinks you’re speaking to him. His mouth drops, stunned. 

Is this it? Can you finally see him?

“Come in, come in,” you say.

Then a man steps in behind you, shuts the door behind his hulking form, and if there were any blood to speak of in his veins, Max is certain it’d boil at the sight of him. Tall and empty-headed, dopey as a dog, stomping his blocky, muddy shoes all over your hallway. Yours and Max’s. Getting goddamn filth on your hall carpet. Given just a few material cells, Max’d have this guy dead before he makes it to the living room, wouldn’t even bother drinking him. This breed of dumbass isn’t worth the mess.

But he’s useless. Less than a gnat. Sentenced to watch you trail this motherfucker who wouldn’t know Tom Ford from his Brioni into your kitchen, jackets shedding and small talk traded—boring, boring, boring, but you laugh when the guy makes a shitty joke about the weather. 

This guy, this nobody, gets to make you laugh while Max never even gets a chance to try.

On second thought, maybe this is hell after all.

“S’a nice place,” the dumbass says, laying his knockoff blazer over the back of a barstool. Cheap stitching. Terrible, too-thin lapels.

You look about the room as if standing in it for the first time and for a moment your eyes pass right over Max, whose long-dead heart winces. Yelps. If you could see him, there’s no way you’d entertain this guy. This nameless little worker bee. Max would make you laugh properly, how you laugh when something funny happens on TV or when you get a letter in the mail from your brother. Sudden and twinkling, often ending in a snort. Adorable.

Shrugging, you turn into your fridge and say, “Yeah, I like it,” and exhume two slim cans of vodka seltzer to set on the kitchen island.

Thank you, Max says, his arms crossed over his chest.

The dumbass’ brows flicker up as he regards your offering. Idiot. What was he expecting from a girl like you, a PBR? These are delicious. Elegant. Calorie wise. Max understands. Max would drink that with a smile and a thank you. 

Or maybe he’d skip right to drinking you.

Sensing his hesitation, you crack your can and take a sip. “They’re not as bad as they look,” you say, a nervous chuckle bittering your lips as you watch your date open his can and bring it to his nose to sniff. “Sorry. I don’t have anything else.”

You can do so much better, baby, Max sighs. You’ve got better right here.

Against his will, the hours pass. The evening goes on. You and the dumbass only drink half a can each—him with a half-snarled lip and you with a self-conscious twinge—but somehow by nightfall he’s got you scooching your barstool closer to him, allowing his slimy hand to rest on your thigh. 

Max bristles. Seethes. Don’t do it, he pleads to you, unheard. He’s not gonna fuck you right, just look at him. Send this idiot home and watch TV with me. Do anything but this guy, baby, anything but him.

You bend in slow motion and it’s agonizing, the tilt of your head as you press your lips to his. The wet slurp of his mouth taking the second you meet. A terrible kiss, though you’re polite enough not to flinch. Breaking from the prod of his pink-slug tongue to offer your neck, his mouth immediately moving, and fuck baby, it’s like you’re trying to kill him all over again. Drive a stake straight through Max’s blackened heart by giving up what he longs to claim.

In an instant, anger births itself from the hollow of his chest. His hand shoots out in useless violence, swinging as if to strike a seltzer can from the countertop and knowing it won’t do a lick of good as ire devours him, igneous and fervid, searing hot as life in his icy hands.

The can jumps from the counter and clunks to the floor, its contents gluggluglug-ing across the tiles.

“The fuck?” Max hears the dumbass gasp as he leaps from his barstool, eyes bugged wide and child-like and weak. You freeze, lips pink and swollen, staring down at the emptying can. 

It’s a shame neither of you can see the way Max smiles. 

Now that’s what I’m talking about, he crows. Finally a little substance around here! 

This is good. No, it’s better than good. This is the rush after a promotion, after the deal that closes out the quarter over target. The look on every sad sack’s face knowing they lost and he won.

This is the bite that finally breaks skin.

Maddening, burgeoning, addictive.

He’s real again. A goddamn Beetlejuice for you, baby. He’s gonna scare this fucknut out of here and have you to himself. First was the can, next is you, and he’s gonna kiss you so much better than that. In celebration, Max kicks one foot to send the can soaring across the kitchen floor and watches his shoe pass right through it, aluminum undisturbed on the floor. No, he mutters, kicking again. No, fucking—come on, you worthless piece of shit—

Your nervous laugh is too far away to comfort him. Distant too is your voice saying, “My room’s this way,” and the shuffling of your footsteps as Max loses his shit on the seltzer can that now refuses to budge no matter the swell of his outrage. By the time he snaps from his incensed trance, your barstools are empty. He blinks, breathless with muscle memory—his lungs wheezing because they remember wheezing, not out of need.

Baby? he calls out.

But you reply. A murmur too lusty to be a giggle—Max’s body coils up at the sound, taut and needy, and carries him toward the sound. He forgets, briefly, who you’re with. Believes he’ll find you in your bedroom alone beneath the covers, hands fluttering as you bring yourself to the edge of release. How beautiful you’d be, gasping in pleasure. He might close his eyes and pretend it’s him drawing out your every breathy, needy sound.

You’ve left the bedroom door cracked, and though in death he’s no longer bound by silly things like permission, Max has since you moved in found himself in the habit of respecting closed doors. Walls are chalk outlines over which he’s free to step, but he doesn’t, not if you’ve closed the gate. He’s not a monster. Or not a total monster—whatever, semantics. Point is that he only spies on your showers if you’ve cracked the door. Indulges in the soft moments of you sleeping only when you’ve left him that sliver of room.

Like the room you’ve left him now: slender and tempting, this stripe of your bedroom wall. A Degas print in a copper frame, the wooden post at the foot of your bed. 

Your sweet voice cooing here, like this, and the creak of your mattress.

Something black and silty sinks in Max’s stomach when he steps inside. Not the rage from moments ago. Something darker, heavier. Jealousy. Half-sheeted by your duvet, the dumbass you’ve brought home rocks above you, his shirt gone, his beefcake arm blocking the view of your chest, and though you’re making all the right sounds it’s obvious this isn’t any good.

He’s not fucking you right.

Your hands clawing at his back are too stiff. Your yeses a beat too slow. As the idiot pants—thrusts choppy and graceless—Max watches your hand tap his shoulder blade as you breathe, “Flip over.”

“What?” bumbles the guy, his hips stalling. “Oh shit—fuck yeah. Okay.”

Another grunt, then he rolls off and Max gets a glimpse of you—your red bra lacy and see through, your nipples so pretty underneath. It just isn’t right, the awkwardness of this colossal douchebag as he settles on his back and you ruck back the covers to straddle him, not at all breathless, hardly even flushed, your hair all messy at the back from disappointing friction.

“Shit,” the guy gasps as you sink down on him, clamping those boorish hands onto your waist.

You don’t even whine, not even as you start to rock, though his breathing gallops beneath you. Guy looks two seconds from nutting while you look years away from anything even loosely resembling an orgasm—your rhythm changing often as you try and fail to find a pace that suits you. “Christ—oh my god, ” the guy groans.

Max sucks his front teeth, tongue soiled with venom.

“Touch me,” you sigh, bouncing now. The curtain of your hair shivering down your back. 

This guy fucks like he’s never touched a woman before. At your request his knuckles only pale, fingers pinching you tighter. That’s not what she means, Max growls. Touch her fucking clit, you pin-dicked imbecile. Can’t fucking please a woman, should be fucking ashamed—

His pointless ranting is cut short by a sudden moan as the guy lifts you off him in time to come all over his stomach, chest rapid in its heaving, upper lip snarled in pleasure he doesn’t have the goddamn decency to return to you. For a long moment you hover above him, waiting, but his head just slumps back against the pillow, satisfied. 

Done.

He’s actually done. Motherfucker.

When you crawl off him to sit back against your headboard—arms crossing over your stomach self-consciously—Max sees red. Sees fire. Sees the roiling magma at the center of the earth where someone oughta make this fucker take a nice hot bath. 

He’d do this right. He’d fuck you properly, have you coming apart at the seams, go down on you until you beg for his cock and edge himself for as long as it takes to have you screaming his name. Can’t you see that? Can’t you feel him here, right now? Can’t you feel how bad he wants you? Can’t you imagine how much better he’d be? How good he’d make you feel?

Letting out an airy chuckle, the brute wipes the back of his hand across his sweaty brow and pushes himself to his feet. Redresses with a goddamn smirk on his face—not one of cruelty, but it might as well be. He thinks this is a job well done. Time to go home. 

A peck to your lips, then he’s rattling on about calling you, seeing you again, maybe Thursday? Friday? While you just sit there, blinking up at him in disbelief. “Sure,” you say, dazed and not quite thinking. “I’ll call you.”

Yeah, she’s not calling you, Max snarls, following the guy out of the room. Watching as the jackass plucks his jacket from the back of your barstool, steps over the mess of seltzer without a thought to clean it up for you, and waltzes right out the door. Not a care in the goddamn world. 

Though he hears you get up shortly after to use the bathroom, you don’t emerge from your bedroom and Max doesn’t disturb you. He spends that time in the kitchen, grabbing and grabbing and grabbing at the dish towel hung over the handle on the oven door, trying to pull it off. 

For at least an hour, his hand glides through the towel as if it’s water, not a flutter or sway in the fabric. Not even a brush, a compromise. It just hangs there, indignant. Mocking him. Deaddeaddeaddeaddead. Maybe it’s the Senior Sales Manager in him, the apex predator at the top of the food chain—but Max can do this all night. He’s not backing down, not letting a stupid fucking towel get the better of him. That lazy curtain of terrycloth will disintegrate before he waves the white flag. 

Beyond the picture frame windows that stare out into the barren, colorless street, the sun has shied to navy blue, letting out the round-mouthed moon, and you have not emerged from your bedroom for hours. He wants to check on you, ask if you’re okay. Frankly, baby, he’s getting a little worried. On the next sweep of his hand, the towel gives up the ghost; Max pulls it from the oven handle, marveling at the toothy fabric. He’s holding it, really holding it, all on his own. 

Thank fuck he’s not haunting the office. If any of those bull-brained fucks saw him now, as he kneels on your kitchen floor, he’d have to die all over again. Somehow. The technicals aren’t important—what’s important is that no one’s here to see him on his fucking knees, mopping up the spilled drink. Something like joy burbles in his chest when he reaches for the can and seizes it, placing it safely on your counter. The floor dry and shining again, clean. 

Max folds the towel carefully and returns it to the rack. 

As if on cue, the bedroom door croaks down the hall and you emerge. A huge t-shirt slumps from your frame; you’ve tied your hair up, put your glasses back on. Dressed down for the last dregs of night, rubbing the back of your hand in one eye, tired. 

You look so, so tired.

I’d rub your shoulders, baby, Max sighs quietly and though you won’t hear him, it still—after three whole months—doesn’t feel any less right to hope.

He steps out of your way as you round the corner into the kitchen with a yawn, hands clasped behind his back, cheek dimpled and eyes alight. Just like he wanted, just like he hoped, your eyes fall immediately to the floor where the can is missing, the spill wiped. Lashes flickering—the towel dark at the hem on its handle, the empty can on the counter. Your brows pinch low over your nose, curious. 

Pretty good for a dead guy, Max grins.

How sweet, that lifting flinch at your mouth’s sharp, pink corner. The soft hm you make in reply. It’s not much, but this strange, fluttery feeling in the dark cavity one might wrongly call his heart? It doesn’t feel half bad. 

Not bad at all.

He’s getting better at it. Not great, but the projections look good. Give him a little time, he’ll have this whole place dancing. Put on a big show, announce himself properly. 

In the meantime he practices when you’re not looking. Small stuff—he opens cupboards. Shuts them. Hits start on the dryer when you forget to press it yourself. Some days he wastes reaching for things and coming up empty, but now again his luck sparkles. Things move. Bend to his will. Isn’t long until he can hold it for a while—gathering the matter to run the vacuum around, or reorganize your pantry. A tidy house makes a tidy mind, baby. No good living in a dump. You’re so busy, always cracking around like a ping pong ball, and hell, it’s not like Max can leave this place, get a little air in his idle lungs.

He likes being useful to you. Likes that tiny smirk on your lips when you find something fixed or organized for you, even though you likely chalk it up to having forgotten that you did it yourself. Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need the credit. Isn’t that strange? How often he smiles at you? How perfect he finds the taste of your name.

Winter has arrived like a secret—whispered about for weeks and then suddenly let loose on the world. You come home from work in the evenings with icing sugar hair. Usually unbothered, far as Max can tell, but today you stagger in flushed from the cold and dark in the eyes.

Shit, baby, Max says when he sees you. Bad day?

Sniffling, you drop your coat right there in the hall, let it puddle over your shoes, and stalk off on a mission, barreling into the kitchen. The fridge door rips open, casting blue-white light over your face, and you must feel a hell of a lot worse than you feel because you don’t even blink at the contents inside. All the shelves wiped clean, the bottles arranged with the labels facing out, those wilted, bad greens deposited in the compost. You just reach in for the half-drunk bottle of Riesling that to Max smelled mostly like juice and swipe off the lid.

You chug on your way to the couch, leaving the fridge door open behind you.

Max closes it when you’ve gone, the TV already switched on in the living room, the lilting strings of the Desperate Housewives theme song swimming through the air. When he turns the corner he finds you wrapped in the throw blanket he now knows the texture of—supple and velvet, weighted and warm—with the wine bottle nestled in your lap. 

A silver tear hangs on your cheek. 

Really bad day, whatever it was. 

He wants to ask. Wants to pull you into his arms and pet back your hair. Wants to lick that sadness from your skin. 

Maybe this isn’t the show he’s imagined. Not much of a reveal—but you look so small right now, alone on your couch. Wine splashing in its bottle as you bring it to your lips, not bothering to wipe that tear away. If Max had a heart that beat, it’d stutter as he watches you. Helpless isn’t something he cares to feel.

No time like the present. Max sighs, scrubs a hand down his face as he ticks his jaw to one side, and nods. Alright, baby, he relents. Hang on.

On his way to the bathroom he cracks all the knuckles on his left hand, rolls his neck, swings his shoulders. Stretches himself long and limber like he’s about to run—but this is it. Curtain’s coming up. Time to find out if one glimpse of him sends you sprinting for the hills. Though he casts no reflection, Max stands before the mirror hanging over the sink and straightens his tie, corrects his lapels. Old habits, but it never hurts to look good.

Hand waggling, then, over the tissue box on the counter. He slaps himself hard, sending a delicious ripple of pain across his cheek. Come on, he begs. Don’t play hard to get.

The box lifts.

Here he comes: tissue box in hand, stalking tall and proud down your hallway with his chin up, shoulders back. Gets the momentum rolling, doesn’t hesitate, just waltzes in.

Your head snaps in his direction, eyes round and brows rising. To you it must look like the tissues float through the air to your side. Max steps back with butterflies jittering in his bones. 

Don’t be scared, he pleads. It’s just me.

With your head cocked to one side you consider this, though you’ve not heard his voice. Probably for the best. Came out a little softer than he meant it to, a little needy, and that’s just not becoming of a man like him. He has a reputation to uphold, even now. 

After a long, bludgeoning pause you click your tongue, swiping one white tissue from the box to turn over in your hand. Deliberating. Then your face cracks, possessed by a slithering smirk. Your gaze flickering so close to him it’s almost as if you’ve looked him in the eye. 

Deep in his chest, Max feels a strange throb—his stirring heart—as you say out loud, 

“I knew someone was there.”

dividers by @saradika-graphics - tag list & some mutuals!

@ak-vintage @thethirstwivesclub @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @hediondoamor-blog @harriedandharassed 

@burntheedges @jolapeno @la-eterna-enamorada29 @iknowisoundcrazy @guiltyasdave

@littlemisspascal @luxurychristmaspudding @tonysopranosrobe @evolnoomym @sweetpascal 

@spacelatinos4life @sweetpascal @biggetywitch @wannab-urs @helenanell

@pedgito @pastelpinkflowerlife @jessthebaker @rav3n-pascal22 @sixhours 

@noisynightmarepoetry @kyberblade @beezusvreeland @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack 

@pedrospatch @yopossum @toomanytookas @sawymredfox @galway-girlatwork

@ppascalrain @bbyanarchist @amanitacowboy @milla-frenchy @schnarfer

[arcanefox207]

Pedro Pascal as Max Phillips in Bloodsucking Bastards

I love Max 🤤

Another old gif set that I never posted to Tumblr. There are more I made from this movie that are too large to post here (all are on my Giphy tho, link below) so... please accept these for now. One day I'll revisit and remake these and more for Tumblr specs!

🧡 Please use and enjoy my gifs as you please! Reblogs appreciated🧡 Gif requests are open!

G I F N O T I F I C A T I O N S | G I P H Y

[absurdthirst]

Crossing Enemy Lines {Max Phillips x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: Insults, vampirism, mentions of blood drinking, oral sex (male and female receiving), rough sex, crude humor, Max being Max, angst.

Comments: Competitors and enemies? You are both not the other's favorite person but for some reason, hate sex is great sex.

Co-written @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| 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.

Max adjusts his tie as he strides into the conference. A new annual event for vampires who are in business. As the branch manager, he received his invitation to the conference last month and he’s been excited to dominate the scene. Especially after he heard you’d be coming too. Grabbing his badge, Max makes his way into the welcome event and that’s when he sees you. Red dress, professional yet just the right amount of tight to be sexy, and he smirks as he makes his way over to you. “Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart.” Max winks at you as he strides over to you. 

“Phillips.” You greet him coolly, “I’m surprised you’re here. I thought they had a separate conference for subpar regional branch managers who always fail to meet their quarterly quota.” You smirk, eying Max in his red tie and what he claims is a bespoke suit.

His smile falters for a split second before it’s back, more powerful than before and the sharpness in his eyes focuses on you. “I was surprised that you were invited too, sweetheart.” He reaches up and tightens the full windsor knot of his Hermès tie. The gold thumb ring and Rolex match the tie clasp, all coordinated with the cufflinks that wink at his wrists. Dramatic, but Max likes to dress for the job he wants, not the job he has. “I’m sure you’ll get those numbers up.” 

“Is that what your credit card companies ask for when you’re late on the minimum payment?” You retort, noticing what he is so desperate to show off about. “Oh honey, you’ll pay them off. You just need some more sales…oh wait…I’m not going to allow you to encroach on my clients. You’ll just have to tell those credit cards you can’t pay for those fancy cufflinks.” You click your tongue, reaching out to adjust his tie to just a hair off of being perfect.

Max hisses slightly, annoyed that you had messed with the lines of his tie. “Is that what you believe?” He bats your hand away, lifting a brow as he fixes the tie again and reaches out to flick his finger under your ear lobe. “The Moissanite is nice, but it doesn’t have the sparkle of a real diamond.” He chuckles. “I understand though. If I lost the Phalicite contract to another firm, I wouldn’t be splurging either. Oh right….I was that firm.” He boasts quietly. “What was it they said? She just couldn’t get it done?” He tuts, giving you a disappointed look before he gives a small shrug. “They are happy now.”

You bite down the growl that tries to escape from his jab. It pained you to lose that contract and you shake your head, letting out an unamused chuckle. “You might’ve won the battle, big shot, but I will win the war.” You pat his chest, “now it’s time to network big boy. May the best woman win.” You wink, striding off to meet the CEO of that company you’ve been trying to close for months.

Max watches you walk away, his eyes firmly glued to your ass. You are a pain in the ass, but you have a fantastic one, so he lets you get away with more than someone else could. Deciding that it’s war, he plasters on his most charming persona and starts working the room, eager to one up you on connections and leads for new business. You are competition and he loves a challenge.

By the time you’re done charming the hell out of most of the big wigs in the room, a lot of them spent far too long eying your cleavage. You lean against the bar, desperate for a drink. Thank God you can still get drunk from alcohol. Even if it takes more, you still get the effects. You gesture for the bartender to come over and order yourself a gin martini. “Two olives.” You add and the bartender gives you an odd look but goes ahead to pour your drink. When you have the drink, you take a much needed sip until his voice invades your ears again. 

“Olives? What you gonna do? Eat them?” Max snorts, gesturing for the bartender to come over. He orders a whiskey on the rocks and you turn to look at him. 

“I like the aesthetic.” You explain with a brief shrug.

“Aesthetic.” Max scoffs and shakes his head. “Why pretend to be human when we are so much better?” He asks, tapping his finger on the bar as he waits for his drink. “Name one thing that a human is better at, I’ll wait.”

“Sex.” You answer Max and he chuckles, thinking you’re joking. 

“Seriously? Why the fuck would you think that? They have to breathe, they need breaks. They can’t keep going all night long.” 

You snort, “exactly. Humans have enthusiasm. They have passion. It’s not perfect, it can be sloppy, but any human lover I’ve had has been one hundred percent into fucking me. Vampires are cold, emotionless. It’s just an act, physical pleasure. There’s no emotion behind it, not even lust really. We are heartless machines and that - the lack of compassion - makes us great in sales and boring in bed.”

Max snorts, sending you a pitying look. “Just because you choose bad lovers doesn’t mean that vampires as a whole are bad in bed.” Smirking he points at himself. “Take me for example, by the time I’m done, you will be as exhausted as a vampire can get, begging for a break from the orgasms and pleasure. Humans don’t stand a chance.” He boasts.

You roll your eyes after taking a sip of your drink. “Sure Phillips. Is that what they tell you? After you buy them the Louis Vuitton purse you can’t afford?” You snort, “I highly doubt you have someone begging for a break. Maybe a break from you, not your cock.”

Max is cocky, maybe a little too much sometimes but he knows how to fuck. He ignores the little insult towards his finances, he’s well aware of his bank balance and smirks as he leans in. “Only one way to find out, sweet cheeks.” He challenges. “I could give you testimonies from past lovers, or I could just let you experience Maxie boy for yourself.”

You roll your eyes, “you called my pussy the arctic circle and said that any man who dares to venture into it would surely freeze to death. So, you got some mittens?” You smirk, deciding to mess with him. “Or perhaps you can borrow some fuzzy socks from one of your pals over there.” You gesture to the group of vampires who are just like Max: egotistical and beyond cocky. You lean closer to Max, grabbing his tie to bring him closer and you brush your lips against his ear, “or you can go fuck yourself.” You smirk, leaning back to grab your drink, you down it and order another one from the bartender.

Max grunts, unable to believe that you just made his cock twitch with the breathless way you had told him to go fuck himself. He’s always like ballsy women and despite the professional rivalry, you are just his type. “If you can’t handle the idea of having a real man fuck you, that’s all you have to say, sweetheart.” Max coos, reaching out and sliding his index finger down your arm. “Stick with the blood bags who can’t bury their face in the Arctic circle until it’s hotter than a furnace without coming up for air. No skin off my teeth.”

You raise an eyebrow as he orders another whiskey. You glance around the bush room, the endless chatter almost melding into one noise. “I want to know something.” You announce after the bartender sets your drinks down. 

“Shoot.” Max says before sipping his double whiskey. 

“Why do you want to fuck me? I thought we hated each other?” You lean against the bar, showing him more of your cleavage. 

Max snorts, “hate fucking can be the best sex ever.” He admits with a shrug and your heart sinks a little that he actually does hate you so much despite you just doing your job. 

Yes, you’ve goaded him but to hear it confirmed, it takes you back for a moment. “Here’s a proposal-” 

Max interrupts you, “oh I didn’t say marriage-” 

You roll your eyes again, “an offer.” You amend and he hums, “if you still want to fuck me by the end of this event, come to my room…1012. If you still want to fuck me, you can come to mine and I want you to spend the entire night making me cum. If you can’t do that, don’t come. If you don’t want that, I understand. Now, there’s the CEO for HP. I think we have a deal in the works. Thanks for the drinks, Phillips.” You wink and stride off, leaving him with the tab.

It’s fucking hard to concentrate on business for the rest of the night. To socialize and pretend he’s not discreetly checking his Rolex and glancing around the ball room to see where you are in proximity to him. Even the cute little redheaded human who flirts with him doesn’t capture his interest, and he always likes the taste of redheads - very mellow. The idea of fucking the attitude and sarcasm out of you is almost as intoxicating at the four other whiskeys he drinks. Another plus of being the undead is that he doesn’t have to worry about alcohol affecting his performance in bed. When the clock strikes midnight, the official ending time for the event, Max looks around to see that you’ve disappeared. Making him smirk as he tosses back the rest of his whiskey and make his apologies before he leaves, foregoing the elevator and speeding up the stairs to the tenth floor. Pausing outside of room 1012 to adjust his hair and straighten his tie before he knocks.

You check your hair in the mirror, freaking out a little despite the drinks you’ve had. It’s hard to believe that Max Phillips is about to fuck you but you don’t try to think too much about what happens tomorrow morning when you open the door to Max Phillips, naked and waiting for his reaction. There was no point staying dressed. This saves time and as a manager, you’re all about time management. “You ready?” You ask him, chuckling at the dumbstruck look on his face.

“Jesus sweetheart.” Max manages after he stops staring. He sweeps into the room, “if you were that eager, we should have done this a long time ago.” He reaches down and unbuttons the jacket of his suit and shrugs it off to drape over a chair. He smirks and grabs your waist to step close to you. “Now, do I make you scream my name on my cock or my tongue first?”

“Eager? You wish, Phillips. I’m just efficient. Take your clothes off too. Wanna see if your ego is backed up by what you’re packing.” You reach for his tie, pulling him closer so you can press your lips to his while his hands dig into your waist.

His cock twitches, already hardening just at the sight of you and he knows he won’t disappoint you size wise. His tongue slides into your mouth and he groans when you bite it before soothing it slightly. “Dirty girl.” He hisses, smirking happily when one hand slides up to squeeze your breast harshly and pinch your nipple, pulling down on it. “You want a striptease and denied me the same show.”

“I didn’t say I wanted a striptease, Phillips.” You chuckle, working on pulling off that ridiculously expensive tie. “I just wanted to surprise you.” You admit, moaning when he kisses along your neck while you work on unbuttoning his shirt.

“I was surprised.” Max pants, pinching your nipple again and biting down on your shoulder as he slides his hand down to grab your ass. His cock is tenting his suit trousers and he pushes it up against your hip. “Very happily surprised. You’d get a shit ton more sales if you just worked naked.”

You chuckle dryly, “I want to get sales based on my skills, not my tits. Otherwise I’d be like those girls from Chimtech. Just sleeping their way up the ladder. I’m not like that.” You tell him truthfully, reaching down to undo his cufflinks, tossing them onto the coffee table with accuracy, and you push his shirt off of his shoulders.

Max knows that. You are one of the few that he’s hadn’t seen at any of the clubs or honorable mentions at the orgies. It was one of the things that had caught his attention with you. He unbuttons his trousers and grins at you. “Ready?”

You roll your eyes and step away from him to sit on the bed, giving him an expectant look as he pulls down the zipper, opening his pants and shoving them down along with his designer boxers. You swallow harshly at the sight of his hard cock, thick and fucking gorgeous. No wonder he’s such a cocky motherfucker. “Fuck me.” You blurt out, surprised by the monster he has in his pants.

Max’s brow twitches and he sends you a cocky smirk. “Oh I’m going to sweetheart.” He promises as he kicks his pants off and bends down to peel his socks off to fling aside. His cock bobs heavily and he stands straight and wraps his hand around it to stroke. “Spread your legs, baby. I want to see the Arctic circle before I visit.”

You roll your eyes against his words, “you’re an asshole.” Yet you follow his order, shifting to sit back against the pillows and you slowly, with a smirk, spread your legs to display your cunt to his hungry gaze. You tease, caressing your thighs, “you gonna keep me waiting, Phillips?”

“Fuck, you have a pretty cunt.” Max groans, squeezing himself lightly before he lets go. “Bet you taste good.” His mouth waters at the idea and his fangs start to descend before he catches himself. He knows he wouldn’t want fangs against his cock so he wouldn’t do that to a lover. He stalks over to the bed and pushes you back before he drops to his knees, smirking and winking at you before he dives in. 

You gasp when his tongue slides between your folds and you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Oh you son of a bitch.” You hiss when he flicks his tongue expertly over your clit. You can’t believe how good he is already. He has already worked you up more than most lovers can during an entire night and the bastard has done it within thirty seconds.

Max chuckles into your cunt but he doesn’t stop. He eats you voraciously. Like you are the best goddamn thing that he’s ever tasted and if he pulls away your cunt would disappear. There’s nothing polite about it. No gentle licks or soulless sucks on your clit. It’s sloppy, messy and fucking pure Heaven for him. Loving the sounds you make while he repeatedly curls his tongue up inside your walls, shakes his head so his squashed nose stimulates your clit. He loves not having to breathe to eat a woman out, loves that his jaw doesn’t ache or get tired. He could do it all night if he needed to, even as his cock leaks onto his thighs as he wears your legs as a scarf.

You can’t even speak, your mouth falling open and fangs threatening to poke through as Max rocks your world. Your thighs press against his cheeks, suffocating him and you would’ve killed a human by now but Max isn’t human and he doesn’t need to breathe. His tongue is curled so deep and combined with that aquiline nose, you are close to your orgasm. “Oh fuck!” You squeal when you squeeze your tits, the added stimulation sending you over the edge and you curse Max for being so fucking good at that.

Max growls into you, licking and sucking up your release and working you through the orgasm before his tongue turns softer. Gently fluttering against your clit before he kisses it and gives you a self-satisfied smirk. “That was one, sweetheart.” He coos. “Ready for another or do you want to experience the ‘main event’?”

You can’t even offer him a smart retort as you recover from the way his tongue made you cum harder than you have in years. “Shit Max. The amount of bullshit that comes out of your mouth and yet it can do that. Fuck. I- main event? You are done already?” You tease, reaching down to rub your over sensitive clit.

Max snorts, aware that you are goading him but he’s going to make you eat your words. Smirking, he uses his inhuman strength to easily flip you into your stomach and yanks your hips up. Burying his face back into your cunt from behind. 

Your cry echoes off of the wall and you nearly rip the sheets as your fingers curl into them while Max’s tongue slides back into your sensitive cunt. “Oh fuck baby.” You gasp out, falling forward onto your forearms and arching your back as his nose presses against your puckered hole. You whimper when his fingers slide under you to rub your clit. “Max. Oh God, right there. Fuck. Yes. There.” You moan when his fingers curl and he finds that spot that makes your thighs shake. “That - that’s it baby. That’s it. Right there.” You whine until it turns into a loud moan as you cum for the second time, gushing over his tongue and chin.

He hums, keeping his tongue and fingers moving as your hips rock back in his face. He loves that you are chasing your pleasure and aren’t shy about giving orders. Max might be the boss, a powerhouse at work; but he doesn’t mind taking direction when it means that he will make you scream out his name. Something that will happen before tonight is over. When your thighs stop shaking, Max chuckles and slides his tongue up to circle the other little hole that has captured his attention with all its fluttering and begging for attention.

You gasp when his tongue presses against your puckered hole. “Fuck Max.” You rasp, voice growing hoarse from the moans that have rattled the room. “Get inside of me. Now.” You demand, reaching behind you to tug on his hair, now messy and out of its usual style.

He flicks his tongue against your hole one last time before he moves over and bites your cheek playfully. “What hole do you want me in first?” He teases, sliding his fingers up and down between both. “I think I want the Arctic circle first.” The slap of his hand against your ass is harsh in the room and he chuckles when you moan.

You can’t even bring yourself to roll your eyes as he grips his cock and teases your clit with the head. “Is this how long you take to close all your sales, Phillips?” You taunt, grinding back against him. When he just chuckles and notches his cock at your entrance, pushing into you in one thrust, your clever remark is long forgotten as his cock pushes into you and stretches you out.

“Fuuuuuck.” Max hisses, slapping your ass again as he circles his hips and grinds into you. You feel incredible and he would stay right here for an hour, just feeling your walls pulse around him but then you would complain. Instead, he wrap his arm around your sternum and drags you up before he drops his hips and starts fucking you like a madman.

You pant, gripping his forearm and you don't pull it away as you let him choke you. It's a good thing you don't need to breathe. "Fuck baby. It's-" You moan, leaning back against him as he hammers into you. His hips hitting your ass as he fucks you hard and fast.

Max hums, loving how you are taking his cock. “It’s what? Wonderful? The best you’ve ever had?” He drags his nose up your neck, pressing where he would have felt your pulse if you had one but there is nothing. “I know. I know it’s good baby, this pussy feels amazing. Taking me like this. Letting me fuck you hard…and now even harder.” He ramps up his thrusts to a pace that would kill a human without breaking a sweat or panting. 

The bed squeaks beneath you due to the sheer force of Max's thrusts and he takes your useless breath away. "O-o-h-m-y-G-o-d." You sound out each syllable as he fucks you harder than anyone you've ever had. Your pussy feels like it's being pounded in your guts and you can only let him use your cunt like this. "Maaaax!" You wail as he hammers against something magnificent inside of you.

“There it is.” He hisses, grinning into your neck and nipping your skin playfully. “That’s what I want to hear. Except - louder sweetheart. Gotta let the front desk know who’s fucking you.” The hand not pinning you to him gropes your breast and then slides down to slap your clit. 

His fingers hitting your clit makes you nearly fold over but his grip on your throat keeps you upright. Max has all the control right now but you aren’t mad about it. You kind of love it, the lack of decisions so unlike your work life. This is nothing but pleasure and you love it. “Oh fuck.” You gasp, turning your head as much as you can to try to find his lips.

Max knows what you want and he doesn’t deny you. His cock continues to shred up into your throbbing cunt with devastating accuracy against your g-spot and he slides his tongue into your mouth. Kissing you roughly while the quick slaps of his hips against your ass fill the room. Grinning against your lips when he slaps your pussy again.

You moan into his mouth, unable to help yourself, and when Max grins against your lips, you cry out and clamp down on his cock. Hard. Gripping him in a vice as your thighs shake and your cum soaks his cock. It’s the most violent orgasm you’ve ever had wrack your body and it’s caused by the man you hate.

Max groans out your name, loving how you are soaking him and the bed beneath you. The way you squeeze his cock has him caught up in your walls where he can barely move, grinding up into you while he seeks his own pleasure. Giving a rough half dozen thrusts before he groans again, filling you with a hot flood of his useless seed.

You pant against his mouth, just breathing him in as he rocks into you, pushing his cum out of you onto the sheet below. “Fuck.” You sigh in bliss, just letting the feelings move through your system as Max kisses your neck. “That was - I hate to admit it but it was good.”

Chuckling as he takes both of you down to the bed to lay down, he’s feeling smug as fuck at your fucked out posture. “Good.” He hums, twitching inside you before he pulls out and shuffles so he can watch your cunt drip his cum. “Fuck, I should take a picture.” He jokes, not serious in the least. Even as a vampire, he has some morality. 

You snort, knowing he wouldn’t do it, but you look at him. “So you could show it off to all your work buddies? How you fucked your ice queen rival?” You chuckle dryly, reaching down to push two fingers inside, scooping some of his cum out of your cunt and you shove those fingers in your mouth to taste Max’s cum combined with yours.

Max groans and he watches your tongue flutter around your fingers as you sucks them clean. He grins and his own finger dips into your dripping hole for a taste of his own. “Was thinking more to jerk off to later on.” He winks and licks his finger. “Fuck, you do taste good. Is it the blood you drink?”

You smile, “yeah. I only drink from the rich.” You admit and wink at him, letting him know you’re joking. “I think someone told me once that our taste carries over from when we were human.” You reveal, “so I tasted that good before.” You smirk and nudge him with your foot which he grabs. “So what is this? Are we - ?” You bite your lip. “Fucking?” Max provides and you nod. “Who would’ve thought it? Did you, um, did you enjoy it?” You ask, offering a rare moment of vulnerability.

Max is greedy, sliding his hand up your leg and thigh. “Mhm.” He hums, smiling as he touches you like he’s never been allowed to before. “Dick didn’t freeze off.” He teases playfully. “Definitely not the Arctic circle, it’s warm, tight, fucking gooood.” He reveals honestly before he winks. “Ready to go again?” He asks, waggling his brows. “Did promise to fuck you all night after all.”

You chuckle, moving fast to straddle him, reaching down to grip his still hard cock and you sink down onto it, your combined cum pushed out as you grip his shoulders. “It’s my turn to fuck you Phillips.” You smirk, clenching around him.

“Fucccccckkkk.” Max’s eyes roll back from how quickly you sit on his cock and his fangs do spring down and make him look like the predator he is. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips, right above the thighs and he bucks his hips up. “Fuck me. Ride my cock. Wanna see your tits bounce in my face.”

You reach out to caress one of his fangs with your finger before you cup his cheeks, working your hips to start bouncing on his cock. You shift, tangling your fingers in his stupidly thick hair and your tits bounce in his face as you ride his cock hard and fast.

He’s in fucking Heaven. Keeping his fangs away from your flesh, he captures a nipple to suck on while you ride him. Groaning into your tits and lavishing them with attention while his cock twitches every time you yank on his hair. Humans never do it hard enough and most vampires try to yank it out. Your pressure on his scalp is perfect. “Fuck.”

"You're such a dick but your cock is so good." You compliment him and insult him at the same time. "Fuck Max." You pant, grinding your hips to push his cock deeper and you are grateful your thighs won't ache as you rock on his cock like he's a prize stallion.

“Ride it.” Max growls, grinning at the fight you put up but your cunt is soaking wet around him. “That pretty little cunt likes my big dick inside it, doesn’t she?” He coos, thrusting his hips up. “Wanna ride it all the time now, dontcha?”

You want to roll your eyes at his words, cringeworthy if you were sober and not currently sitting on his cock. You slam down onto his cock, "you wanna be inside of this pussy all the time now, dontcha?" You taunt back, tugging on his hair to tilt his head back so you can lick along his neck.

There’s a distinct, needy whine that pours out of Max’s throat while you clench around him and lick his skin. “Shit yes.” He chokes out. “Work while I’m inside you. Have you sit on my cock while we- we fucking make money.” His fingers dig into your hips even harder and he lifts you up and pulls you back down on his cock just as harshly as you had, groaning again.

You throw your head back when he starts to move you on his cock but you won’t let him have control. You push him backwards, grabbing his forearms and pushing them over his head. You are stretched over his body, tits swaying in his face as you start to ride his cock, grinding back onto it while you restrain him as much as you’re physically able to.

“Fuck.” Max grinds his teeth together, getting your unspoken warning to stay still and he tries to comply. It’s so hard when you feel so fucking good around him. He had never imagined it would feel this good. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. If my heart pumped you would stop it.” He grunts out.

You giggle breathlessly at his compliment, looking down at those now black eyes, full of lust for you. “Thanks Maxie. Your cock isn’t too bad.” You tease and he makes you cry out when he thrusts up into you. “Oh fuck!” You moan,  especially when he takes your nipple into his mouth again. “Again. You’re gonna make me cum.” You plead, bucking back onto his cock.

Now it’s not a fight for control, it’s just a race for pleasure. Both of you know it’s going to come but you’re greedy. Max obeys your order and bucks up into you, bouncing you on his cock and he nearly chokes with how hard you squeeze him when he hits that magical spot inside your silken walls. “Shit baby, cum. Cum all over my cock. Wanna feel it- wanna-“ he breaks off with a loud moan when you squeeze him again, so close to cumming himself.

Your mouth falls open and nothing comes out as two more thrusts of his hips has you falling over the edge, clamping down on his cock in a way that you are squealing his name when the noise finally breaks free. Soaking him with your cum as you still above him, shaking from the intensity of the orgasm.

Max whimpers, eyes closing and his arms wrap around you. Holding you while he rocks up into you frantically. Chanting your name over and over again for another three thrust before he is pushing deep, wanting to crawl inside you while he fills you up again. Loving the perk of being a vampire and unable to get STDs or cause pregnancy.

“Fuck.” You huff shakily, shifting to look down at him and admire his handsome face, fangs pointing out, and you lean down to lick one playfully with your tongue. “Shit. That was good, baby.” You caress his cheeks and down to his neck and then his chest.

Max smirks, proud of the fact that you are saying that it was good. His strokes your back, your skin still smooth and cool, unable to sweat since you are technically dead. “Still think sex with a vampire isn’t better than a human?” He asks, brow raised and curious as to your answer.

You bite your lip, hating to say no but you can’t deny it when he has made you cum so hard. “Maybe you’re starting to change my mind.” You tease and Max growls, turning you over and playfully biting down on your neck. “So…we, uh, this is it? Just one night.” You say after a moment.

Pulling away so he can look down at you, Max makes a split second decision, reading your tone and the searching look on your face. “Doesn’t have to be.” He hums, running his tongue over his teeth and his fangs retract. “We are both busy, real go-getters.” He muses. “It would make sense that we continue this. Work out our needs, frustrations on each other. Use this great sex we have.” He doesn’t say that he wants it again, but he does. He really does. Fuck, he wants to stay the night. 

You hum, thinking about it for a moment. “I suppose it makes sense to get our…frustrations with each other out in a healthier way. Keep business as business but enjoy our pleasures too.” You sit back to get off of him, flopping down on the bed beside him. “You can’t tell anyone about it though.”

He frowns for a second, not liking the idea of secrecy but then he decides to let that go. “Of course.” He manages a smirk and a shrug by the time you turn your head to look over at him. “Lips are sealed. I’m not going to tell that the Arctic circle is conquerable.” He jokes, winking at you before he sits up. He needs to go back to his own room before he argues about your condition to continue fucking.

You roll your eyes at him before you sit up, glad you don’t ache like you would when you were human. Max probably would’ve killed you with how hard he fucked you. “I guess I’ll see you around, Phillips.” You shuffle off of the bed, anxious for a shower to clean up and he gets up, grabbing his clothes to start dressing. “I’m going to shower. Let yourself out.” You tell him and he nods, watching you make your way to the bathroom door. “Oh by the way, I like that tie.” You inform him with a wink and saunter into the bathroom, leaving him to it.

****

Max smirks when he knocks on your door before just pushing it open. You’ve been sleeping together for nearly three months and he’s just made himself at home with walking into your house when he gets off work. You hold up a finger, still halfway dressed when he knows you would normally be naked, your phone still to your ear. “Jerry, I promise you the projections are wrong.” You tell him, making Max’s smile widen even more. Your stocking are still on and you obviously was interrupted from your task of getting ready for him to fuck you by the business call. Max strides over to you and caresses your hip while you narrow your eyes at him, obviously wanting him to be quiet while you work. Winking, he lowers himself to his knees and shreds the underwear under your garter belt so he can get to your pussy. 

You gasp, “fucking hell” and Jerry asks you what’s wrong. “Nothing Jerry. Nothing. Ma- My tea was hot.” You lie even as Max’s tongue carves a path through your folds. “Fuck you.” You mouth down at Max whose dark eyes are watching you with amusement. You won’t let him win, tangling your fingers in his hair, you force yourself to concentrate on the call, listening to Jerry rattle off numbers. “Jer-Jerry. That’s not right. It’s one hun- oh.” You moan when Max sucks on your clit. Flustered, you clear your throat, “sorry about that Jerry. Tea was delicious.” You manage to lie, continuing to rattle off the numbers despite Max driving you to distraction with his tongue.

Huffing quietly in amusement, Max slides his hands up to massage your ass while he licks into you. Noticing that you have no issue pulling your leg up onto his shoulder while you sag against the counter. Smirking to himself while his tongue licks into you and he shakes his head to brush his nose against your cunt. Fuck, it’s fun to watch your control pull thin, to hear you try to keep your composure while he is unraveling you. 

Max’s tongue slides deep but it’s not enough. You lift your leg onto the counter, giving him more access than before, and he shifts to sit on the floor, wrapping his arm around your leg to keep you stable while his tongue slides deeper. “Fuck.” You hiss, head tilted back to rest against your fridge that’s full of blood bags. 

“What?” Jerry asks and you can barely think with the way Max is destroying your composure. 

“I’m sorry Jerry. I’m gonna have to - to call you back. You have the numbers. Figure it out.” You growl and hang up, tossing your phone on the counter and you reach down to tangle your fingers in Max’s hair, rocking onto his face. “You’re a bastard.” You tell him with a groan.

His laugh is louder now, his hand slapping your ass loud enough that ‘ole Jerry would have heard it if he had still been on the phone. Instead of pulling away and making a snarky comment, he decides he’ll make you cum first. Hearing you cry out is rapidly becoming his favorite fucking thing in the world, better than landing a huge sales contract. Better than beating you. His tongue flicks over your clit and he moves one hand to push three fingers into your cunt while he sucks your clit into his mouth to suck harshly, as if he’s trying to drink from your cunt. 

You decide to give in to the pleasure and not be mad, especially when he is fingering you exactly how you like it. You moan and rock down onto his digits and his face, moaning wantonly at the way he sucks on your clit. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum.” You tell him, “Max. Oh shit. Max. Max. Ma-” You choke, knee buckling as you clamp down around his fingers and soak them with your cum.

Holding you up, Max groans as he works you through it. Loving how his fingers squelch your cum slides down his knuckles. Sucking on your clit until you are whimpering his name and your stomach heaves with overstimulation. His cock is fucking hard as rock but he just kisses your curls and smirks up at you as he pulls is soaked fingers out of your cunt. “Good job, baby.” He coos playfully. “I don’t think he knew you were having your cunt devoured.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You say breathlessly, reaching down to drag him up onto his feet and when he’s standing, you press your lips to his. “Fuck me.” You order, reaching down to squeeze his cock through his pants before you work them open, managing to wrap your fingers around Max’s throbbing cock. “Someone got turned on eating pussy.” You tease, kissing his chin.

Rolling his eyes, he huffs at you. “Duh.” He is throbbing and he knows that just a few strokes of your hand would have him cumming but he wants to fill up that fucking perfect cunt of yours. “Up,” He orders, grabbing your hips and lifting you easily onto the counter with his inhumane strength. Your legs spread easily for him and he loves how soaked you are for him. “Should bend you over and make your ass bounce.” He grumbles, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours while he lines up and sinks inside you. 

You moan into his mouth, gripping his shoulders before you shove your hands under his shirt to caress his back, admiring the strength of his muscles. “You like kissing me too much.” You murmur, crossing the invisible line that neither of you discuss the other’s preferences too much. It makes it more than what it is. Just sex. Max nips your chin, making you moan, and you shift so you are hanging on the edge of the counter, allowing him deeper inside of you.

He does like kissing you. As much as he can. Too much if he were to sit down and think about it, so he doesn’t let himself. You were very clear where he stands and he isn’t fucking this up. Instead, his tongue slides against yours when he presses his lips to yours again, starting a rhythm that has his cock punching deep into your walls, desperate to feel you after hours spent away.

You let him kiss you, especially when his tongue traces your teeth like it always does. It must be his thing. You moan into his mouth, letting his fuck you hard and fast, his hips slamming against your thighs as you shuffle ever so close to falling off of the counter and Max makes you squeal when he grabs your thighs, lifting you up and fucking you on his cock. You squeal and wrap your arms around his neck to stop yourself from falling backwards as he moves your body. “Oh fuck Max.” You moan at this sheer display of his strength.

It’s easy to do, to lift you up as if you weigh nothing. You could do the same to him if you wanted to. It’s the symbolism for him, the way that he can have you any way that he wants to. It’s thrilling. The fact that you let him do whatever he wants and eagerly takes the positions, the pace. You bounce on his cock as he moves you up and down, “fuck, look at that.” He groans, looking between you and watching you take him. Seeing the way your lips stretch around him. “Tell me that’s good, baby. Tell me how much you love my cock.” 

You watch him watching his cock disappear inside of you and you moan his name, “it’s so good baby. So good. I love your cock. Love it. Always - always so good. Making me cum every damn day. I love it. Want you to - to fuck me all day every day if we - if we didn’t have to work.”

“Fuck.” Max hisses, closing his eyes and his fangs spring down at the mere thought. “After- after I get this new job I’ll fuck you every- every day.” He huffs, imagining it clearly. You sitting on his cock while he signs contracts, answering his phone with your pants of pleasure in his ear. He would lay you out on his fucking desk like a feast everyday. 

In a turn of events, your rival businesses are merging and Max is getting a senior position in a separate department to yours. No longer enemies, you and Max are not competing for sales. It’s strange to not be battling him for contracts. Especially when the merger will mean he will be in your building. “Yes. Yes. Every day. I want you to eat me for lunch.” You demand, kissing his neck as you rock down onto his cock, taking over the pace.

“Fuck yes.” Max whines, holding you in his arms and letting you fuck him. Your thighs squeezing him as you lift and lower yourself. “Best fucking lunch. Better than the interns.” He jokes, toes curling in his shoes as you squeeze him with your inner muscles. “Pour some blood on your pussy and pretend you're on the rag.” 

You roll your eyes at his lewd comment but you know that’s just how Max can be. “Fucking weirdo.” You tease, kissing his lips, “you’re such a dick but I- God, I don’t want to stop fucking you. It’s like you’ve got some kind of drug in your cum because I’m addicted to you.” You admit, scaring yourself honestly at how attached you are to him.

Max chuckles, taking over the pace again when you let him. Rocking up onto his toes to grind into you. “Caught me. Been feeding you cocaine laced cum.” He teases, feeling the same way. “Don’t worry baby, gonna - gonna fuck you for as long as you want.” He’s almost said something about doing more than just fucking, but he’s scared you would turn him down so he keeps quiet. 

His words send you over the edge, making you cry out as you clamp down on his cock, unable to stop yourself from climaxing as he promises to keep fucking you. He groans at how tight you grip him, keeping you upright as you shake. “Baby.” You gasp, “want - want you to cum down my throat. Let me - let me suck you off.”

He groans, knowing this is special. It’s rare that you don’t want him to cum in your pussy. Not that he minds. He talks a big game about blow jobs but he’s never once asked you for one. If you want to suck his cock, you will. It’s that simple in his mind. Nodding, he sets you down and watches as you wrap your hand around his length, kneeling down in front of him. “Fuck.” 

You waste no time in taking him into your mouth with a moan, loving the tangy taste of your own cum coating his cock as you take him down your throat. Another plus of being a vampire: no gag reflex. You look up at him as you take him deep down your throat, loving the way he's watching you.

“Look at you.” He coos, reaching down and stroking your jaw. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” His eyes roll back and he tilts his head back and moans your name when you press your tongue to the underside of his cock and swallow around the head. “Oh fuck.” He huffs, hips lurching forward to chase that feeling. “So good baby.”

You repeat that action, desperate for him to cum down your throat. You whimper around his cock, reaching down to roll his balls in your fingers, keeping your eyes on him as you watch him moan and groan as you swallow around his thick cock.

“Shiiiit.” Max hisses. “I’m gonna cum.” He warns you. “I’m gonna cum down that pretty little throat of yours. Fuck gonna fill you up, and-“ He tenses up, moaning as he does just that. Pumping spurt after spurt of his cum down your throat. 

You eagerly swallow every drop, closing your eyes at the salty taste that doesn’t have that tang that human cum has in it. You swallow until his balls relax under your touch and you pull off of him, cheekily opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to show him your empty mouth.

“Good girl.” Max lunges down, eager to taste the remnants of his cum from your mouth. Moaning into you while he kisses you. He’s fucked. He realizes it right at this moment. He wants you. Not for some hate fucking, he’s never hated you. But he wants more that just sex.

You kiss him back, letting him pull you into his arms and you realize how dangerous this is getting. It’s no longer hate fucking, it’s turning into something else and you don’t know how to stop it. You do know that Max would break your heart once he gets bored. “I, um, I still need to call Jerry if you - you can take a blood bag to go if you want.” You step away from him, wishing you had a robe or something to cover you, cover your emotions.

Max’s silent heart clenches and he frowns slightly before he nods. “Sure.” He covers up the hurt with a chuckle and sends you a small smirk. “I have to go move into my fancy new office anyway, sweetheart.” He tucks himself away and zips up before straightening his clothes. He can’t help but feel like you are shoving him out the door. “Until next time.”

You watch him go, leaning against the counter and covering your face with your hands. Fuck, when did it happen? When did you fall in love with Max Phillips?

****

Once Max is settled into his office, you must admit you’ve been avoiding him. Deciding that he doesn’t feel the same and you’d only embarrass yourself by asking him such a question, you avoid Max at all costs. Having your assistant screen calls and meetings for the man, you succeed in avoiding him until you hear his name mentioned in the break room. “Yes. He invited me into his office and we…” The intern giggles as she looks around, not seeing you behind the door, “we had sex on his desk.” Your heart sinks, breaking in two at the news that Max has already moved on. You swallow harshly, unshed tears stinging in your eyes as you make your way back to your office.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Phillips. She is in a meeting with orders to not be disturbed.” Max sighs as he listens to your secretary yet again tell him that you aren’t available. The same thing he’s heard from her every day for nearly two weeks. He’s gone from having sex with you every since day to not seeing you and he hates it. 

“Yeah, thanks.” He mutters into the phone. “Tell her to call me when she’s done.” He drops the phone into the cradle and sighs. He knows you won’t call him, you haven’t despite the messages to your secretary and the texts to your personal phone. He’s getting desperate to see you and figure out what the hell is going on.

You are working late, unavoidable considering the new contract you’re working on, but you curse your assistant leaving on time when your door opens and Max Phillips strides in unannounced. “Phillips.” You greet him coolly, not even looking up from your computer.

Max blinks at the acidity in your tone and it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask if you’re on your period but he knows that doesn’t happen anymore. Unable to deflect with humor like he usually would, he decides to be upfront. “What the hell is going on?” He demands. “We went from wanting to fuck everyday at lunch once we were in the same building to you ghosting me.”

You bite your lip, wanting to growl at him, but you just respond calmly. “Oh, sorry. I thought you had found a new pretty intern to fuck during lunch and I was no longer needed?” You frown, tilting your head at him.

His brow scrunches in confusion and he shakes his head. “What are you talking about? What intern?” He demands, leaning against the door jam. “Only person I’ve fucked is you and I haven’t been doing a lot of that lately.”

You huff, standing up from your desk, you walk around it to face Max. “Are you serious? I heard her earlier. She said she fucked you in her office and as I walked away she said - she said you traced her teeth with your tongue.” You choke, knowing that is something Max and only Max tends to do.

Now he’s pissed, that she’s lying and that you believe this person. “She must have heard that from someone else I’ve fucked before you.” He growls. “Because I’ve not stuck my dick in anyone but you.” He sees that you don’t believe him and scoffs. “Fucking convenient for you to hear this. If you wanted to stop fucking you don’t have to lie. I don’t fucking force anyone to have sex with me. I don’t need to.”

You shake your head, “it wasn’t - fucking hell. That’s the problem. I didn’t want to stop fucking you. You’re lying about fucking someone else and I shouldn’t be mad because I can’t - we can’t keep doing this. You’ve got me tied up in knots. I can’t focus and I- you need to leave before I change my mind and beg you to fuck me on my desk.”

Max stares at you for a moment in disbelief before he pushes off the door and slowly starts to clap. “Bravo.” He shakes his head, a sarcastic grin on his face. “Amazing, you almost had me. See, I knew it was stupid to fall in love with you, knew I was going to get burned eventually. Especially considering I’ve called you every single day and you’ve been the one rejecting me.” He huffs and drops the smile. “The arctic circle ain’t in your cunt, it’s your icy cold heart. Good luck on the next poor fucker.” He growls, turning on his heel to leave this fucking office and go get drunk somewhere.

“You’re a bastard.” You rush to follow him, lucky that no one is around to witness you as you grab Max and spin him around. “This wasn’t in the plan. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.” You rush out, eyes wide as you stare at him. Your heart would be beating out of your chest if you were human but all you can do is stare at him.

Max stares back at you, ready to lash out and deny it. “So if I love you and you love me, why would you think I’d fuck anyone but you?” He demands. “I don’t even know what intern you’re talking about. And I- Jesus, you’re the best lover I’ve ever had. Where could I go after you? No one could ever beat you.”

You swallow harshly at his words, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I just - I thought you hated me still. I thought it was just sex. I never - I thought you were just fucking me for a release because it’s - it’s the best sex I’ve ever had. No one compares. You are a pain in my ass, but baby, you are strong and smart, so fucking smart, and handsome and you’re funny - even if it’s in a college frat boy kind of way - I just never imagined you’d feel the same way.”

Max chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve never hated you, sweetheart.” He promises. “I just liked getting under your skin. I liked pissing you off. You’re sexy when you’re annoyed. Like pulling the braids of the girl I like on the playground.” He confesses with a small grin. He steps closer to you, more serious than he’s ever been. “I have not slept with anyone but you since the night we started. I haven’t even looked.”

You believe him, caressing his cheeks, “I love you, Max Phillips.” You whisper, smiling at the cocky bastard who used to make your life hell but now you can’t imagine being without him.

“I love you.” He promises, reaching up to brush his knuckles across your cheeks and he smirks. “Now that we know where we stand, can I fuck you?” He asks, lifting a brow. “I really, really miss being inside you.”

You giggle, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, “you want to fuck me in my fancy office, Mr. Phillips?” You tease, leaning in to nip his jaw and you are relieved that you are both on the same page.

“I do want to fuck you in your fancy office.” He smirks, his fangs sliding down and he looks behind you. “You have a drop cloth or a sheet of plastic?” He asks. “Might get a little messy.”

You chuckle, “I might have a bedsheet I snuck in just in case we happened to fuck in here.” You take Max’s hand and guide him into your office, letting go of his hand to get the sheet from your bottom desk drawer, laying it out on the sofa in your office.

Max smirks and starts stripping out of his suit while you adjust the sheet. Eager to touch you, his cock is already throbbing. “I’m going to fuck you so hard baby. The security desk is going to think you’re being staked.”

You playfully roll your eyes at his cocky words but you know he can make you squeal and scream. You finish adjusting the sheet and struggle to pull down the zipper of your dress as Max kicks off his shoes and shoves his pants and boxers down.  

“Too slow sweetheart.” Max tuts, taking over and dragging the zipper down and peeling the dress off of you in the blink of an eye. “Fuck, I love stripping you down. You should stay naked all the time.”

You sigh when Max kisses your neck and shoulder as you kick the dress aside, stepping out of your heels and you spin around to face Max. Pressing your lips to his, you press your chest to his and tangle your fingers in his hair. “Fuck me Max.” You plead, feeling his hard cock pressing into your hip.

“I’m going to.” He promises, happy that you are in his arms again. His tongue trails over your neck and he can’t help himself, sinking his teeth into your flesh while he grabs your ass and hauls you back towards the couch.

You look up at Max as he lays you down on the sofa and you caress his chest, over the space where his heart would be beating. “I love you.” You murmur, spreading your legs to accommodate him as you continue caressing his chest.

He hums, loving hearing you say that. “Love you too.” He groans, sliding his hand between the two of you so he can line up to push inside you. The head of his cock slips inside your cunt as he ducks down to take your nipple into his mouth.

You moan when he pushes into you, feeling like you’re finally home, where you should be. With him. “Max.” You moan, tangling your fingers in his hair as he bites down on your breast and he starts to rock his hips, pushing into you. It’s slow, unlike the always frantic pace, and you sigh in pleasure.

He’s never set a slow pace with you, knowing that he had to make sure you had the most pleasure he could offer within an hour or two. Now he takes his time, he’ll spend all night right here if he has to. Wanting to drag it out for as long as he can. Enjoying the slow drag of his cock in and out of your walls while he works his hip.

“Fuck. That feels good.” You moan, caressing his back as he rocks into you. You whimper when he hits something deep and slowly fucks you. No, he doesn’t fuck you. He makes love to you. “God, you feel so good. No one has ever felt like this.”

Max groans in agreement. He reaches for your hand and laces his fingers with yours. “Bite me.” He begs, wanting to feel your fangs in his flesh. You’ve never bitten him before but he thinks it’s hot to have you do it while he’s buried in your cunt.

You squeeze his hand and feel your fangs appear so you cup the back of his head, pulling him closer so you can sink your fangs into his flesh. There’s no blood but you moan at the sensation of his cock inside of you and your fangs in his neck. It’s incredible and you moan into his flesh as he rocks into you.

“Fuck.” Max groans loudly, cock twitching deep inside you but he doesn’t push harder or faster into you. Keeping his pace slow and steady, while he love the feeling of your fangs breaking through his skin. “Again baby, fuck, mark me as yours.”

You repeat the action, allowing yourself to dive into your instincts, your animalistic ways shining through as you bite him, marking him as yours. The marks will stay, a shimmering scar once they heal over - as soon as your fangs are removed - and you are close to cumming at the thought of Max being yours and only yours.

Max grunts, closing his eyes and smirking as he continues to rock into you. “Love you, so fucking much.” He groans out. “Perfect vampire for me, perfect woman, perfect little pussy.”

You lick over the marks after withdrawing your fangs. “I love you baby. So much. God, you are - you’re an asshole but you’re my asshole. I wouldn’t change you for all the sales in the world. Perfect for me.” You pant, getting closer and closer with every slow rock of his hips until finally, you fall over the edge and clamp down on his cock. Your orgasm is slow, seeming to spread to every inch of your body.

Max buries his fangs in your neck as you come apart for him. Your walls clamp down like a vice around him, soaking him in your release. He loves the way you cry his name, needy and loving. “Love you,” he pants, withdrawing his fangs and pressing his lips to yours when he starts to cum, filling you with his own release in agonizing pleasure.

You cling to him as he cums, filling you up and you’ve missed this so much, missed him so much. You peck his lips over and over as he rides out his orgasm and you caress his shoulders and back. “Love you.” You murmur, actually feeling tired. 

Max kisses your jaw when you tilt your head back. “Not as much as I love you.” 

You snort, “always in competition.” You love him and he loves you. Never, in a million years, would you have imagined that if you’d been asked four months ago but here you are. In love with a blood sucking bastard

[aurorawritestoescape]

ADDICTED || Max Phillips x f!reader || 3k

Summary: Max gives you everything you need but can you stop when the pleasure gets addictive?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamic, biting, blood drinking (not graphic), f/m oral, mind control (dub-con, then very enthusiastic), slapping, unprotected piv, heartbreak, themes of addiction, obsession. Reader has hair. Pics are for the mood only, reader has no physical description.

A/n: this is for @iamasaddie ‘s Kinky May challenge with a prompt daddy kink for Max Phillips. Thank you for hosting it, Aly😘 Thank you @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and holding my trembling hand♥️ it’s my first time writing Max and I’m very nervous. Hope you all will enjoy it!💖

dividers by @saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

You can’t get enough of him.

His fingers gripping your hair, his strong hips between your slicked up thighs, the burn his teeth leave behind, the pleasure his soft lips give you.

Yet most of all you can’t get enough of his voice.

It’s like the sweetest poison that seeps into your welcoming ear, tying you closer to him with every uttered sound. Making you addicted. Obsessed.

“You’re mine. All of you. Every drop, baby.”

“Yes, daddy,” you always agree with him. These are the rules of the game. You do what he says, he doesn’t leave you.

He gives you what you need. Purpose.

“You’re daddy’s hole. Nothing more. I’m here to fill you and feed on you. You don’t need anything else. Just daddy fucking his cum into you, load after load. While your blood satiates me. Drop after drop.”

“Yes, daddy…please, give it to me… want it…take it.”

You get so high on his voice telling you what to do, it’s euphoric. You’re always in a half trance. At work your mind is occupied by him; whenever you spend time with your family or friends, your thoughts are elsewhere. You don’t need them anymore. You are lost in him. In your mind you’re in bed, pressed by his heavy body. Limbs intervened, your sweaty skin flush against his as he’s claiming your body and soul.

It used to be easy. The first time you met at a club where Max tried to pick you up and succeeded. He was handsome, charming as hell, talkative, funny in an assholish way. Absolutely not your type, but you didn’t mind having fun. You two fucked in the bathroom and when he bit your neck and licked off the blood, you thought he was just kinky. The alcohol in your blood didn’t let you think straight. He made you come on his cock and you gave him your phone number.

Max came without a call, just appeared on your doorstep one night, and you let him in. You were cringing at your desire for some corporate suit, but he’d given it to you so good that night and you had never passed on a great fuck.

“I like you”, he said directly, lying on your sofa. He came right after work and told you that he was tired, at the same time exuding energy. You were staring at him, amused by his confidence. Max had an air about him like he owned the place and everything in it, including you.

“There’s something special about you,” he continued, pouting his lips in thought, “I don’t even need to command you. You’re so hungry. You do what I want all by yourself, baby.”

“Command me?”, you scuffed and snapped back, offended by his words, “Why don’t you go fuck yourself, baby”. Max was hot but a man would never be the boss of you, you thought.

He bucked his hips, getting more comfortable on your sofa, and shot you a smug smile that made you want to slap him. Before fucking him.

“Get on the sofa. All fours,” He told you, nodding at the spot next to him. His voice was the same, deep and gruff but somehow different. As if he grabbed your will and caged it in his big hand. Made it his will instead. And to your astonishment your body followed the order.

“Take off your clothes,” he said, sitting up, as your hands and knees were already planted firmly on the surface.

He got up and made you stand still while his hands were exploring your naked body — kneaded your breasts, twitched your nipples, glided over your back, slipped between your folds and swirled your throbbing clit. Your head was absolutely empty, your mind already occupied by only him.

“Beautiful,” he praised you, spreading your ass cheeks and admiring the view, “daddy’s gonna have so much fun with you.”

You bit your lip when he called himself that and then whimpered when he latched onto your pussy. He tasted your desire for him as his hot tongue slid between your folds and traced your crying hole. A whine escaped your parted lips when his mouth stopped caressing your cunt and he stood in front of you.

With widened eyes you watched him perch on the armrest of the sofa, spreading his thighs wide.

“You know what’s my favorite thing to do?” He asked, smirking at you.

You couldn’t say anything, so you were just blinking at him while a myriad of emotions were swirling inside your chest.

“Oh, you can’t answer, right. Baby though she’s in charge, huh?” Max chuckled and then leaned closer to you face, bringing his lips to your ear and whispered,

“Let’s see who’s in charge,” and added, “Come for daddy.”

You felt burning in your stomach, your core tightened, pussy started clamping around nothing, and you cried out as a hard orgasm began shaking your whole body, making your limbs tremble. He was palming himself, watching your face twist in pleasure, loud moans leaving your lips as the waves of ecstasy were lapping at your heated body. It was hard to stand still and his previous command was the only thing that kept you from collapsing on the sofa.

“Relax,” he told you and you plopped on the surface panting heavily, while aftershocks were still going through your body.

He stood up and you felt his thumb brush your cheekbone.

“Do you believe me now, sweetheart?” He asked with a head tilt, as his bulge was looming over your head.

You looked up at his smug face, smiled a little and replied,

“Yes, daddy. Please, do it again”.

Now when he’s in your bedroom, time stops. Life stops. As soon as he sits on the edge of your bed, you kneel between his thighs, your big eyes full of deep admiration, a short sheer nightie barely covering anything. He often buys you new lingerie. He enjoys spoiling you. Also blood is hard to wash off.

If he wants you to suck his cock, all he needs to do is nod at his crotch. But tonight he wants all of you.

“C’mere,” he tells you, patting his thigh with his big hand. In a second you’re sat on his lap, your naked pussy soaking his black suit pants.

“Nearly snapped someone’s neck at work today, incompetent idiot,” He grumbles in a low voice and asks, “How was your day, baby?”

You’re pouting your lips. Who cares? Fuck life. This is what you need. This is what makes you happy, ecstatic, euphoric.

“-was ok,” you mumble, as your stomach churns with impatience. Your gaze is set downcast while you’re fumbling with his crimson tie. He nuzzles your neck and takes a deep breath of your scent. A shudder goes through him from the way you smell and you slightly roll your hips, rubbing your needy pussy against his thigh.

“So impatient, baby. Do you remember how Daddy punished you for your impatience?” his cold palm wraps around your throat and tilts your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, where his favorite vein is fluttering like a little bird under his hungry gaze.

You won’t ever forget that punishment. You have been kneeling at the foot of your bed, watching him languidly play with his cock and balls. Your mouth was watering whenever a drop of precum slid down the curve of his fat tip. He has been edging you and himself for what felt like hours until he gave you the permission to suck his cock and you came just from having him in your mouth.

“Yes, I’m sorry, daddy. I’ll wait.”

“Good girl,” he says before his lips start sucking on your delicate skin, right over the artery. He licks the patch of skin there as his hand slithers under the neckline of your nightie and squeezes your breast.

“I’m gonna take a sip and you’re gonna be a good girl and play with Daddy’s cock, ‘k?

“Yes, please”.

You tilt your head even more, offering your blood to him as your left hand slides between your bodies. You find his belt buckle and undo it, stopping yourself from rushing. You don’t want daddy’s punishment tonight. You crave his reward.

You open his pants and moan as he breaks your skin with his fangs.

You got so used to the feeling, you don’t even notice the pain. The pain is like a threshold that you step over to get to the pleasure. A small price you pay each time for the immense ecstasy he’s going to give you.

As he starts gently sucking, you take out his cock which is already hard as steel and caress its velvety skin with your fingers. It twitches in your hand and Max growls.

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

You hastily spit in your palm and return your hand to his twitching length. You wrap your hand around it and begin pumping with a rhythm you know he loves.

You flutter your eyes shut, getting lost in the feeling, ready, so ready to give and get more.

You feel his precum on your hand, and without looking, you spread it over his soft skin.

Max’s lips smacking against your neck, his growling that sends pleasant vibrations through you, his tongue, gathering the blood off your skin, mixes with the squelching sounds of your hand, dancing over his cock. It’s throbbing, pulsating in your little hand and you press your body closer to his torso, wishing to feel his length against your belly.

“Daddy, may I have it, please?”

He groans and his lips leave your neck as he commands without using his powers, “lie down.”

You can’t follow the order quicker. You need him more than air. Your empty pussy is weeping to be filled, used, stretched by his manhood. Your whole being craves to serve his needs and after satiating his hunger for some time, your cunt is ready to be fed.

Your thighs fly apart and you look up at him with pleading eyes. Max is not cruel but he’s also quick to punish you if you piss him off.

His cock bobs when he gets between your thighs and a drop of precum lands on your mound. You already whine at the sensation.

“So obedient, you really want it tonight, huh?”

“I always want it… but yes, daddy, please,” you add hastily, batting your lashes at him.

“What do you want?”

As soon as he uses this voice, the atmosphere in the room changes. He was your ‘daddy’, now he’s your god. He asks and you reply without a moment of hesitation,

“I want not to feel anything but your cock deep in my cunt, not to think. Be so cockdrunk I can’t keep my eyes open.”

He smirks but there’s a trace of bitterness in his expression.

“I see.”

He sighs and grabs your thighs with his massive hands. He spreads your legs even wider, and when your pussy blooms for him he harshly spits on your throbbing clit, making you jerk and moan. The next second he lifts your hips up and pierces you with his cock. He’s either in a good mood which you doubt by his roughness or craves a release. With your ass lifted off the bed, you gasp suddenly feeling full as your walls are spreading for him. But you need more and he knows it.

“Do you feel me deep inside, baby?”

“Yeah, you’re so big, daddy.”

“Wanna feel more? “

“Yes, daddy, please. I’m begging you, I want nothing more.”

“ ‘k, baby. You’ve been such a good girl.”

Without a warning his voice changes and he starts ordering you.

“Listen to me, hear only my voice.”

The city noises from the outside are immediately gone. You hear nothing, not even ticking of a clock in your bedroom. Only his voice is in your ears as if he’s speaking right inside your mind.

“You feel nothing. Just. My. Cock. Deep inside your cunt. In your mind. In your veins. Everywhere.”

Your eyes roll back as you’re made to concentrate on his manhood in your trembling body.

“Your pussy is hugging me so well. Make her weep around my cock. Can never get enough of your juices soaking me, baby. You always feel so good. And you deserve to feel good too.”

“Yes, daddy, I do.”

You’re floating in a warm river, his voice, his being are enveloping you. Nothing exists anymore, just him and you are left. Then he rolls his hips and it gets almost unbearably overwhelming. His cock slowly slides in and out of your sopping pussy with ease and your brain, your core, your every cell light up brightly as you already feel yourself at the precipice.

He’s fucking you gently, then gets rougher and marks you with his teeth, drinking your blood. His cock is throbbing between your walls, his hands are sliding over your breasts, twitching your nipples and playing with your clit. His face flashes in front of your eyes and you’re kissing. That’s when you feel the explosion of pure, untainted ecstasy.

“Come harder”, he commands, and you know you’re crying at how amazing you feel. It’s all happening ‘there’, somewhere deep inside you, the place so wonderful you wish you’d never leave.

At the back of your mind you know that you’re getting obsessed. Sometimes you think there’s more of him in you than you. He’s behind your eyes constantly, his handsome face with a lopsided smile flashes there over and over. You could draw it by heart now. Day after day his teeth sink deeper into your neck, his cock pierces you harder and you welcome the pain. The high is so much better after a little bit of pain.

Max is careful with you. He knows his strength and knows the effect he has on you. He’s attentive. He sees your glazed over eyes, parted lips, your breathing almost stops. You’re not here with him, you’re nowhere. You start noticing fear in his eyes when it takes longer and longer to get you out of ‘there’.

Trickles of blood are seeping from two tiny holes in your neck. Your thighs thrown widely apart, his cum is glistening at your entrance as he watches you, sitting naked between your legs. His chin and mouth are red and he’s licking his lips, not wasting a drop of you.

“Baby, look at me.” Your eyes are staring up and to the left. You’re looking at something but don’t see anything.

“Look at me!”

He orders then calls for you, nothing, again and again, you don’t respond. He slaps your cheek, not hard, just to get you back but you refuse to return to him. In your mind you’re still coming on his cock, over and over, dripping, moaning, relishing the feeling of his cum filling you up to the brim. Why would you ever go back?

Suddenly it stings. He’s slapped you really hard and your cheek is burning.

“Daddy?” You murmur, gradually coming back to reality, blinking rapidly with tears in your eyes. He’s hovering over you, his hands gripping your shoulders, his black eyes under the furrowed brows look worried and sad. Then angry.

“I couldn’t get you back! Fucking hell! You were gone for a fucking hour. It’s never been that bad.”

“It wasn’t bad. ‘s good,” You mumble while your hand flies to rub your heated cheek. Your brain is still barely functioning and your whole body is tingling after such an amazing orgasm.

“I won’t do it anymore.” He throws at you, getting off you and sitting at the edge of the bed. “Fuck this!”

Your heart freezes, gripped by the fear, and you hastily sit up. You almost fall off the bed, drunk on the amount of endorphins in your blood and then slowly crawl to him.

“Daddy, don’t say it. I’ll get back alright.”

“Yeah, what if you don’t.”

‘It’s worth it,’ you think but don’t say it. Instead you lie to him. “I’m sure I’ll always get back. It just feels so good there.”

He’s shaking his head and your stomach churns with terror.

“You told me you’d killed people for fuck’s sake! Why do you care so much about me?!” You shout and he turns to you. His pained expression makes your chest hurt. Your heart is fluttering at how handsome he is, how much you love him but love quickly morphs into hate when he threatens to take away the best thing you’ve ever experienced. You beg again and again but he’s unyielding. Finally he gets tired of your whining and leaves.

Max visits you a couple of times after that. He fucks you but refuses to command you. He makes you come on his cock or tongue and every time you cry, beg and shout, demanding to tell you to stop feeling anything except him inside you. You unravel for him again and again but it’s just not enough. Not when you’ve been there, felt that much ecstasy.

“What if I turn you?” He offers at one point.

“Will you be able to tell me what to do?”

“No.”

“Then no”.

“But we can be together forever.”

“No, daddy, please, one more time.”

He curses and leaves and then he stops coming entirely. You text, call but he doesn’t respond. Your efforts to find him are fruitless. He’s never told you the details of his life. Or you just haven’t been listening. It’s like he has disappeared into thin air, like he was just a dream.

You cry and cry, not being able to sleep, eat, feel anything else except the void in your soul and life. Max has been filling it so well and now it’s sucking you in. Without that euphoria, without him controlling you, without your ‘daddy’, you have nothing. You wish for nothing else. Mindless hookups, rebound sex, numerous strangers in your bed— nothing can give you that satisfaction.

Max left and took your life with him.

Thank you for reading!♥️ Please, comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic! It motivates me a lot!!🌸

Masterlist

Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag

Max tag @guelyury

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[nicolethered]

Max taking a bite from Elaine in Bloodsucking Bastard (2015)

[perotovar]

PEDRO PASCAL as MAX PHILLIPS Bloodsucking Bastards (2015) dir. Brian O'Connell

[psychedelic-ink]

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.” 

[bruhlpng]

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

[almostfoxglove]

THE PRETTIEST

PART II: INTRODUCTION

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: ghost!Max Phillips x f!Reader WORD COUNT: 5.5k CW: Max being a creep as usual, general voyeurism, impure thoughts (obviously) and general bloodlust. Brief discussion of death.

read from the beginning | series masterlist | main masterlist

SUMMARY: You know he's here—now it's time to talk.

CHAPTER PREVIEW:

You make a little hmph sound, lips betraying you when they snare into your cheek. Only lasts a second but you can’t hide anything from him. He’s pleased you. Made you smile. And just think, if you hadn’t left, he could’ve been doing this the whole time. Could’ve learned morse code by now and tapped out a goddamn novel of the things he wants to say and do to you. Then you spin back around, put your back to him, resuming your hunt for a snack. That’s it? he snarls. Without thought, Max's hand stings the counter smack-smack-smack-smack-smack until your head whips around, eyes knifed as a tired sigh pushes from your lips. “Jesus, I hear you, take a breath,” you huff.

READ PART II ON AO3.

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