#max phillips au

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 1

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Abusive relationship, getting *out* of an abusive relationship, alcoholism, alcohol, mention of sleeping in a car. Summary: One of the worst days of your life takes a sharp right turn into the unexpected when you learn of the death of a long-lost relative. Notes: It's heeeere! Spooky season has officially arrived and with it comes our annual spooky-themed soulmate story! Bringing our two canonical vampires together is going to be endless shenanigans. 🧛‍♂️🧡 Since this story is mostly set inside one of the mansions that I work in, we're planning on using photos of the house as chapter headers some of the time. Visual reference fun!

"Hurry up and get your shit." The drunken bellow from downstairs is followed up by a loud crash, another curse and a thump as your boyfriend – ex-boyfriend – continues to throw the equivalent of a temper tantrum. It hadn't been the first time you've fought, or that the asshole had threatened to throw you out on your ass, but the fist sized hole in the wall that had only been an inch from your face was new, escalating violence.

"Lazy, good for nothing cunt! I work all goddamn day and you couldn't even fucking do what I asked!"

It's not that you don't work. Or that you didn't work. But after getting fired four days ago following yet another day calling out of work to clean up some mess caused by your boyfriend, your manager had said it was the final straw and sent you packing. Since then you had tried to clean up the house, get the back-log of laundry out of the way, and at least make a nice dinner while you applied for new jobs. It isn't your fault that the neighbor's dog got into your yard and ripped a hole in one of his shirts on the clothesline. There is absolutely no way you could have done anything about it. But it is the thing that sent him over the deep end this time and has him screaming at you yet again.

Running upstairs was the best thing you could do to get away from his fist, and now you're just praying that you have enough trash bags in the house to cram your stuff into before he decides to come after you again. You'll be sleeping in your car tonight, but at least all the locks on the doors work. You can manage a few nights in a securely locked car. It's just...that you're not quite sure where you'll go after that.

The sound of the top to a Natural Light beer being cracked open sounds from the base of the stairwell and he takes several loud gulps. Belching from drinking too fast and hitting the wall with the flat of his hand. "Come on, bitch!" He calls out. "I ain't got all night!"

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you pace back to the top of the stairwell and lean down so you can actually see him. Ten goddamn years with this man and this is how it ends. "I'll be gone by the time you get home," you promise him, the resignation obvious in your voice. He'll go to the bar to see his friends like he does after he eats dinner almost every night. You've never been the kind of girlfriend to stop him from seeing his friends, so they have had a routine for almost as many years as you've been together.

"Good." He glares up at you and points a finger. "You better not take any of my shit either." He warns you. "Tired of taking care of your stupid ass. You're in for a rude wake up call. Shit's not easy out there." He burps again and turns around to stumble down the hall. "You are such a disappointment." He yells out before opening the front door and letting it slam behind him, rattling the windows.

"Yeah." You sigh, shaking your head with one of those cheap fleece throw blankets in your hand. It has ballet slippers on it, a relic of a childhood long dream long forgotten. "I know I am." Holding up the blanket to look at it more closely, you debate throwing the damn thing out entirely, but it will keep you warm in the car tonight. It will go into a trash bag along with everything else.

As soon as the blanket is shoved in with your two miniature throw pillows, your phone goes off in your pocket. Expecting it to be Derek, ready to yell at you some more, you're surprised to see Private splashed across the screen instead. If you don't answer it and it is him for any reason, there will be hell to pay. "Hello?"

The smooth, cultured voice on the other end of the line is slightly raspy. As if the person has spent a lifetime swallowing brandy and smoking cigars, or had spent all day talking. In actuality, both of those things are true. Your name is spoken in the form of a question. Asking if he had reached the right person.

"Speaking." The automatic answer doesn't make you feel any less confused, but at least they aren't yelling at you. "Can I ask who's calling, please?"

"Antonio Colette," He tells you quickly. "With Colette and Dupree. I am calling about your late, great aunt, Etienne Brown." He shuffles through the papers to bring up the will that had been laid out, along with the investigators report on you. It was how he had found your current number. "I am executing her estate and quite frankly, it has been a search to find you."

"I'm sorry," you shake your head against the phone as though the man could possibly see you. "I don't know anyone by that name. My, um...I don't know a lot of my family. But that isn't a name I recognize. Maybe you have the wrong person?" There is no reason that any family member you've never heard of would have left you anything in a will, so he must have the wrong number. That's the only explanation you can think of.

"No, ma'am." He tells you. "I don't think I have the wrong person. Is this not a good time to talk?" He can hear something in your voice, and while most were always happy to inherit something, you might have pressing matters to attend to.

Hesitating for a reason you can't quite put your finger on, you glance out the window in the corner of your now former bedroom, the one that overlooks the driveway. Derek's truck is gone, and your shoulders slump a little. You have hours until he comes home now. Usually it's not until after last call. "No...no it's okay. I'm just...not having a great day. What did you want to speak to me about?"

"Ms. Brown was very particular about her will. As executor of the estate, it is my duty to make sure that her last wishes are carried out. As there is no other living relative on your mother's side, she decided that you would be the sole heir of her estate." He explains. "This includes the eight-bedroom mansion and the trust that has been established to pay for the manor. Her private accounts. The total combined monetary worth of twelve point two million dollars."

The crash that he hears from your side of the phone call is you falling over – a product of your legs giving out the second he said the word mansion and then losing your balance all over again at the sum total of the estate. "Wh—what?" You manage to breathe, barely managing not to break down in tears all over again. For an entirely different reason, this time.

"Of course, there is one issue that you must be made aware of." He's used to people being surprised, so he doesn't try to explain. You will soon be holding paperwork that you can read again and again if needed. "There are two tenants in the mansion. Ms. Brown has given them a lifetime estate on the rooms they occupy." He tells you. "Meaning they live there for as long as they wish."

"O—okay..." As fast as your mind can possibly turn, you still feel like you can't quite keep up with it, and you end up curled up at the foot of your bed hugging the throw blanket that was still in your hands when your phone rang. "So...I just...get a mansion? And twe—twelve million dollars? And the only caveat is that I have two tenants?" None of it makes any sense, but you'll be damned if it doesn't sound like the perfect way out of the hell that you've found yourself in.

“Pretty much.” Antonio agrees. “When would you be available to tour the property and sign some paperwork?” He asks, flipping over to his calendar to pencil you in.

"I—" Stumbling again, your forehead drops onto the pillow clutched against your chest before you tip your head back and stare up at the mottled ceiling. "I guess...as soon as I can get there?" It's not as though you have anything else to do at the moment. Or even anyone to tell where you're going. "But, can I ask? Um...where exactly is this house?"

“Newport, Rhode Island.” He supplies. “I must confess that I could not find a current address for you, just this phone number, so I am not quite sure where you are traveling from.

"Dandridge, Tennessee." Six years you've lived in this town and it never felt like home, but maybe now that's for the best. With a sigh, you try to think if you've ever even heard of Newport, Rhode Island and come up entirely blank other than knowing that Rhode Island is in New England. Which is a pretty decent drive away. "It might take me a few days to drive up there. Maybe two days? Depending on how late into the night I drive."

“That’s fine.” Colette agrees. “I will give you my number. If you find yourself here quicker than you anticipate, give me a call and I can meet you with the keys.”

"Okay." For a second the brief fear that your car might not even last a two-day drive flashes through your mind but you push it aside and let out a sigh in favor of sitting up to grab the pen off your nearby desk so you can take down the lawyer's phone number. "I...um...thank you, Mr. Colette. This is..." It's insane. It's completely insane and you can't even wrap your head around it. "It's life changing."

“I will see you in two days.” Mr. Colette responds and then ends the call before he sighs. Dropping his head into his hand, he rubs his temple. Whoever you are, he feels sorry for you. No way you know what the hell you are getting into.

******

The first night you're honestly exhausted, and you end up sleeping in your packed-full car behind the twenty-four-hour diner with the really nice waitresses that don't get upset that you need a safe place to park for one night. Telling them that you're moving had done the trick, and the extremely kind pair of women had gotten their line cook to whip you up a sandwich for dinner and one more to take with you when you left town in the morning.

The gps on your phone – thank god the bill is in your name – says that it will take thirteen hours and thirty-seven minutes of driving. Deciding to go, go, go as best you can, you leave town at sunrise and end up crossing the border into Rhode Island at almost eleven that same night. Stopping for bathroom breaks and to gas up the car – plus traffic, of course – has cost some time, but you made it. Now all you had to do was make the last leg of the journey out to Newport. Surprised to find that Newport is actually on an island (didn't you learn at one point that Rhode Island isn't an island?) you pull into a truck stop to finally sleep for the night. You'll do the last forty-five minutes of the drive in the morning.

******

Feeling and probably looking like shit the next morning is the price you pay for getting here quickly, but you call the lawyer at nine in the morning when his office's website says it opens and arrange to meet him at the address he gives you. Bellevue Avenue just sounds fancy, and when you get to the island you realize why. This entire town seems filled to the brim with mansions, expensive shops, and swanky restaurants.

Antonio had been surprised that you had driven through the night, but perhaps he shouldn't have been. He gives you the address to his offices and tells his secretary to make sure that there is a good selection of bagels and muffins out this morning in case you would like something while you go over the paperwork. You are a very important client, and he would like to keep you if possible.

Tired and more than a little ragged, you pull your car up to the office on Thames Street and cut the engine with a sigh. There’s a lot of touristy stuff around, especially on this part of the island, and that means you haven’t seen a single dingy diner or fast food drive-up since you got here. Everything is expensive cafes and fancy restaurants. The thought that you might have to skip breakfast is discouraging until you walk into the lawyer’s office tentatively and smell coffee.

"Good morning." Raquel stands from behind her desk and smooths her pencil skirt down before she walks around the desk. Antonio and his partner prefer that she personally greet each client and she doesn't let her facial expression change from one of welcome when she sees the tired, beaten down appearance of the woman who walked into the door. Her heart clenches at the sight and even if you are not the client that he had been expecting, she will invite you to have some coffee and pastries while she waits for someone to work you into their calendar. "May I help you?" She asks as she offers her manicured hand to shake.

“I—I’m here to see Mr. Colette.” You give her your name along with the handshake she obviously expects, and try to shake the feeling that that smile of hers is probably plastered on. Of course it is. It’s first thing in the morning and she works in a law office.

"Of course." You are the important client, so she immediately waves you to the glass doors. "Please follow me." She tells you. "Mr. Colette is getting all the necessary documents together, but we have tea, coffee, bagels, and some delicious pastries available while you wait?" She wants you to feel comfortable as she walks you down the short hall to the smaller conference room where she had set everything up for the meeting.

“Thank you.” It doesn’t make one single bit of sense to you that they’ve gone through all this trouble, but this long-lost great aunt of yours must have been an important client. Maybe they think you’re important too? Well – they’ll be disabused of that idea pretty soon.

"Please let me know if there is anything I can get you." She senses that you aren't comfortable and she doesn't want to crowd you or do anything to upset you. "I'll let Mr. Colette know you are here."

There are a few minutes to wait, sitting in that conference room surrounded by food that you don’t dare touch, and you end up staring blankly at a photograph on the wall of a yacht on the ocean. It’s almost trance-like, how you sit there and stare, and you end up nearly jumping out of your seat when the heavy wooden doors open again and an elegant looking, well-dressed man walks through flanked by the woman who greeted you.

“Good morning.” Antonio smiles as he assesses the woman who had inherited a fortune and more. He is aware of the details of the will and the history behind it, so he feels like this is personal. “We will have quite a few things to go through, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to make myself a plate.” He chuckles. “No breakfast yet and I’m hungry.”

“Of course.” It’s a little bit like permission, and you feel comfortable enough pouring a cup of black coffee and putting a croissant on a plate for yourself when Mr. Colette motions for you to join him. In a few mere moments the three of you are sitting down at the conference table and Raquel presents her boss with a thick folder of paperwork in a leather sleeve and takes out her own notebook in turn.

“Now.” Antonio looks down at the paperwork and then back up at you. “Thank you for coming so quickly.” He starts off with. “Hopefully this transition will be seamless for you and perhaps after this I can show you around your new home?”

“It still doesn’t feel very real,” you admit, carefully sipping your hot coffee and looking down at the papers in front of him. “And you said there’s two other people…already living there?”

“Yes.” He nods. “Family friends of Ms. Brown.” He tells you vaguely.

“Alright.” Already you’ve made up your mind not to bother them, these people who live in a house that you’re inheriting out of nowhere. Who are you to intrude in their lives? “I assume there’s a lot of paperwork? I’ve never owned a house before so this is all new to me.”

“The taxes and the maintenance for the home are paid out of the trust. So you do not need to worry about that. If anything happens, call and we will take care of getting the bill paid.” He explains. “I’ve already taken the liberty of ordering you debit cards and credit cards.” He pulls out an envelope and slides it over to you. “All of them are active and ready to use.”

So people really live like this, huh? is all you can think to yourself as the lawyer’s secretary also sets a card down in front of you that has a man’s name and phone number with the title of caretaker listed on it. That along with the cards already has your head spinning, but then a set of keys is set down on the table as well. Front door. Kitchen door. Terrace doors. Each antique key is labeled carefully with a tag in elegant handwriting. Closets. Attic storage. Utility closet. It’s so much to take in — too much, arguably — and then a set of car keys is added to the pile. “What’s this?” You ask, already starting to feel your head spin a little.

“This is the car.” Antonio tells you. “The 1963 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray that Ms. Brown also willed to you.” He hums. “I have all the maintenance records for the car here as well. Her other cars were sold or given away before she died, but this one conveyed with her other belongings to you. I believe she said, ‘it goes with the house’.”

“I—um—wow…” Not that you know much about cars, but it sounds impressive and you’re momentarily thankful that you’ve been driving stick for the last few years, since your broken-down third-hand Volvo came into your life. “Are there any more surprises I should be aware of?”

“I’m not exactly sure what you will consider surprises.” The lawyer chuckles and slides a scrap of paper towards you. “The combination to the safe. It’s where the collection of Ms. Brown’s jewelry is.”

A safe full of jewels, a presumably fancy vintage car, a mansion, and a literal fortune? Frankly, it’s all a surprise. “If this house comes with servants I might black out,” you warn jokingly, staring at the slip of paper with the safe combination like it’s a foreign language.

“Well, the staff is paid from the trust.” He tells you seriously. “If you wish to make changes, please let me know. Right now….” He shuffles some papers. “There is the housekeeper and her assistant, the gardener, the pool company, and the window washer.” He looks up. “The pool company and window washer come by once a week. The gardener, the housekeeper and her assistant are all full time employees.”

The dead pan stare you have for the man is completely slack, and it takes far longer than you’re proud of to shake off the embarrassment of staring at him like an imbecile. “You’re serious?” You ask in equal parts confusion and awe. “I was kidding.”

“I assure you, the help is needed.” He tells you seriously. “A house of this size could not possibly be managed by one person alone.”

“Right.” The best you can do is nod vaguely and try not to have a panic attack over the responsibility landing in your lap, and you look between the lawyer and his clerk again. “You said it’s…eight bedrooms?” That place must be a palace…

“That is…the main bedrooms.” Antonio admits. “That doesn’t include the old servants’ quarters, although they are not occupied now.”

“Fuuuuck…” Even mumbling under your breath is obvious, and the paper that is slid in front of you is a clearly labeled blueprint of the house. Four floors, distinctly marked 38,000 square feet, and with more doorways, closets, and stairwells than you can shake a stick at.

“I can understand that it is overwhelming, but the staff is prepared for your arrival.” You look panicked and he doesn’t think that’s a good thing. It’s almost as if you feel…guilty.

“Can I ask…?” Swallowing down the dear at how daunting all of this feels, you abandon your small breakfast and sit back in the uncomfortable padded chair you’re seated in. “Anything about Ms. Brown? What did she do? How did she pass?” Where did all her money come from? The fact is, you had never even heard of her, but she left you an entire life.

“Ms. Brown died at 91.” He’s a little surprised that you are curious, but you don’t seem to be the type of person that is overly greedy. “Complications of old age.”

“I see.” Jittery fingers curl the edge of one page and you bite your lip, trying to see if anything doesn’t fit. But it all seems to knit together properly, in a way that just accidentally benefits you in the craziest way possible. “And she was just…independently wealthy?” It seems unlikely considering your family has so little, but who knows? Anything is possible.

“Some of it was leftover from her wealthy soulmate.” He admits. “They never had children. Some of it was from investments. She was a smart lady.”

“She must have been.” It’s easy to just waste money, you’ve seen that firsthand too many times. “Well…I assume I need to sign things? Make the ownership…official?”

“Absolutely.” He cracks a small smile. “Sign your life away, is the saying.”

Raquel slides a stack of papers over towards you. “All the places for you to sigh are indicated with a tab.”

A dozen different signatures and initials go by like lightning and before you know it, Raquel is excusing herself with the stack of papers to make copies and file things away. “Is there…anything else?” You ask, tentative about what else there could even be.

“Nothing that I can think of.” Mr. Colette hums. “I had the housekeeper stock the pantry and kitchen with basic items.” He tells you.

“That was very kind of you.” Since you aren’t really sure what else to say, you take a determined look at the pile of keys in front of you and muster a smile. “Would you mind showing me the house? The drive was long and it would be nice to settle in.” The further you get from Derek and his reach, the better off you know you will be. Even if you had loved him as best as you could — it had never been enough. Maybe these next people won’t be too disappointed in you. Not the way he was, at least.

“Of course.” He would make sure that you are comfortable before he turns you loose on the house. Or perhaps abandoning you to it would be a more apt phrasing. “Whenever you wish to leave here. I’ve cleared my schedule for the morning.”

“There’s no time like the present, I guess? I can follow you in my car.” You have half a mind to ask if the other occupants will be there, but you can’t see how he would possibly know that so you put the question aside in your mind.

“Of course.” He can’t think of anything else that needs to be address. “We will file all of the paperwork with the probate court and you will be receiving new registration for the car and a title to the house in four to six weeks. Sometimes it does take a few months.” He warns.

“I can’t imagine I’ll need them with any kind of speed.” After all, you have no plans to do anything of importance. In fact, if you never do anything besides sit in your little corner of this town for the rest of your life and remain unnoticed by everyone, you’ll be happier for it.

“Well.” He hands off the papers to the assistant and stands. “Shall we?” He asks, motioning towards the door.

******

Even with the heavy traffic of downtown Newport, the drive from the Law Offices of Colette & Dupree over to Bellevue Avenue takes under ten minutes. You drive by a grocery store and a drug store on the way – both good things to know the location of – as well as numerous high end shops, restaurants, and cafes. There is a bustling town here and it looks like students, too. Young adults with stuffed-full backpacks wearing all manner of paraphernalia that reads Salve Regina University seem to dominate certain areas.

After what seems like dozens of affluent homes, Mr. Colette’s blinker turns on before one of many stone walls and turns left into a driveway. When you follow suit and drive through the front gate, you’re glad to be alone because the gasp you let out is audible. Chateau-sur-Mer rises up and peeks out from behind trees like a monument. More massive than you ever would have dreamed of, the stone-faced house points north with a beautiful, multifaceted landscape surrounding it in every direction. Three stories, with a beautiful back porch, and spires and a tower to boot, the house is offset by a gigantic weeping tree that you don’t recognize and an otherwise reasonably sized house in one corner of the property that seems utterly dwarfed by the mansion it otherwise guards. Caretaker, you remember after a second. There is a caretaker…and presumably that is where he lives? It’s just…you had already had trouble wrapping your head around it. But now that you see it? It’s just…beautiful.

The sleek Jaguar comes to a stop and Antonio steps out and turns towards the older, slightly perilous looking Volvo. He hopes that you will get rid of it, or replace it now that you have the means. He had watched it seemingly buck several times while stopped at traffic lights.

“This is it?” If your question sounds dubious, it isn’t meant to. Honestly you’re almost too flabbergasted to really wrap your head around everything. There are a few cars parked under a structure to the left of the house that you assume used to be stables, from the look of it. Now the small windows that show you inside give a peak at bumpers and break lights instead of manes and carriages. There are a half dozen cars inside that you assume must belong to the other occupants and the staff, with more empty spaces standing open before the gorgeous black and chrome sports car that you now hold the keys to. “I mean it’s…it’s so much room. I’m almost glad there’s other people who will be around a lot.”

“The property is safe.” He assures you. “There’s a surveillance system that you can access and a security system that nothing in the world can rival.” He chuckles at his own joke and motions towards the house. “Shall we go inside?”

“Sure.” Not that you understand why one little old lady would need such a hardcore security system, but you nod anyway and let the lawyer – your lawyer? – lead the way. The house looms, almost daring you to come inside, but you are faced with an ordinary carved wooden door when you actually get close.

"It was built in 1852. Or completed in that year." Mr. Colette tells you as he takes the large keyring from you to unlock the front door and hands the keys back to you with a small grin. "It was once considered a ‘cottage’." He scoffs. "Although I tend to think of something a little smaller as a cottage."

“This is about four cottages all stacked on top of each other.” Walking through the front door cloaks you in near-darkness immediately. When your eyes adjust you stumble up a half-dozen wide marble steps into a front hall that grows up and up and up into an atrium taller than any you’ve ever seen before. The staircase behind you looks like it belongs to the set of a BBC drama and the thick red velvet curtains hanging in the entryway feel more like an old proscenium theater than a house. But the warm carved wood everywhere and colorfully painted forest scenes on the walls are immediately cozy in their own right. “Oh wow…” Your eyes are wide as you look around. It’s…it’s stunning.”

“Any changes you want to make, you are perfectly able to.” The lawyer reminds you, although he couldn’t imagine wanting to change anything about this estate. The mixture of Victorian and Gilded age architecture is a perfect combination to make a gorgeous house.

“I really don’t think that will be necessary.” After all, people already live here. The last thing you want to do is intrude on other people’s lives. “So this is the Great Hall, I guess?” The floor plan that Raquel gave you at the lawyer’s office is going to end up being invaluable, you think, as you pull it out and inspect the drawing of the first floor.

“Yes.” While he’s happy you don’t want to change anything, your tone makes it sound like it would be rude to do so. “The kitchens have been completely remodeled, modern appliances, but they still kept the charm of the rest of the house.”

“And that’s…” You consult the floor plan when there isn’t an obvious appliance anywhere in sight. “In the basement?”

“It is on the lower level.” Guiding you into the house, he explains. “Heat caused by the kitchens was unwanted so after the kitchens being in a different building fell out of fashion, they decided to make sure the kitchen was in the basement to keep the rest of the house cooler during the summer months. There’s the elevator over here, if you wish to use that instead of taking the stairs?”

Mr. Colette motions to the left of the main stairwell, to a portion of the first floor with red and black patterned flooring, and down a hallway. Curious enough to be led around by the suggestion and also noting that the floor plan in your hands says Servants’ Hall for this portion of the house, you follow him tentatively and watch him open what appeared to be a regular closet door. Instead there is a metal grating behind it, which is also opened, and a carved dark wood elevator car stands waiting for you. The kind of thing that would absolutely get you killed in a horror movie, it’s surprisingly sturdy when you step into it and Colette closes the door and gate easily. He presses the ‘B’ button before you can even ask about stairs and the antique elevator jolts to life, headed downstairs.

“Don’t worry,” he sends you a reassuring smile. “The elevator is safe.” He listens to the clanking and feels the carriage start to slow down.

The basement of this house is not like any basement you’ve ever been in before. The enormously long hallway with red and black flooring identical to the hall upstairs seems to stretch and stretch, and there are more doors down here than you could ever fathom needing. But there are voices coming from a room just a few yards away and that is both comforting and nerve-wracking at once. Other people means you won’t be lonely, but it also means new needs, new demands, and potentially new people to disappoint.

“Mr. Colette?” A woman’s voice sounds, loud and clear with a thick Rhode Island accent, from the room and only half a second later a tall, slim woman with gray and silver peppered through her brown hair and glasses attached to a beaded chain appears in the hall. “We weren’t sure when to expect you,” she says with a thin smile. “And this must be the new owner.”

“Yes.” The lawyer who has spent many hours in this house smiles at the housekeeper and waves your forward. Introducing you by your first and last name. “This is Marjorie Taylor and Renee Green. They are the ones who keep the house sparkling and the linens fresh.” He explains. “Mrs. Taylor would also cook for you if you would like.”

“I insist on it,” Mrs. Taylor informs you, smiling in a sort of polite-but-curious way and she shakes your hand when you offer it. “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.” When you falter and repeat your first name, thinking that maybe she had forgotten it or something, she shakes her head and gives you that same amused, thin-lipped smile. “There are a couple of things we stay old fashioned about here,” she tells you. But leaves out that the contract she signed with the rather suave gentleman who hired her specified it. “I’m Mrs. Taylor. This is Renee. The caretaker is Mr. Taylor, and the gardener is Mr. Finchley. The whole staff live in the caretaker’s cottage on the grounds and we are always reachable except for our day off each week. The schedule is written out for you. I left it on the desk in the library along with the necessary phone numbers and other important information.

“You’re very thorough, Mrs. Taylor.” It comes out with a note of surprise and you drop your eyes to the floor, embarrassed. “I mean — thank you. It is very much appreciated.”

“It is my pleasure.” She assures you with a soft smile. “It will be good to have people in the home again.” The others that were here kept to themselves and were often not around.

“I’m just one person,” you assure her, as if to say that you won’t cause trouble or get in the way. Those were things that Derek accused you of far too often. Even if it is the job that these people have taken on — the job not cleaning and cooking and taking care — you would never want to be a burden or a strain on them. “And…I tend to be fairly low key.”

“Well, I hope that you will let us take care of you.” Mrs. Taylor hums. “We have been delighted to hear that you had been located and were coming. I am sure that we will find a way to rub along together.”

“I’m sure.” You say, trying to smile and be reassuring. These people seem to be expecting a boss, not a wallflower, and that isn’t what you are. “I’m very glad to have gotten the call.” That, at least, is true.

“Would you like breakfast after the tour?” She asks. “I can have a tray brought up to whatever room you choose, and Mr. Taylor would be happy to bring up any luggage and boxes you have.”

Renee nods. “I would be happy to help you unpack.” She offers.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.” You protest immediately, but both women give you such placid, polite smiles that you swallow your anxiety about butting into the house and replace it with fear of being rude. “I—I mean…thank you. That actually sounds very nice.”

“Our pleasure.” The elder woman assures you. “Perhaps later on, once you have settled in, we can go over your preferences.” She tilts her head. “For now, do you have any food allergies I should make note of?”

“None.” Just as soon as you shake your head though, something in your gut churns and the smell of Derek’s cheap beer somehow overtakes you out of nowhere. It’s like a sense memory you never needed, and you stammer inelegantly. “But I—I, um…I don’t drink. Alcohol, I mean.” You did before. A long time ago. But seeing what it did to the man you thought you were going to spend your life with has ruined it for you. Soulmate or not, you had really thought Derek was the one. But his one comes in a can.

“Yes ma’am.” If it sounds odd to her, she doesn’t make it visible, just nodding politely. “I will make sure you have a nice tray sent up, I know you will be tired from travel.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor.” “I’ll show our new resident The call buttons after she chooses a bedroom, so you’ll know where to bring her tray.” Colette assures the housekeeper with a smile. “We’ll just head back upstairs.”

“Perfect.” She smiles at the lawyer. “Oh, Max and Eddie aren’t here right now, so if you show her their rooms, just go right in.”

You thank both women again and follow Mr. Colette back upstairs, where he motions to the left of the hallway where the elevator is hidden and you end up in a room that is wall-to-wall cabinets. There are beautiful serving pieces and sets of China in those cases, as well as stunning crystal and glassware. If you ever throw a Victorian themed dinner party, it looks like you’ll be all set for dishes.

“The preservation society on the island has been itching to get their hands on this estate.” Antonio muses as he slows down to let you take in the vastness of the collection. “Ms. Brown always enjoyed thumbing her nose at them.” He chuckles quietly. “I believe that you would have liked her. She was a firecracker.”

“She had great taste.” There is a set of China in the cases that you keep coming back to — the intricate gilding and beautifully painted flowers utterly mesmerizing you for a few moments. There seem to be three different full sets of China here and two full sets of glassware. Every different size dish or glass you can think of is here.

“Now it is yours to keep and use however you wish.” He reminds you as he moves towards the display of real silverware.

“I think it’s actually harder to wrap my head around that now that I’m in the house,” you admit, trying for a laugh and just sort of letting out a huffed breath instead. On the floor plan, the door to the left of you is marked Butler’s Pantry and that seems like someplace you shouldn’t go. To the right, though, the plan says Dining Room. “This way next?” You guess? The door looks innocuous enough — it’s just a dining room. It can’t be that crazy.

“Wherever you would like to go.” Antonio insists as he pushes open the swinging double doors silently. The large dining room table with the massive set of three chandeliers dominates the room.

The gasp from your lips has you pretty sure that you’re going to be saying “Wow” a hell of a lot in this house, and every room just makes the feeling grow. From the forest green walls of the dining room outfitted with ornate carvings in dark wood – to the silver painted walls of the ballroom with its six foot high mirrors and gilt relief work on every wall panel. A parlor room off one end of the ballroom is all decorated in green silk fabric – even the walls – with clean white accents. Beyond that is a hallway with a stained-glass ceiling and a white marble floor that is decked in red leather sofas and contains huge white marble statues and paintings on the walls that are nearly life sized. The library is the most ornate yet, with carvings on every single wooden surface, lush carpeting and sitting space, and even a hidden door built into one bookcase. “Where does that go?” You ask immediately, too tentative to open it yourself.

“This, I believe, goes to the morning room.” He tells you, cocking his head as he thinks. “It has been some time since I have completely gone through the house.” He admits.

“Is it okay to go through? I mean the house is old but it’s not so old that it’s unsafe, right?” The idea of a door in a book axe is too good for anyone to pass up, especially you.

“Absolutely.” Antonio pulls the leaver to open the door. “Ms. Brown and her soulmate would spend quite I bit of time in this room. I believe it was her favorite.”

The middle section of the bookcase pulls toward you smoothly, allowing you and Mr. Colette to pass into a large corner room with enormous picture windows on two sides and built in bookcases on every other wall. Like an extension of the library there are books everywhere, a red leather windows seat that matches the sofas in the marble hall, and even intricate wooden shutters that close over the windows in sections to regulate how much light is let in. One side of the room is dominated by a large fireplace with yet one more large mirror set in the wall above it, and there are small statues all along the mantle. A billiard table takes up most of the space in the middle of the room, but a table and chairs and a desk also fit neatly with plenty of room to move.

“This house goes on forever,” you observe with a laugh of disbelief.

“It is one of the larger cottages.” He agrees. “In fact, it was the largest house until the Vanderbilts built the Breakers.” He imparts that little fact with a smirk as he looks around the room. “But I’ve always been fond of this estate.”

“It’s beautiful.” Having seen it up close and personal, you can imagine that photos don’t do it justice. It must seem crowded or busy in pictures. But in person? It’s like the house is hugging you. After another minute looking around the morning room, you follow Colette back out to the entryway and head upstairs. There is fabric, not wallpaper, hanging on the walls around the master staircase and it is painted with a forest scene that seems reminiscent of folk tales. Like magic could be lurking behind any corner or a satyr just might come out from behind a bush. There is a tree painted on the underside of the enormous staircase, trunk and branches extending upward to sprout leaves and welcome birds, and it crawls all the way up the stairwell to extend out to the ceiling of the second-floor landing and atrium. Dozens of little painted songbirds light on branches everywhere to make you feel like you have climbed into the forest that is painted on the walls.

“Every room has its own theme.” He explains at the top of the stairwell looking down the hallway at the doors. “If you don’t mind. I will step away to make a call.”

"Of course." Far be it from you to stop him from attending to his business, and you follow along the railing in the hallway to make your way into a different hall. This one is just a rectangular room with the now familiar built-in cases along the walls, paintings and intricate light fixtures above the cases, and six doors to choose from. To open them one by one seems like a massive intrusion, but you can't figure out any other way to see what else is up here. The floor plan marks four bedrooms on this floor as well as a sitting room and a nursery, though you can't understand why there is a nursery if there were never any children living here. Maybe your great-aunt and her soulmate wanted children but just could never have them? That's a far sadder thought than you can muster at the moment.

Hoping that you're facing the right direction, you open the door on the opposite wall from where you are standing and – yes, you had it right – the sitting room is full of plush chairs and love seats with a petite fireplace that has a huge flatscreen television over it where you assume a mirror once stood. The fireplace has a small stand inside it that obviously prevents fires from ever being laid, but more importantly seems to be the storage rack for multiple video game systems. Whoever Max and Eddie are, these other occupants of the house seem to thoroughly enjoy video games.

To the right of that room is a beautifully laid bedroom with honey colored furniture and homey gray and white pinstripe wallpaper. A writing desk stands at the ready between a window trimmed in lace curtains and a white marble fireplace, and it feels like exactly the kind of room that you would love to be brought to if you were a guest in someone's house. As much as it is sweet, inviting, and unexpectedly friendly, it feels…spoken for somehow. It’s nothing you can describe fully, but it makes you think that you shouldn’t disturb the room. Like whoever had claimed it originally might still come back one day to curl up in that bed or sit down at that desk.

There are two more bedrooms – one with furniture made of a wood that is somehow remarkably the same shade as roasted butternut squash and the other with a luxurious, if slightly gothic, yellow velvet and dark walnut loveseat and red upholstered chairs in it that all beg to be read in – but both rooms very obviously are occupied. These must be the rooms that Max and Eddie claimed whenever it was that they arrived. The next door to the left of Max's room yields a large, airy bedroom decorated in all sorts of shades and textures of blue with dark wood furniture and soft pink silk and lace curtains over the windows. A painting of a smiling young woman hangs above the fireplace with two lamps in the shapes of cherubs holding the light source aloft. Two cream-colored chairs sit by a small table and two more blue velvet chairs flank another. You could have a whole party in this spick-and-span room without any effort whatsoever.

“This is the one, I see.” Antonio has returned. Lingering in the doorway as he watches you move from Knick knack to knick knack with an almost dreamy expression on your face. “Let me show you the call system.” He gives you an apologetic look. “I’m afraid that I am needed in court.”

A set of buttons by the door to what you very accidentally have apparently selected as your room will summon a member of the house's small staff, Mr. Colette tells you, and there is a similar button on a handle by your bed, almost like the call button for a nurse in the hospital. "Don't let me keep you," you murmur, waving off another apology from the man who has literally swept into your life and changed everything about it. The last thing you want is to stand in the way of anything he has to do. "I'll, um...I guess I'll unpack."

As if on a secret cue, the door to the elevator opens on the other side of the hall and an ornate rolling cart, much like the ones at the posh hotels, rolls out. Your trash bags are all neatly stacked with the few boxes and the one bag you had managed to take from your ex's house. The older, stately looking man pushing it does not judge, his sharp eyes looking for the room where the new owner has decided to take up residence so he can help in any way possible. Renee is behind him, a fully ladened tray on another rolling cart.

You can hear them rolling down the hallway before you see them, and Mr. Colette smiles in satisfaction. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says, looking toward the doorway as the source of the noise comes into view. “If you need anything, you have your staff here, and my number. Please don’t hesitate.”

“Right. Thank you, Mr. Colette.” As soon as you say his name he disappears from view, and you’re left face-to-face with the embarrassing sight of your trash bags in this gorgeous home.

“I took the liberty of moving your car into the carriage house.” Mr. Taylor tells you. In addition to being the caretaker, he also maintains all the vehicles here. Your car is in sore need of some TLC and he is already itching to get to it.

“That’s very kind of you. You really don’t have to go through any extra trouble.” The sight of garbage bags just feels wrong in a house this old and grand, and it just makes you feel like apologizing for that, too. “As you can see it…it really shouldn’t take me too long to get settled in.”

“It just means you can rest.” Renee offers with a smile as she rolls the tray over to the couches and table. “Here, ma’am?” She asks politely.

"Hopefully it won't take too long to find a new job." The offhanded and automatic thought doesn't even phase you, although you don't enjoy the fact that you'll have to explain why your last place let you go. At least you can assure them that it won't happen anymore – since Derek isn't in your life there won't be any erratic or unexpected phone calls to have to respond to immediately. "Thank you, Renee. It...it all looks wonderful." Laden with a steaming silver coffeepot and fresh pastries with butter, jam, and fruit, the delicate China on the tray looks like it has been laid for a queen.

“My pleasure, ma’am.” Mr. Taylor quietly excuses himself, and Renee turns towards the cart with an eagerness to begin. “Do you have some specific organization for your things?” She asks, hoping to know how you would like things. “Or shall I organize them for you?”

Even if you had specific organization, it would no longer apply to this house. The feeling that everything should be in a specific place and that rooms have specific functions is very different from how you were living before. "I'm sure you'll know just where things are supposed to go," you tell her, with a definite air of 'because I don't have any clue'.

“Yes ma’am.” She nods and immediately whirls around to start wheeling the cart into the dressing room just off to the side of the bathroom.

"Renee?" Following her just a few steps and sticking your head into the dressing room, you have to swallow yet another sigh over how beautiful this house is and how grand everything seems at first blush. You shake it away, though, when her head pops up expectantly. "I don't suppose I could ask any of you to call me by my name, could I? Mrs. Taylor seemed rather set on using a title..."

“It— it’s not done.” Renee admits with a bashful smile. “Although Mrs. Taylor did call Ms. Brown by her nickname at Ms. Brown’s insistence.”

"She had a nickname?" For some reason that intrigues you, even though she had an unusual name to begin with. You've never heard of a woman named Etienne before.

“Cookie.” Renee smiles fondly. “She went by Cookie for as long as she could remember.”

"That's very sweet." And actually makes you smile too, though you can't quite figure out why it warms you through the way it does.

“Do you have a nickname, ma’am?” She asks curiously. “I am sure that Mrs. Taylor would have no issue using a nickname for you.”

"I—" About to protest that you really don't, or at least that you can't think of one, a long-lost memory gets dredged up from the bottom of your mind that you haven't given any thought to in a long time. "I used to like being called Dolly. Quite a lot."

“Yes Ms. Dolly.” The nickname is no more unusual than ‘Cookie’ and the smile that thinking of your nickname is soft and real as it makes you light up.

"Thank you, Renee." It actually relaxes you measurably just to have a little bit less formality, and you offer the girl another genuine, if small, smile.

"My pleasure." She turns back to the bag that is opened and starts to carefully remove all of the clothes to sort and organize into piles before she can fold or hang them. "I should have all of this sorted in just an hour or so."

"Please don't feel like you need to rush. It isn't like I have anywhere to go." The fact that someone else is doing your laundry makes you more than a little embarrassed but you try to remember that it's literally her job. "But...again...thank you."

She doesn't bother to remind you that it's her job, just humming quietly as she continues to make note of what you have that needs pressing.

"Renee?" Even after you've walked away, you double back to look into the dressing room where she is sorting through the things you brought from Tennessee. "Was, this...um...was this Ms. Brown's room?"

"It was, Dolly." She stands up and moves towards the door. "Does that upset you?"

"I...don't really know," you admit after a moment of thinking about it. "I think it's more that...I don't want to disturb it? Like if she had a favourite chair, or painting, or lamp or something, then I wouldn't ever want to move it." Saying it out loud makes you sigh, and you huff a laugh at yourself. "That probably sounds silly."

Her own laugh is slightly ironic. "Please don't worry about that." She assures you. "Ms. Brown loved to rearrange her furniture based off of how she was feeling that week." She tells you. "It drove Mrs. Taylor up the wall, but she would almost insist on moving most of it herself. Even up until a few years ago."

"Wasn't she in her 90s?" You ask, surprised to hear anything so active about the old woman who had lived here.

"She was spry." Renee can sense that you are eager for information about the older lady that had lived in this house. "She did love to pull the chaise in front of the windows and read." She tells you. "Especially on rainy days where the storm raged outside. She would sit with a pot of tea or hot chocolate for hours."

"God, that sounds so relaxing." And in a house full of books, who could blame her? You can't even imagine actually having the time to read every book you saw in the house while you were walking around. " I might have to follow suit for a little while. Just...until I find a new job."

Renee frowns slightly and tilts her head. "A job?" She asks. "Are you someone who likes to keep busy?"

"I guess—" It hadn't occurred to you that you could just not have a job, and that makes you frown far deeper than Renee is at the moment. "I guess so? I didn't really think...I've just always had a job. I didn't really think I'd ever be able to not have one..."

"Perhaps you have something you enjoy doing?" She asks. "Forgive me for being so forward, but you have the means to do whatever you wish now, Dolly."

"I guess I haven't really given it a lot of thought." That makes you frown again, this one considerably more confused, and you shrug your shoulders. "I won't bother you anymore. Thank you, Renee." It's a heady thought to chew over while you eat your breakfast, but it's something that you're going to have to think about. What did you dream about when you used to dream of growing up? You can barely remember anymore.

She doesn't want to pry, so she nods again and turns back towards the dressing room again. It's obvious that you are kind of lost and her heart goes out to you. Hopefully being here will make the sadness in your eyes disappear.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #a mysterious inheritance

[juletheghoul]

A/N; I’ve decided to try and post a bit more consistently. The plan, for now, is to post twice a week—a series chapter update, as well as one of the standalone pieces I have in the works. My confidence lately has been the pits, but I’m not going to let it ruin my life, or my desire to write. This is fun, and I still want to share the things that I create. If you’re still here and reading, thank you, hope you enjoy 💜 (p.s., I know the picture I used isn't Max, but that's how I see this version of him. A little younger, a little leaner-hungrier) (p.p.s, right now there is no plan for a sequel, but I never say never. Asks are always open, and so are the dms)

Pairing: Max Phillips x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.2K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) mentions of loneliness, and alcoholism, language, He's a vampire (went with classic vampire lore for this one, needs a coffin, no sunlight), piv sex (wrap it up!), vaginal fingering, violence, talk of death, blood and some non-graphic gore, period piece

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

It starts with a prickle to the back of your neck, the hairs there standing on end, a shiver running along your spine. 

The main thoroughfare is busy as you make your way home, the lamplights illuminating the steps of your usual path. It's different tonight though, despite knowing the area like the back of your hand and recognizing more than a few faces as they pass, there is a tinge of something threaded through it all. 

You find yourself scanning every shadowy corner, peering through the windows on the businesses you pass, hoping to spot whatever it is that has your blood pounding loudly in your ears. 

Do I want to know? 

You catch yourself from stumbling at the thought, your imagination conjuring images of a dark, evil figure lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike. You shake it off, scolding yourself for letting the fear get the better of you. 

Your home is visible now, just at the top of the hill and the relief is mounting, counting down the steps until you can tuck yourself safely inside, and lock the world out. 

“Excuse me, Miss.” His voice is low and pleasant, but it sends you a good few inches into the air from the fright. “My deepest apologies, I did not mean to scare you.” Your heart is pounding, your hand pressed up against your chest in some unconscious attempt to steady it. You let out a slow breath before answering, laughing shakily as you gather your thoughts. 

“Oh my, forgive me-” You let out another loud sigh, “You gave me such a fright.” You smile up at him out of habit, taking in his handsome face and worried expression. 

“No no, please–accept my sincerest apology.” He bows slightly, his head low in deference and you wave it away. “I saw you from across the street, and I thought, I simply must introduce myself.” He smiles now, and it’s a little jarring, his teeth are perfectly straight and bright white. “I’m Max.” He holds his hand out and you take it without thought, watch him almost in a trance as he brings it up to press it to his lips. The kiss is cool, and it brings curiously vulgar thoughts to the forefront of your mind. He tilts his head, expectant. 

“Oh! Sorry yes, It’s nice to meet you Max-” You cannot help but watch his mouth as you introduce yourself. “I’ve not seen you in town before.” You leave it there and his smile widens, his eyes scanning all around taking in your surroundings. You don’t fail to notice the expensive cut of his suit, the fabric rich, decadent.

“I’m new in town you see, just arrived this morning.” He towers over you, broad of shoulder, slim through the hip. “I see you are unaccompanied, which shocks me.” He offers his arm and again, and you move to take it without much thought. “May I walk you home?” 

“Yes, of course.” You agree, and begin to lead the way, ignoring every warning young women seem to learn practically at the breast, calmly walking with him up the street towards your home. “Where did you come from?” Your attention turns to the feel of his arm in yours, solid and strong underneath his layers. 

“Oh, I come from all over, I'm somewhat of a roamer.” His smile is roguish and you get the impression he might be remembering another young lady on another street, in an altogether different part of the world. “How long has this been your home?” He guides you gently as you make your way up the hill. 

“I have lived here all my life.” 

“Do you like it here?” He doesn’t ask it unkindly, there’s a genuine curiosity there. 

“I like it fine enough, but I have always wanted to see other parts of the world. It's difficult though.” You sigh, he frowns in the corner of your eye. 

“How so?” 

“Well, it is difficult to travel unaccompanied–it also requires funds I currently do not possess.” You laugh a bit awkwardly, surprised with your own candor. 

“Oh-” He seemed taken aback for a moment and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes, men usually don’t pay much attention to the struggles of women. “-yes of course. How ignorant of me.” He was frowning at his feet. 

“This is me.” You pulled him away from his thoughts, gesturing to your house. 

“This is lovely, you and your family must be very happy here.” He smiled warmly, guiding you up the steps to the large wrap around porch. 

“Yes well, we make do.” Your tight lipped smile wasn’t getting past him, his hand held yours for a moment, pulling your attention from your door to him.

“I don’t mean to overstep–are you well?” He held your hand in both of his now, a worried expression plastered on his handsome face. 

“Yes-I, I’m sorry, yes. I’m fine-” He watched you intently, studying and suddenly the words were spilling from your lips, unbidden. “-I’m just alone most of the time, my father works, or drinks, and my mother disappears to avoid the melancholy. My sister is wed and living her marital bliss across the city and I am sort of left to keep everything together.” The thoughts were always present, hiding in your throat, in the pit of your stomach, in the clenching of your jaw when the house was continuously empty. It was a welcome respite to be able to let go of them, for a moment at least. 

He hummed his acknowledgement, the worried frown in place. 

“That is unfortunate.” He was choosing his words carefully. “If you are partial, I would very much like to spend more time with you.” He kissed the back of your hand once more and a momentary madness took hold of you. 

“Would you like to come in?” His eyebrows raised and you hurried to clarify, “I could make you a cup of tea, maybe you could tell me about your travels?” He nodded graciously and a slow creeping smile overtook the frown as he walked up the stairs towards your now open door. His eyes flashed with something but it was gone just as quickly–no sign of danger as he crossed the threshold. 

“You’re too kind, I would love to.” You closed the door behind him. 

He seemed bigger once inside, somehow broader than before. His eyes were bright within the dim foyer, the honey brown of them alert and lively and lovely. You led him towards the sitting room with a shy smile, the thrill of having a gentleman caller in your home without a chaperone sending your heart a flutter. 

Maybe I’m too trusting.

The thought crossed your mind, taking up space until his smile shooed it away once more. 

“How do you take your tea? Or would you maybe prefer something stronger? I think there’s some brandy hidden away for visitors.” Your hands felt numb, the nerves of being alone with him catching up to you. 

“What would you prefer?” He made himself comfortable on the settee, and you noticed his choice with interest. 

“Well, the brandy is rather nice.”

“Brandy it is. Can I help with anything?” He made to get up and you hurriedly put your hands up to stall him. 

“Nonsense, one moment.” You walked away quickly, ignoring the pounding of your heart and soon you were standing in front of him once more, brandy glasses in hand. He took one from you graciously and once you were seated beside him, you took a generous gulp, wincing slightly at the burning in your throat. He swirled the drink in hand, bringing it to his nose, taking in the aroma and for a moment you felt like your father, just knocking it without savoring. 

“It smells wonderful-” He brought the glass to his lips and you did your best to pace yourself. 

“So, tell me about yourself.” You put the glass down and waited, enjoying the feeling of warmth spreading throughout your limbs already. 

“Oh no, I’d rather hear about you.” He placed his glass next to yours, leaning back with open arms facing you. “I’m very curious as to how no one has snatched you up just yet.” He said it with a friendly smile. “You must be of age to marry?” 

“Yes, I am no more wise than you are on the subject.” You reached for the glass once more, needing something in which to focus the nervous energy in your hands, which led you to take another obscene gulp. Half your glass already gone, what would he think of you?

“Have you had many would-be callers? I would have thought your father would be fighting them off with a bat.” He picked up his glass, swirling it as he spoke. 

“Not really, there was a young man who came calling, but he was indifferent as to which sister would take him, so he left empty-handed.” Your nerves calmed with the third gulp, so did the burning and now there was a pleasant, full body buzz flowing through your veins. 

“Well. The men here must be blind.” His eyes flashed again, something vulgar and exciting all at the same time. He put his glass back down, moving so he was sitting a little closer. “Your father would have trouble keeping me away.” He took the now empty glass from your hand and set it next to his rather full one. 

“Why’s that?” You watched him with baited breath. 

“Well, because I would be ruthless in my pursuit.” He moved closer still. “Would woo you tirelessly.” His hand came up, his thumb resting softly on the plush of your bottom lip. You sucked in a breath, acutely aware of the hot spike of arousal in your belly. 

“And–and if I were to deny you?” your voice was curiously breathless, such was the effect he had on you.

“Would you?” He moved closer, his eyes fixed on where his thumb rested on your lip, “Would you deny me?” He was so close, the tip of his aquiline nose nuzzling softly against your own. His lips so close it would only take a nudge to kiss him.

“No-” You knew you wouldn’t, this enigmatic man who’d appeared out of thin air, appeared out of some long forgotten dream, or perhaps a prayer. “I would not.” 

“May I kiss you?” He nudged your nose with his once more, the clean scent of him engulfing your senses. 

“Please-” You didn’t get the chance to finish the word before his lips pressed against yours with an ardor that burned through your whole body. His fingers curled around the nape of your neck, caressing the sensitive skin there while his tongue sought entrance to dance with yours. He pulled a whimper from somewhere in your throat before he pulled away, kissing your cheek, and then again, just below your ear.

You’d been kissed before, but never like this. 

He smiled, his gaze roving over your face greedily, no doubt taking in the lust blown expression shining back at him. 

You gulped. 

“I would decidedly not deny you Sir.” You let out a shaky laugh, feeling as the excitement and arousal flowed through you. Dampening your undergarments, hardening your nipples. 

“I thought not.” His thumb came up to brush against your lip once more, his eyes focused on your face so intently, it felt as though everything else had disappeared. 

“Take me to bed.” The words spilled out of your mouth unbidden, shocking even you and your stomach sank well into the floor when his eyebrows raised. “I-I’m sorry to be so vulgar-”

“Do not apologize to me, there is no sin in desire.” He stood, holding his hand out for you to stand before him. “There is no vulgarity in pleasure between two people, so long as both are willing.” He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, moving to your mouth once more to take the remaining coherent thoughts right out of your head. 

-

Up until today, your life had been, for the most part, predictable. There had been a basic formula to how your hours were spent, where you’d go, what you’d see, even who’d you speak to. You’d thought about it that very morning, the errands you’d have to run-what you’d wear. Whether you’d see your father intoxicated or not. 

Seeing a beautiful, naked man was not on the list of possibilities. For that gorgeous, naked man to have you practically mewling underneath him would never have crossed your mind, at least not that early in the day. 

The bed creaked with every thrust of his hips between your legs, his cock hard and heavy inside the wet clutch of your cunt. 

“Does that feel good?” He huffed out a laugh, his white teeth flashing as he moved a little harder. It was hard to articulate exactly how good it felt and he took your quiet moans as a challenge. “More? Is that what you want my darling?” his elbows came up to rest beside your ears, bracketing your head before he snapped his hips faster, smiling at the way your mouth opened in a silent scream. “There it is, that’s what you like huh?” His voice should have been breathless with the amount of exertion he was exhibiting–but every thrust knocked any coherent thought right out of your head. He shifted to one side, reaching down to slide his fingers around the pearl of your pleasure, thrusting you headlong into your climax. He slowed down, grinding slowly while you crested, no doubt making a mess of the sheets underneath you. 

“I could stay here for days.” He punctuated his words with a delicious swirl of his hips, burying his face into the crook of your neck while you caught your breath, your hands finding their way into his hair. 

“If it’s to be like this every single time–I’m inclined to let you.” You pulled his face up to kiss, needing to taste his mouth again. 

“Oh it definitely would.” He bit his lip, watching you as he spoke. 

“You’d ruin me for all others.” You ran your nails down the muscles of his back, feeling how they corded and bunched with each movement, the coolness of him perfectly complementing your almost feverish warmth. 

“I plan on it, plan on spoiling you rotten.” He kissed you quickly before pulling away and for a moment you thought he might spill his seed on your belly, but he made to move you.

“I would ask you–” Your tone made him pause, a frown on his face. “Beg of you, not to spill inside, I don’t wish to have any children.” It might have ruined the mood of the night, but a child would have ruined your entire life. His features relaxed, a soft smile blooming on his handsome face. 

“I cannot make children, I am sterile.” He pulled you up from your place, both of you kneeling on your bed, his tone sincere. “And even if I could, do you think I would just abandon you?” His hands caressed your back, moving down to hold onto your backside. It was so lovely to have intimacy like this, the loneliness of your days highlighted now in the comfort of his touch. 

“Well, to be quite honest I’m not sure what you’d do. I’ve only just met you–” You sighed, his mouth kissing a trail from your shoulder up to the sensitive skin of your neck, “-you should know, I don’t usually do this. I’m not in the habit of taking men into my bed so quickly.” Your fingers curled in the short locks of his hair. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, pretty.” His lips were still pleasantly cool, all of him was. “I just want to make you feel good.” His hands came up to cradle your jaw before he licked into your mouth, giving you the kind of kiss you’ve only dreamt about in the dark quiet hours. “Now turn around, I want to take you from behind.” he bit your lip, a tiny little nip that had you dripping and you turned to obey. 

His big palm pressed against your spine, pushing your top half down into the mattress before he grabbed your hips, pulling you to him a little rougher than you expected. It made you gasp and within a moment he sheathed himself in your tight heat. A hard thrust that knocked the air out of your lungs. 

“Your wet little cunt is dripping around me-” He sounded as wrecked as you felt, his words fueling the fire of your arousal, “-come up here.” He pulled you up, his arm wrapped around your middle to press you up against the solid wall of his chest, his chin instantly settling on your shoulder, lips pressed against your ear as he set a brutal pace. He sang the song of his pleasure directly into your ear, it flowed all around you, combining with the wet obscene sounds of your joining to push you further and further into a bigger, more intense climax. 

One of his hands moved down, slipping between the lips of your sex to pull you apart, the other sliding up to palm your breast. With a few perfect circles you screamed, digging your fingers into his arm as you clenched around him.

There was a sting. 

A sudden sharp pain at your neck that pulled you out of the haze of pleasure for a moment before it was replaced with something otherworldly. A direct current flowing through your fingers and toes, through your nipples, through the gates of heaven between your legs. 

It was enough to make you lightheaded. 

You blinked, finding yourself laying back on your bed with Max standing near the door, fixing his overcoat. 

How did you get dressed so fast? Why am I so exhausted?

You tried to call out to him, surprised to find your limbs heavy, your eyes fluttering closed. 

“Sleep now, my love.” You heard him speak, his voice sounding so far away. “Sleep, I will see you soon.” A cool, feather light kiss was pressed to your brow before the world went dark. 

-

Whether it was the sunlight streaming in through the lace curtains, or the nightmare, or possibly a combination of both that pulled you out from the depths of sleep, you’d never truly know.  A vision of something hunting, something tearing at flesh, a bone crushing bite flitting through your mind in those first few seconds upon waking making you shudder and turn towards the darker side of the room, avoiding the glaring light in your eyes.

What a horrible dream—wait, what happened again?

It had just been there but now it felt like mist, dissipating far too quickly for you to grab a hold of. 

It was gone.

A knock at your door had any remaining musings about it evaporating into nothing. 

“Yes? Come in-“ You croaked out the words before clearing your throat. 

Your mother waltzed in, already dressed for the day making you frown. She was fussing at her skirts, unbothered—or uncaring that you were still in bed, instead she spoke about a trip she and your father were taking, how the house would be your responsibility for the next few days and that she would see you when she got back. She didn’t wait to hear your thoughts or concerns, or to even ask if you were feeling well, she was gone as quickly as she’d appeared. Leaving you still in bed, studying the time on your pocket watch with confusion. 

Something seemed off, a long stretch highlighted the pleasant soreness between your thighs and then his face popped into the forefront of your thoughts. How could you have forgotten? 

The events of the night before were crystal clear, to a point. You’d been walking home, he’d introduced himself and things had gone well. You’d invited him back to your home—to your bed. Everything was replaying as though you were reliving the night itself, up until he’d pulled that second climax out of you, after that, things were blurred. 

No.

Not just blurred, not just hazy. That would imply there were memories to fog up, this was something else, something aggravating. 

You let out a frustrated groan, tossing in your bed to bury your face into your pillows. 

I wonder where he is now, wonder if I’ll ever see him again.

The jaded, realistic part of your brain said don’t count on it, and after all, why would he care to come back? You’d opened up your doors and your legs, gave him everything you had to offer and he’d left without so much as a fare thee well. At least, not one that you could remember.

Face the facts, you gave it up, and now he’s gone.

-

You were out of breath and not for the first time since waking that morning. Your heart raced as you stopped just outside the general store, needing a moment before starting your usual trek up the hill. The night was blessedly cool, a gentle breeze ruffling the sleeves and collar of your dress and it was only while you were distracted that he found you once more.

“Hello my sweet, I hoped to find you out and about, and so I have.” He smiled his bright white smile, reaching out to bring your hand to his mouth. 

“Max-“ you frowned at him, unable to hide the shock of actually seeing him again. “I—hello, I’m sorry I-“ you floundered, unsure what to say. He seemed taken aback by your response.

“My apologies, did you not wish to see me again?”

“No! It’s not that, no I’m very glad I just—well to be perfectly blunt I didn’t actually think I would.” You blurted the words out, throwing caution to the wind. He brought that out in you it seemed.

“Oh-“ his eyebrows raised into his hairline. “I see. You thought I’d seduced you and then left you to pursue other conquests.” His tone was light, but there was a hurt in it and it made you feel guilty.

“Forgive me, I misjudged you. I am very happy to see you again.” You gave him your biggest smile and he returned it, forgiven.

“No need.” He kissed your hand once more, pulling you to hold onto his arm. “May I accompany you home?” He gestured towards the hill.

“Yes, that would be very helpful, I am feeling a bit lightheaded today I’m afraid.” You laughed, lighthearted but he didn’t join.

“Are you well?” He matched your pace, pulling you slowly towards the house.

“Oh yes, nothing to worry about. Must have been that brandy yesterday. Doesn’t tend to agree with me.” You patted his arm and he dropped the subject.

“Aside from the brandy, how has your day been?” He smiled warmly, his stride slowing down to match yours.

“Well enough.” You sighed, “My mother and father have gone away for a few days, so I have been alone.” You tried to keep your voice neutral but his expression told you he wasn’t buying it. “It is the way things are.”

“Do they not worry about you?” His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion. “Do they not care?”

“I’d rather not know the answer to those questions.” You left the rest unsaid, he didn’t press the issue. “Let’s speak of happier things. How have you been settling in? Are you close by?”

“Yes, just down the lane, a street over. My house is nicely settled but my days are too busy to go out and meet my neighbours. Thankfully I’ve met you though.”

“It isn’t a very big place, there are people no doubt dying to meet you.” You thought about the debutants, the rich single ones who would have taken one look at Max, and gobbled him up. 

“Anyone in particular I should avoid?” He said it conspiratorially, leaning into you and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“No one too villainous.” You patted his arm as you reached the little walkway outside your house. “Come in, sit with me a while.”

“Of course, I’d love to, I need to hear all the local gossip.” 

-

You’d really only meant to invite him in for conversation this time. To have him sit with you in the dim light of your sitting room, listening to him speak about any and everything but somehow- you’d found yourself underneath him once more. 

Your face was pressed against your pillows, your hands like talons, gripping onto your sheets while he straddled your thighs. His hands were holding the globes of your backside open while his cock speared into you again and again. 

He kept your legs closed making his sex feel so much bigger, made it feel like he was splitting you open in the best way. 

You panted into the fabric, dampening it with your breath as he fucked into you—moving your body a fraction with every thrust, the friction of it against your nipples made you ache with arousal. 

“You’re so wet for me my sweet, so tight around my cock.” He spread you open lewdly and you knew he was staring at the place you were joined, no doubt watching himself disappear into your body. “You’re going to milk me dry—reach down and touch yourself, I want you to come before I do.“ he sped up, groaning when you clenched around him. 

You swallowed thickly as you reached down to obey him, shocked at how much arousal he's pulled out of you, feeling the soaked-through patch of the sheet on the back of your hand. 

It only takes a moment, your fingers slipping through your folds with a well practiced swirl and your body tightens up, the coil winding tighter and tighter and you feel him press his chest to your back, his breath in your ear and when the pleasure finally bursts like a firework—a sting.

Euphoria—a wet gush somewhere below you and a pained moan from you, or him, maybe both of you, it’s hard to tell.

You blink.

Or, you try to blink. 

Your eyelids are so heavy, it’s hard to open them but you finally do. Light is streaming in through the window, that cannot be?

Your brain feels slow, like molasses on a cold day, your limbs are so heavy and it takes what feels like hours before you can lift your arm to check the time. 

It is well past noon, and it doesn’t make sense. 

There’s a note on the table where your watch is and you stare at it for a moment, trying with all your might to read the words;

It was lovely to see you again my darling, I had a wonderful time. If you’re partial I would love to call on you again. I hope you slept well, you looked so peaceful when I left. See you soon.  Max

You put the note down and focused on gathering your strength, ignoring the ache in your body, and the fear in your gut.

-

You moved at a glacial pace, both physically and mentally and you ignored the deep-rooted fear in your belly, that you’d caught the coughing sickness. 

Does it start like this? Will I feel weaker and weaker until I cannot move? When does the coughing start? 

You shuddered and shook your head, afraid of the loops your mind was jumping through, trying with all your might to focus on the tasks at hand. Your room needed to be tidied, the linens on your bed had to be cleaned and so you went about stripping the bed. A few drops of something dried a dark brown had stained part of the sheet, your stomach sank further still when you realized it might be blood. 

Okay, just calm down. Everything will be fine, you are not sick.

You gathered the sheets, and your strength, and went about doing what needed to be done.

It took a long time, too long and instead of heading out to run your errands you decided to stay in. Make yourself something warm and hearty for dinner, make yourself a tonic. That would have to work right? 

The sun set as you finally settled in to sit by the fire for the evening, falling into your fathers chair with a groan. The doorbell rang though and you seriously debated not answering, your eyes shut tight, the internal battle raging between your health, and your manners.

“My sweet? Are you well? It’s Max-“ he spoke loudly and your heart raced, making the decision for you. 

“Yes! One moment Max!” You rose unsteadily, inching your way towards the door as quickly as you could with how you were feeling. His face lit up when you opened the door, it fell soon after though, seeing the strain of it plain on your face. 

“Oh–” He made his way past you into the foyer. “-Are you quite well?” He moved to help you over to the chair, kneeling before you once you were seated.

“No Max, I’m afraid I’m a bit under the weather.” You tried to keep your voice light, tried to avoid his penetrating gaze. “You shouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t want you to catch whatever it is.” You pulled the light blanket higher up on your shoulders.

“Oh I very much doubt I could catch anything you might have.” He took hold of your hand, kissing the back of it quickly before moving to sit in the chair opposite. “What are you feeling?” His brow was furrowed, the gears in his mind turning smoothly.

“I feel tired.” The words were a sigh, compounding the sentiment. “Just bone tired, almost as though I cannot catch my breath.” Your hand came up to rest on your chest as you spoke. “My thoughts are slow, every part of me feels like it’s been slowed down—including my wits I think.” You took a deep breath and let out a deep sigh. “Worst is I cannot contact my mother and father, I fear something may happen to me while they are away.” 

“I can stay with you for a few hours, but something tells me you’re going to be just fine.” He winked and you couldn’t help but smile at his optimism. “Do you need anything? I can make myself useful.”

A thought popped into your head then, a fear—the fear.

“Would you mind laying with me for a time? In my bed? Just laying and talking?” It felt almost pathetic to ask him, this young, vibrant, healthy man—spending his night with a young, possibly very sick woman. 

“Of course my darling, I would be happy to. Come, I will help you.”

-

To your credit, you’d both laid there in the soft candlelight for a long time, talking about all of the different places he’d been and all of the different places you wanted to visit. He made you laugh, made you forget about how horrid you felt; made you feel special and wanted and so it inevitably led to you both being naked in your bed. 

Your feelings of weakness were now replaced with a mounting pleasure. His mouth was a steady suck at your nipple, his tongue circling the sensitive tip mercilessly while his hand worked away between your spread legs. Two thick fingers pumping, a thumb gliding, his tongue–a gorgeous dance being led to the tune of your pleasure. 

His cock was flushed with blood, hard and heavy against your thigh and leaking his pearly arousal onto your skin. You couldn’t help but reach down and wrap your hand around it, collecting everything that leaked from the tip to give him a stroke; try to make him feel at least half as good as he was making you feel. 

He moaned onto your skin, his hips chasing the friction of your slick fist, quicker and quicker until he groaned deeply, spilling his passion onto your thigh. And then his eyes found yours, the whites of them gone–the whole of them blacker than night and terrifying and then you felt it. 

A prick. 

Strangely familiar. 

There was no time to dwell on any of it though because his fingers were still pumping, his thumb still swirling and the force of your climax was enough to make you scream, then the darkness came. 

-

Glimpses of light plagued you, much like the dreams. One moment you were being chased by some huge, unseen monster, skirts whipping behind you through the night, a bloody grin never far behind. Then you’d open your eyes and be tossing and turning, sweat soaked and feverish in your own bed. 

It felt like hours. 

Hours of running, hours of tormented sleep, hours of confusion and god knows what else. 

I’m dying.

The thought came to you during a precious moment of clarity and all it did was scare you. 

Your eyes opened again, the light had faded, was it night? How many hours, days had gone by?

“Max?” It felt like another dream, this one cruel because he was there, healthy and glowing and sitting by your side. 

“I’m here, my darling.” His voice cut through the delirium, his hand a cool respite from fire burning just underneath your skin.

“Max-” Your voice was a hoarse croak, “I-I think I’m dying.” Tears streamed down your face, leaning into his hand with the little strength you had left.

“Yes, you are my love, but you don’t have to.” He stroked your face, leaning close to press his lips to your feverish brow. “You have a choice.”

“I don’t understand-” Was this another dream?

“If I leave you now, you will be dead by morning.” His voice was steady, “But there is another way. I could make you like me and then we can be together forever.” 

You couldn’t die now, there was so much to do, so much to see, and Max–he could have been the great love of your life and it wasn’t fair. 

“Like you? Max, I don’t want to die.” The tears flowed faster, fear and despair running rampant. 

Why couldn’t I have met you years ago?

“You don’t have to, I can make you like me.” He lifted your hand in his, placing a soft kiss at your wrist. “Would you like that? Do you want to be with me forever? I cannot help until you say yes.” He wiped away the tears and waited.

“Yes Max, I want to be with you forever.” He smiled a sharp smile, and in a flash he was at your throat, his kiss had teeth and it made you whimper, made you close your eyes and fall limp in his arms. There was a moment when you thought you’d lost consciousness but then there was something in your mouth, a thick liquid crawling down your throat and into your bloodstream. It was a balm, something to soothe the ache and the pain but it turned to acid in a flash. The web of hurt spreading like a lightning strike and burning twice as hot. 

It was agony. 

You’d been burned once as a child, your mother had been ironing one of your fathers suits. The red hot iron had merely grazed your arm, but the pain lingered for days, caused you sleepless nights and tears to spare. 

Compared to this, that burn was a kiss. That burn was the soft caress of a lover, a cool scrap of silk against your skin. 

“Max, what is happening to me?” Your voice is a strangled cry, the linens under you felt like steel wool. He answers and he's so much closer than you expected him to be while you thrash blindly. 

“It is almost over my love, soon the pain will pass.” His hand found yours through the chaos of the pain, a lifeline in the middle of a deep, dark, ocean. 

-

It could have been minutes, or hours that passed. It could have been years, but eventually the storm abated, and with it went the pain. 

“Max?” Your fingers flew up to your mouth, pressing against your lips, shocked at the way your voice sounded. Still your voice, but somehow more. 

“Yes my love, I am here.” His voice sounded different too, so much clearer—everything sounded clear. Too clear, the sound of the floorboards creaking under his steps so much louder than you’d ever heard it. “You will adjust.” He crouched beside your place in the bed and your eyes widened when you took him in. It was as though he’d been hiding behind a paper screen before, the shape of him clear enough to distinguish him from another, but somehow vague. 

He was devastatingly handsome, his skin smooth as polished marble, his eyes every shade of honey brown at once. 

“What did you do to me?” You reached out to touch him and you noted the perfect skin of your hands, almost doll-like.

“What you asked,” he grasped your hand in his, placing a kiss on your palm. “I have made you like me. Come—get dressed and we will eat.”

His words were like a punch to the stomach, hunger spreading like a bruise throughout your body, the pain of it almost debilitating.

“I might faint of hunger Max, where will we eat?” You dressed as quickly as you could, ignoring the slight tremble in your hands.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something.” He helped you dress, pulling you from what you’d come to believe was your deathbed and out into the night but before you’d made it out the door, you caught your reflection and gasped.

It was you, that was to be sure but it wasn’t the You you’d come to expect to see. The woman in the mirror has your face, and your eyes, your hair—but she was different. Her skin was perfect. Her eyes sparkled, her teeth shone so white.

 It was mesmerizing.

“Is that me?” You watched the reflection, her beauty shifted, something predatory in the eyes.

“Yes my love, that is you.” He placed a kiss on your neck. “Come, before the sun rises.” He pulled you away from the mirror, and into hell.

-

“It’s overwhelming, I know, but you will adjust, as I did.” His voice is the anchor, a tether holding you from getting lost in the chaos. Has it always been this bad? This loud? Your feet carry you through the streets, with his hand guiding you along and the closer you get to the thick of it–to the crowd milling about the high street where the worst it is. 

“I know my love–” His arm slips around your waist, pressing you close. “-Just a little further, and I will find you what you need.” Your stomach roils, the hunger-the thirst rips a swathe through your being. 

“Why am I so hungry Max?” You stumble over a loose cobble but he steadies you, lifting you back onto your feet as though you were made of paper and it almost scares you how strong he is. 

“Because you have not eaten.” His words are casual, a seemingly simple answer for a seemingly simple question. It didn’t feel simple though, not with the way you could barely concentrate. Everything seemed to be amplified, the dial on the radio turned to an uncomfortable volume and there was no way to turn it down. Distorted voices, an incessant thumping so loud it made you blink to its beat. 

Worst of all, was the smell. 

The city smelled rotten. The cloyingly sweet smell of overly ripe fruit, the sour smell of unwashed bodies, the moldy smell of old bread, hard packed dirt filled with worms, but threaded through it was the rich smell of butter and fine wine–the green of summer grass. Underneath everything though was something else, something mouth-watering–something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

He led you towards the park, the vast, open, green space where you would have never gone unaccompanied, much less at night. It was hard to feel afraid with Max though, it was hard to feel anything but intense hunger. 

“That one there is a good candidate.” He gestures to a middle aged man. “He won’t be missed.” He watched you, an encouraging smile on his handsome face, you frowned in response. 

“I don’t understand–” You looked at the man again, he must have been in his late forties, maybe even early fifties. 

“You are hungry my love, eat.” He gestures again and your stomach sinks. “Oh come now, no need to be coy with me my darling, I can feel your hunger.” He smiles not unkindly at what must be a shocked expression. “If it makes you feel any better, he’s the worst sort of person. I can hear it in his mind, believe me, you will be doing this world a favour.” He kisses the back of your hand, soothing. 

“I don’t want to hurt anyone, Max.” Your hands tremble, “I cannot–” The man walks closer and the smell of him almost knocks you off your feet, the thumping is back and you’re horrified to realize it’s his blood. A thunderous sound pounding through his body and through your head, and before you realize what you’re doing, your feet are carrying you to him. 

It felt as though someone else was controlling you, something else entirely had taken over your senses, your limbs.

“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing.” The older man spots you then, his eyes light up with something altogether unwholesome, “What are you doing out this late, and all alone?” His eyes rake over your body in a way that would have scared you had you not been so focused on the sound his blood was making. 

“So… hungry…” You barely heard yourself over the sound of his heart, barely saw anything but the seemingly glowing network of veins in his skin, all of it a gorgeous lace pattern. 

“What’s that sugar-” He didn’t get to finish his question. Something in your body, something in your very being sprung out, a sudden, awful ache bloomed in your upper jaw before you bit into the salty flesh of his neck, piercing the brightest, thickest vein. 

Euphoria. 

Your body was curled around him, fingers digging into his arms, clutching him ever closer, your fingers so like the talons of some monstrous bird of prey.

He was silent as you took your fill, pull after pull of what tasted like the thickest, most delicious wine. 

“That’s enough my love, not too much.” Firm, strong hands managed to break your hold on the man much too soon. “You cannot drain him. I know, I know.” He soothed your pained expression, wiped at your mouth with his thumb, sticking it into his mouth with a sharp smile. “Believe me, it’s better to stay hungry than to kill outright. Could make you very sick. Come–let's go home.” He fussed at your clothes for a moment before dragging the man over to a bench. You glanced back at him as Max led you away, to anyone walking by, he was just some tired, old man—resting alone.

The walk back to his home was only slightly easier to handle, the sounds, the smells, the cloying press was almost tolerable now that your stomach was full. 

“Here we are, just here.” The house is much bigger than you’d anticipated, grand, but still tasteful. Years worth of ivy had already conquered most of the facade, giving it a cottage-like appeal and drawing your eye as he guided you inside. “The sun will be up soon, we must get into bed.” 

“Why?” Your eyes roamed throughout the space, noting the almost clinical cleanliness of the place. The rug under your feet, perfectly laid, cushions on the settee without a single sign of ever having been sat on. 

“Well, because the sun would kill us, my love.” He says it offhand, making your eyes widen at the back of his head. “We are impervious to almost everything, except that.” He opens a set of double doors at the top of the stairs and what greets you stops you in your tracks, eyes wide and full of terror. 

“Max, why is there a massive coffin in here?” You stand at the door, frozen in place. 

“Come now, there is nothing to be afraid of, it is where I sleep, where we will sleep–until I purchase you your own.” He smiles, his hands smoothing the worry on your face away with a welcome tenderness. “Believe me, once you get in, you will sleep just as soundly as you ever have in a regular bed, I promise you.” He pulls your gaze from the morbid thing to his own eyes, and in them you cannot help but find comfort, and honesty. 

“Promise?” You press yourself a little closer and he smiles, nodding before placing a cool kiss to your forehead.

“Of course, come–we haven't much time.” He places another quick kiss at your brow before starting to undress. You follow suit and once completely nude, he opens the box and lays in it, opening his arms to you. You hesitate for a second, but get in just the same, he closes the lid and plunges you both in complete, and utter darkness. 

 “That’s my good girl, are you comfortable?” There is just enough room to fit into one another's arms, even with your heightened senses–it is difficult to make out anything within the confined space. 

“Yes, there’s not much room, but I’m okay.” You scoot as close as you can, your face pressed into the crook of his neck. “Have you always slept here?” Your hand rests against his chest, just as his strokes at the skin of your back as best as he can. 

“Yes, since I was turned.” He moves his face, and finds your lips in the dark. “It’s nice to have you in here with me.” He kisses every inch of your face he can reach. Soft, chaste kisses that make you smile, until he deepens it. His tongue tastes sweet but you pull away before it can turn into anything more just yet. You smile when he chases your mouth. 

“Max-“ He finds your mouth again, cutting off your words and replacing them with a moan, “Max, tell me what you’ve done to me.” Your fingers thread through the short crop of his hair as he moves his kisses to your neck, to the base of your throat, and further still to the stiff peaks of your breasts. You bite your tongue as he takes on into his mouth, managing to distract you for a moment. 

He hums around a nipple, biting at it before soothing it with his tongue. You don’t know how, but you find your voice amid this assault.

“Max, tell me—oh-“ he manages to get you on your back within the small space, manages to squeeze himself between your legs and before he can distract you with his tongue again, you yank his hair back, silently relishing the deep groan he gifts you with. “Focus Max, I need you to answer my questions, I am at a loss and very confused.” You stroke the place where you yanked at his hair, “Please, Max, I need to know what you’ve done to me.” 

“I have made you into something else, something more. I have turned you into a vampire like me. Now we can be together forever.” He presses another kiss to your mouth, once again chaste. “You are neither dead, nor alive. You simply exist, as I do. You will need blood to sustain you, and a coffin at night to sleep in. You will never grow old, you will never get sick-“ he presses kisses to your neck between his words, “-you need never fear anything, and with me, you will never want for anything, ever again.”

“I am… not myself anymore?”

“You are more, you are better, you are at your full potential. You are mine, and I am yours. Neither of us ever need be alone again.” 

It was almost too much to bear, the change you now felt so keenly. His weight on top of you was nothing, the difference in your senses, the difference in your body, it was all almost too much and for a moment you thought you might drown in it.

“Peace, my love, be at peace.” He heard the sob crawl out of your throat, the emotion of it all getting the better of you. With an awkward shuffle you were in his arms again, weeping into the skin of his neck. “I know it is a big change, but I am here to guide you through it.” 

There were many and more questions you needed answered, but there would be more than enough time for that later. Eventually, the darkness of the space, the feel of him wrapped around you, the comfort in the steady sweep of his hands on your skin lulled you into just what he’d promised it would; warm, comfortable and dreamless sleep.

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #max phillips #maxxy #maxxy baby #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips x f!reader #bloodsucking bastards #bloodsucking bastards au #max x reader #max p x reader

[binkyisonline]

✨girl dinner✨

Suddenly in love with a crack-ship with nine fan fictions (including one of my own, if you want to read it https://archiveofourown.org/works/48900415 🙈) and I can't stop thinking about them 🤡

#scream 2 #bloodsucking bastards au #max phillips #mickey altieri #pedro pascal characters #timothy olyphant #digital art #digital painting #vampires loves young psychopaths #daily fan art

[boredzillenial]

Day 6: of @flightlessangelwings fawktober!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——————

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

#fawktober2023 #max phillips #blood sucking bastards #pedro pascal characters #max phillips fanfiction #vampire #werewolf #a/b/o fic #a/b/o fanfic #a/b/o au #max phillips fic #blood sucking bastards fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction

[pintsizemama]

Decorate the Tree

Day 3

Summary: It’s your first official Christmas with your four lovers, and you want it to be special.

Pairings: Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Oberyn Martell, Dave York, & Max Phillips x You, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Oberyn Martell, Dave York, & Max Phillips x Female Reader

Fandom: Triple Frontier, Game of Thrones, The Equalizer 2, & Bloodsucking Bastards

Rating: Mature

Warnings: reference to drinking blood (vampire), polyamorous relationship

Word Count: 743

A/N: This is a continuation of Surprise Trip from the 2021 Christmas Writing Challenge.

Day 2 Day 4 Christmas Masterlist Main Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

You glanced tiredly around your now very cluttered living room. You had spent half the day pulling out Christmas decorations, and then shopping for even more. You were excited. This was the first year you were spending Christmas with all the guys. It had been two years since the five of you hooked up in that hotel room. You had held to the decision to meet regularly for more trysts. For over a year the five of you got together at least monthly—more if you could. Sometimes it wasn’t all four of the men, work and life got in the way, but you hadn’t gone more than a few weeks without seeing at least one of them.

After that first year something shifted. Deeper feelings developed, and you all realized you wanted this to be a more permanent arrangement. Basically, a guy at work started to show interest, and you told the guys. You had no interest in your coworker, but you never kept secrets from these men, so you let them know someone was pursuing you while out to dinner one night. They all went very still and quiet. You knew they discussed it when you excused yourself to go to the bathroom because when you went back to Oberyn’s house, they immediately proposed a plan.

They hated the idea of anyone else with you. You were theirs. So, despite all four men being devout bachelors, they committed to you right then and there. A few months ago you all moved in together, and it was absolute bliss.

Oberyn and Dave didn’t have their kids this year for the holidays, so you wanted to make it extra special to take their minds off not being with their children…hence the decoration overload currently inhabiting your living room.

“Holy shit,” a deep male voice startled you from your thoughts. You turned to see Max and Santi had arrived home.

“Oh, thank God you’re here!” You exclaimed in relief. You kissed them both in greeting.

“What happened in here?” Max asked.

“I need your help,” you began. “I want to get this all sorted and the tree up before Oberyn and Dave get home. Then we can all decorate the tree together.”

“You know what? I’m not even gonna ask,” Santi chuckled. “Just tell me what you need me to do.” A little over an hour later the three of you had made a lot of progress. The tree was up and almost everything was organized.

“I’m gonna order some dinner,” Santi said as he glanced at his watch. “They’ll be home soon, and I’m sure they’ll be as hungry as we are.”

“Good idea,” you agreed.

“Max, you eating what we’re having or…something else?” Santi asked.

“I’ll eat with you guys,” he answered. His hot gaze fell on you. “I’ll have ‘something else’ for dessert.” You shivered in anticipation. Max didn’t always feed off of you. He was afraid of going too far and hurting you. But when he did, it felt so damn good. You felt strong arms wrap around you from behind.

“Would you like that, sweet cheeks?” Max whispered in your ear. He ran his nose up the side of your neck. “You want me to suck on this beautiful throat later?”

“Mmm, yes please,” you moaned. Just then you heard the front door open. Dave and Oberyn walked in, their eyes widening slightly at the scene before them.

“Wow,” Oberyn said. “You’ve been busy.” Max dropped his arms so you could rush forward to greet the others. After kissing them both you stepped back and surveyed them. They looked tired, but relieved to be home.

“Are you guys up for some tree trimming?” You asked.

“Of course, baby girl,” Dave said as Oberyn nodded. You clapped in excitement.

“Yay!” You cheered. “This is going to be so much fun.”

“Dinner’s ordered and on the way!” Santi called out. You assigned tasks to everyone, and the five of you got to work. Elf played on the tv and in no time at all the tree was done. Dinner arrived, and you decided to eat in the family room so you could admire the tree. You all sat on floor around the coffee table while you enjoyed dinner.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Your life had changed so much in the last 2 years, and you couldn’t wait to see how much better it would get.

Day 4

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@alexxavicry @amneris21 @awhitewyvern @burrito-stuffs @dreedhudson @fatimaisabelpascal @gioispunk @greeneyedblondie44 @harriedandharassed @hayley-the-comet @hnt-escape @just-here-for-the-moment @kirsteng42 @loompyinaway @maxwell--lord @mishasminion360 @mswarriorbabe80 @my-sweetheart1776 @peach-child @pedrostories @sherala007 @stevie75 @wakaladjarin @xocalliexo @emilianamason @holb32 @mendes-bae @mymindfuckery @nobody @slyterinstuff @trinkets01 @wildmoonflower @wanderlustnightwanderer @wildmoonflower

#Pedro pascal #triple frontier #oscar isaac #bloodsucking bastards #game of thrones #au #equalizer 2 #Dave york #Oberyn martell #santiago pope garcia #max phillips #polyamorous #poly fic #fluff

[misspearly1]

Day Fifteen: Monster Fucking - Max Phillips

Kinktober List

WC: 3.4K Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Blood Sucking Bastards AU. Blood drinking, mutual blood drinking. Smut. Mentions of One-night stand sex. Unprotected PIV monster sex. (Everything's bigger). Oral (F receiving). Sweet, fluffy ending. AN: As you will see in the warnings, it's an AU, therefore this story takes place within the movie. I just changed some things up to give Max and reader a happy ending. Hope you enjoy, my loves ❤️

-

Creeping across the office floor towards the restroom, you place your ear to the door and eavesdrop on the conversation taking place inside. Curiosity got the better of you when seeing Max, Evan, Ted, the janitor and the security guard marching inside. 

“No, no, no, no, I, I,” You hear Evan panicking within, “I am telling you, this stall, was a fucking horror show!” He yells. 

“Evan,” Max chimes in, and you feel the muscles tugging on your lips with a smile, “This isn’t some way of stalling on the Fallo Site presentation, is it?” 

“W-what? What-no!” Evan barks, eliciting Ted to question if he is ready or not and reminding him that it’s due by tomorrow. You see what Max did there, see the distraction he created from the real problem at hand. Evan was right, it was a real horror show in that bathroom stall. You saw it with your own eyes last night when catching a vampire in the act - Jerry, the janitor. 

However, Jerry was not always a vampire, in fact, he’s only just been turned, and you knew who did it right away. Max. You weren’t afraid as you had actually met Max several months prior in a nightclub where you both clicked instantly, and he took you back to his place for a one-night stand. Which was the best one-night stand of your life. 

The man showed you the beautiful side of being a vampire, the powerful pleasure he can inflict in the bedroom that has ultimately ruined sex for you because now no one else can do it better than Max does. Well, no human can. You spent a long while after that night yearning to see him again, pining for his touch, but he vanished. You couldn’t find him in the nightclub when you went back to look. 

As the months passed, you slowly got over your night of passion with the vampire and although it sucked, you forgot about it. Until he showed up at your work yesterday out of nowhere to be the new sales manager. You hoped Max was here for you, but you knew that he was going to wreak havoc as well. It’s what vampires do, right? 

Yesterday, you only had one brief moment alone with Max and he asked one simple question; do you want to stay here at this job or go for something bigger and better in life? You wanted the latter, with all your heart and every bone in your body, you wanted something bigger and better in life, but only if it meant he was accompanying you on this adventure. Which he was. 

Max told you to head home and act natural in the next couple of days at work while he empties the accounts in the company. Turning the workers into vampires and causing misery for Evan is the distraction for something else. Max searched for you after that one-night stand and was unsure about reaching out because vampires and humans don’t tend to mix very well, but when he found out that you work with Evan, he saw it as a sign; get the girl and one last act of revenge. 

Now, you sit in his office chair in a seductive position, awaiting his return. You purposely wore a sexier work outfit today, only because Max is here. If it was anyone else, you wouldn’t have put that effort in, but because it’s his eyes looking you up and down, you wear something more revealing and provocative. The shirt you have on is long sleeved and skintight, tucked into your little black draped skirt. 

You popped the top three buttons open on your shirt and leaned back into his chair; one leg kicked over the other with your stiletto heels left by the door. And when he entered his office, almost tripping over them, he looked up at you with a devilish smirk on his lips. “Oh my.” He makes a surprised sound. “I thought I told you to act natural, toots.” 

“What? And not act out my fantasy of fucking the boss in the office?” You retort, tilting your head to one side. It was a fantasy of yours, but no job in the past, or this one for that matter, even had a boss that you wanted to fuck. Until Max became the sales manager. You knew you had his attention from the way he closed the door behind him then locked it. 

“Is that so, angel?” He asks, to which you nod innocently with a bashful smile. “Over the desk?” He asks another question while shaking off his jacket and loosening his tie. Max held your line of sight, both of your smiles never fading from your faces as he continued to undress slowly. 

“H-hm,” You nod, then look at his sofa along the wall. “Over there too.” You jerk your chin outwards in suggestion, which makes him chuckle and bite his lip before looking over to the window. “Hell, why not up against the window as well?” He proposes. 

“Every surface, Max.” You whisper in a sultry sweet voice, squeezing your thighs together. “I want you to fuck me on every surface in this office.” 

“Oh, it will be my pleasure, baby.” The man growls while opening up his shirt, muscles flexing underneath as he slips his arms out of the sleeves and drops the item of clothing to the floor. “Gotta be quiet though,” He teases, “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear what we’re doing in here and ask questions.” 

“Well, we both know that’s going to be a struggle.” You laugh as he walks towards you. Moving around the desk and sitting on the edge, he pulls your chair between his legs and leans in. You blush under his gaze then your back arches into as he closes the gap and kisses your lips. Max slowly slides his tongue inside your mouth and slips his hand around the base of your neck, urging you up off the chair. 

Now that you were standing up between his legs, he kicked the chair away and lowered his hands to the back of your thighs, grabbing handfuls to pull you into him. You break the kiss and toss your head back with a gasp, feeling the sharpness of his fangs grazing along your neck. 

“M-Max.” You whimper his name softly and grip his shoulders when he sinks into your skin. “Fuck!” You pant and wince through the initial sting, then relax when feeling him suck your blood. It felt soothing, like your energy was slowly draining away, making you feel lightheaded and woozy. Then, he pulls his head back and bites into his wrist before holding it near your mouth with a request. “Drink. It’ll stop you from passing out, toots.” 

You were hesitant at first, Max never did this with you before, but you were curious. It wasn’t giving off the usual metallic smell, it was sweet instead. Leaning in and placing an experimental lick, you moan with the flavours bursting on your tongue. His blood was ice cold and smooth, sweet like honey, only not as thick. 

“There you go, that’s it.” He whispers praise as you seal your lips over his wrist and gulp back mouthfuls of his blood. You almost want to roll your eyes into the back of your head, to lose yourself in the flavour, but a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins stops you. You pull away with a shrieking inhale and literally feel the irises of your eyes expanding with ecstasy. 

“Holy shit, what was that?” You ask, intrigued. Heartbeat thrumming in your ears, you felt strong, like you could level a fucking building kind of strong and it makes Max chuckle. Pleased with your reaction to drinking his blood for the very first time, he looks at your neck and watches the puncture holes on your neck heal with a proud smile on his lips. 

“My blood, toots,” He begins, gazing back into your eyes. “Is something special, it gives you a sample of my power.” 

“I feel high.” You giggle, and the giggles just keep coming and coming. Max smiles and laughs with you, but when you were getting a little loud, he closed the gap again and silenced you with a kiss. Then, the surge of arousal that flooded your core was so mighty and powerful, that you could only describe it like a dam had been opened up. Everything was amped up a couple notches. His touch felt amazing, yet it was so minimal.

“Max, please.” You mumble a plea between strokes of his tongue, then gasp when feeling his tongue slide down your throat. Leaning back onto the table and pulling you with him, he breaks from the kiss then pushes you up his body until you are hovering over his face. The last thing you saw was Max holding a finger to his lips, reminding you to stay quiet, before pulling your skirt over his head. You clench with anticipation, waiting for what’s to come. 

“Oh.” You make a surprised sound as Max licks along your inner thigh. You weren’t even sitting down fully, therefore it makes you wonder just how long his tongue can reach. Makes you quiver with desire at the thought of it inside of you. Still hovering above his head as he continues to lick along your thighs, but never actually touching where you want most, the ache in your knees grew worse from the position you were kneeling on the tabletop and Max could sense this. 

He held your hips and pulled down to sit on his face, the action making you lose your balance and hold onto his hands. You arch your back with a stifled moan as buries his face into your cunt, inhaling your scent through the damp fabric of your pranties. “M-Max,” You stutter quietly, “Please, don’t tease me anymore. I need you.” 

“Need me or my tongue,” He growls into your pussy, the deep vibrations of his voice driving you over the edge with desperation. “Which is it, toots?” He chuckles, clearly amused with your neediness. You want his tongue; you want to feel the wet muscle sliding inside of you. 

“Your tongue.” You reply, squeezing his hands on your hips reassuringly. The man returns the comforting gesture and doesn’t waste any more time playing with you. Removing one of his hands from your side, you see the sharpness of his clawed fingers dip under your skirt. Your heart beating in your ears, you hear your panties being ripped in half. Max was ever so careful to not nick your skin while tearing the item of clothing. 

“Oh God.” You sigh breathily upon feeling his tongue lick up your cunt, his real tongue. Sucking on your clit and drawing out hushed whines from your lips, your hips bucked from the pleasure, unintentionally coming across as a plea for more. You didn’t mean to, but you weren’t disappointed with how he answered. Humming contentedly as he moves down to your entrance, drooling with your desire, you toss your head back when feeling his tongue slide inside. 

“Oh fuck.” You blurt. Bringing your hand up to your mouth quickly, you can hear the usual office chatter outside and struggle to keep quiet. Just like you said it would. You roll your hips into his thick, wet appendage as he buries it deeper. He strokes your g-spot, striking pleasure in your abdomen and the tension begins to build. 

Writhing above him from the twirling sensation he was inflicting, your moans are muffled by the back of your hand, a sound ringing through his mind as praise. Max removes his tongue and slides it back inside, then repeats that action over and over again, literally fucking you with it. It felt amazing, but not nearly as good as his dick does. He’s firmer down there; firm, girthy and long, an impressive size for an impressive man. 

“Shit. Don’t stop, don’t stop.” You babble in a whisper, “I’m gonna cum.” Warning him of your orgasm, he hums deeply in return, lapping up the sweetness of your pussy. Your skin was burning up, like you were on fire, and your climax was approaching quicker than you expected. And it was magnificent. 

Rocking your hips back and forth on his face, you fall apart and see stars behind your eyes. Your pussy clenching around his tongue that was softly stroking your walls, prolonging your high as long as he could, your ears rang, and your legs shook with the pleasure rolling across your whole entire body. Max pulled out as you slowly came down from the peak of your orgasm and you looked down to pull your skirt away from his face, gasping as if you were afraid. 

“Look at you, Max.” You say, biting your lip. His eyes were completely blacked out with lust and hunger. Dark red veins webbed across his face and his fangs glistened with your desire as he held his mouth open, maintaining your eye contact while sliding his tongue back inside of you. “Fuck, fuck!” You cry, and he chuckles. 

Dropping your skirt to clamp a hand over your mouth again, Max made you come on his tongue another three times before he was satisfied that you’ve had enough and normally you would be completely spent at this point, and in great need of a long rest before having another orgasm, but it’s evident that his blood had worked its magic in boosting your stamina. You were hungry for more, desperate to feel his cock stretch you open. 

Now laying down on the desk with your ankles by Max’s ears, he didn’t like how far away he was from your face and decided to lean down, bending your body to his will. “Hm, so flexible.” He teases as you lift your head off the desk to meet him halfway. “I like that, princess.” 

“M-hm.” You hum into a kiss on his lips, then moan when feeling his dick sliding through your folds. He grinds against you, using your slick to lube himself up and to provide pleasure by rubbing your clit with the tip of his cock. The sensation was delightful, but not nearly enough. You wanted more and needed to feel him open you up. “Maxie.” You bat your eyelashes and pout.

“You ready for me, toots?” He asks, oh so kindly. Though it was considerate of him, the smirk on his lips said it all. Max was enjoying every second of this, knowing that the stretch is going to be phenomenal as everything is a little bigger when he’s fully transformed into the monster that resides within. “Yes.” You nod and hold onto his biceps with a shaly exhale. 

You’ve had sex with Max when he is bigger like this before, but it’s been a long while since then and he took hours working you open. The weight of his cock is most impressive. You could feel the heaviness of it resting against your lower stomach before he pulls his hips back and lines himself up without using his hands. “Tell me when to stop, princess.” He whispers and when you nod again, he pushes the tip inside. 

“Fuuuck!” Your mouth falls open with a pained groan slipping out. “Don’t stop.” You shake your head, reassuring him that it’s okay to continue. Removing his hands from your calves, he holds them behind your head instead and interlocks his fingers together, using the extra help as leverage to push inside. It stung as he stretched you open, but not nearly as bad as you remembered it to be the first time. It was like your muscles remembered and relaxed to let him in all the way. 

“Fuck me - Y/N.” He grunts as quietly as he can be when bottoming out, choking for words to express how he feels. You couldn’t decide what was hotter, feeling his cock open you up, or hearing him fall apart from the first thrust inside. The man looked absolutely wrecked, brows pulled together with focus, lips forming the shape of an ‘o’, and you had even started yet. 

You watch as Max looks down at your body, his mouth falling open with a delectable sounding gasp at the little bump in your lower stomach. “Holy shit, would you look at that,” he says while admiring the sight. “Look at how well you're taking me, toots.” 

“Move, Max - please.” You whine, digging your fingernails into his skin. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the desperation on your face that pulls on strings of his cold heart, then let's go of his hands behind your head carefully to hold onto your hip. Pulling himself out halfway and drinking in the beautiful sight of your face, he surges forward again and buries himself the the hilt, lapping up all the noises you make. 

“Yes! Just like th-” You begin to moan out loudly, but his hand clamping over your mouth muffles the sound. His eyes widened, as did yours, and you both focused on the noise outside the office, hoping that you weren’t heard by anyone. It’s not a big deal if you were, but no one knows about you and Max. No one knows that you’ve met him before, and they might question why you didn’t mention that you have. 

After you were satisfied that no one heard, Max smirks with sweet, amused chuckles slipping past his lips. “Shh,” He whispers, “Not so loud, toots.” Pulling your legs apart and wrapping them around his waist instead, he rests his weight down onto your chest evenly before fucking you at a slow and deep pace. 

Each roll of his hips made you whimper and moan. He was so deep inside it felt like he was in your stomach. You rest your cheek to his shoulder, finally feeling the human effects of sexual exhaustion kicking in. Scratching at his back and even drawing blood, you clamp around him so tight that it causes his movements to falter. “Max, I’m close.” You mewl directly into his ear. 

“I got you, sweetheart.” He reassures, cupping the base of your neck and holding you close to his chest. He’s never called you sweetheart before; it was making you feel emotions that you didn’t think you’d feel from a simple word. Sweetheart. It was so comforting and compassionate, coming from a man that is ice cold and dead. B

Broken moans breathed against his neck, his wide frame crowded you so much that it muffled any and all noises you made. The sweat rolled down your temple, making your cheek stick to his skin as you fell apart yet again. “I-Inside.” You whisper tiredly upon feeling Max reaching his peak. It’s in his voice, the way he grunted so deeply and wildly, in his movements too, the way his hips were stuttering with each thrust as you clenched hard, and when you pulled your head back to look in his eyes, you watched the man see stars. 

“Oh fuck, fuck. I’m cumming,” He groans defeatedly, as if he were disappointed for not lasting longer. “Shit! You’re so tight.” He sobs, eyebrows pulling together with focus as he releases ropes upon ropes of seed. There was so much, you could feel it spreading inside and some of it even dripping out of your cunt. 

Sealing his lips over yours in a bruising, passionate kiss, they spoke the words that he couldn't at that moment. It spoke of love and devotion, a spark from a one-night stand blossoming into so much more, blossoming into something special. Max had found something special with you. And from the way he kissed you, it’s like he never wanted to let that go. 

After he came down from his sensational high, Max cleaned you up and took care of your every little need. The man lifted you up into his arms and lay you down on his sofa, knowing that the effects of his blood had since worn off, you were exhausted and needed rest. He used his suit jacket to cover you as there was nothing else, then after planting a sweet, loving kiss to your forehead, he promised to return after you sleep. 

Nodding, your fingers lingered on his as he moved away until they were gone. Your eyes closed and sleep took over like a tidal wave. You couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to, it was too strong. Max spent a moment gazing at your sleeping form, his eyes roaming the expanse of your beauty laying on the sofa, picturing you laying on a lavish looking bed in a castle. That’s where he plans to take you, where your new adventurous life awaits - 

Your own castle in Transylvania, only the best for his princess.

-

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#Max Phillips #max phillips fic #max phillips fanfiction #blood sucking bastards au #max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x female reader #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips x fem!reader #max phillips x you #max phillips smut #max phillips fluff #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pearlyfics #follow 👑 share ❤️ enjoy 🍑 #enjoyreaders #tppkinktober2022 #starsandskieskinktober #Miss Pearls Kinktober 22

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Teaser for Chapter One of Blood Money

[MAx Phillips x Reader x Dave york Vampire Mafia AU]

Hopefully have this out in the next day or so! I'm so excited for this!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #max phillips x you #max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x ofc #bloodsucking bastards #bloodsucking freaks #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips smut #dave york #equalizer 2 #pedro pascal fandom #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #the equalizer #vampire au #vampire mafia #vampire mafia au #tw: vampire #tw: violence #tw: abuse #tw: blood #tw: biting #tw: vampires

[intheorangebedroom]

You know what @fuckyeahdindjarin ?

I’m still thinking about this Max Phillips x reader x Frankie Morales / TF AU, in which the TF boys are the strong arm of an ancient secret society of vampire killers. I really might dive into that.

And you know why? Because it’s another opportunity to kill stfu Tom 😁😁😁

Bonus:

#there will be blood and it will mostly be Tom’s #Mouarfarfarfarfarf!!!! #<<that’s an evil laugh in French #frankie morales #triple frontier au #max phillips

[boliv-jenta]

More of Us

Part 5

Series masterlist

Joel Miller x f!reader (in spirit in this chapter)

This has sat in WIPs since Halloween because I don't love it. I feel like I overshot a fun diversion and went full crack fic. We're all about to be destroyed by Pedro's Joel so maybe we need a bit of absurdity.🤷‍♀️

Warnings: Swearing. Blood. Gore.

"Nope. No. Just no. No fucking way. "The vampire looked at you confused.

"What? What am I missing here?" He eyed you like he didn't know what to make of you.

"No. I just got the news that I may not be completely out of my mind, that the man I thought was from my video game, well, it was the other way round, the video game came from him. I am not ready to believe that Max Phillips exists." Pushing passed him you walked over to the desk, leaning on it your wrapped your arms around yourself in comfort. Trying desperately not to look at the remnants of your captures on the floors, and walls, and ceiling.

"My reputation proceeds me I see." He wore the smuggest smirk you have ever seen.

"No. You are a character from a movie. A vampire comedy. A fungal infection that caused 'zombie like' behaviour? There's a scientific basis for that. That I can accept, but you are trying to tell me that out there somewhere magical vampires exist? Bullshit." With that, Max sunk his fangs into your arm. 

"Ow!" You snatched your arm away from him.

"Did that feel real enough?" He deadpanted.

"Will I become a vampire now?" Panic flowed in your voice. 

"No! It doesn't work like that!" He sounded almost affronted by your lack on knowledge about his kind.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't read the vampire operating manual." He grinned at your sark, showing off that gorgeous smile."How do you even look like him?"

"Like who?" Max asked leaning on the desk next to you.

"The guy who plays you in my world. Even if someone saw you in your world then wrote about it. How did they find someone who looks exactly like you to play you? It's not like a lot of guys look like Pedro Pascal. I know, I've looked." You sighed.

Max chuckled. "Pedro Pascal?"

"Yeah."

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal?" 

"Yes?" 

"That's me."

"What?!"

"That's my name. I changed it. It's hard to get employed by old white men with a name like that on your CV." The vampire bit was ludicrous but the institutional racism was totally believable.

"So these worlds have doppelgangers. I wonder if I'm in your world." You mused.

"I haven't seen you there. I'd remember a pretty little thing like you." He lowered his voice, that voice, all deep and smooth. It was already alluring so you had no idea if he was trying to glamour you or not. Either way it was not happening."You are not flirting with me right now!"

"What? You can't blame a man for tryin', Gorgeous." He winked, actually winked.

"We're trapped in a...whatever the hell this place is, you're covered in blood and..." you flickered your hand towards his body.

"What?" 

"You're naked...and....very 'happy'."

"What can I say? When the blood starts flowing, the blood starts flowing." He stood proudly adopting 'the stance.' 

You had a weird thing for Max's overgrown frat boy persona in fanfiction. Up close, it wasn't as appealing, even though the man himself was. Even covered in blood the sight of him naked was something to behold.

This was all just too much. You were worried for Joel and Ellie. Terrified for your own wellbeing, especially as you'd just been mouthing off to a man who could kill you with a flick of his wrist. Your whole world view was messed up. Everything you thought was fantasy could potentially be reality. It was strange that offered a little comfort, knowing that potentially anything was possible gave this new world a logic to it.

"Are you just going to sit there?" Max's tone was thoroughly bored. "I'd like to get out of here. There's another corridor back there by were I was held. I used to hear them talking about it. I think that's where they brought us through."

"Through?"

"Yeah, some sort of portal."

"A portal? Of course there's a portal. Maybe we're on a spaceship or a helicarrier. Maybe there's a dragon guarding it!" Hysteria started to grip you.

"Maybe." He shrugged. Seeing that you still weren't moving he tried to reason with you. "Look, Sweetheart, I was a normal man once then I turned into a vampire. I didn't tantrum or sulk about it. I used it to my advantage."

"I'm not sulking." You insisted over you pouted bottom lip.

"I'm going if you want to come with me get moving. If not..." he turned and stomped away. 

All broad shoulders, muscular back, leading to...."I'll come with you if you put some pants on."

"Fair. We wouldn't want you getting distracted." He shot you a Cheshire Cat grin before heading out into the corridor. When you caught up to him he was wearing pants...that he had pulled off a pair of legs. The violence you had seen and committed in Joel's world had shocked you, turned your stomach. Yet the two legs on the floor didn't even seem real to you, they were like some macabre Halloween decoration. That and the absurdity of the situation made it so much easier to compartmentalise. Just keep going. The 'decorations' didn't get any lighter towards Max's cell. Body parts were strewn everywhere. Some bodies were frozen in the instant of their deaths, faces contorted in fear or pain, or both. They looked pale and drawn. 

Max saw you staring. "They starved me. I was half delirious. Plus, it was them or me."

He did what he had to. Not too dissimilar from Joel.

"It's just around this corner." He pointed. 

"Wait." You tiptoed over two more corpses. On the belt of one of them was a security pass. It read 'Level 5', you hoped that was the highest they went. Standing back up you took a moment to think about Joel. You wished he was here. You longed for his steady presence, strong and reassuring at your side. Part of you wished he was here to be proud of you. To watch you use the skills you had picked up from him. With everything going on it was a silly thought. Trying to impress the handsome man while trying to escape with your life. A smile tugged at your lips. Joel was open about how you were making him a little dumb, you hadn't realised how much he was affecting you. Here you were practically biting your lip and twirling your hair while up to your knees in gore.

The sudden bang on the door next to you had you flying almost into Max's arms. His hand lingered on your lower back as you recovered from the shock and moved away from him. Transfixed by the face in the round window, you moved slowly back towards it. The face was feral, framed by a thick coat of hair. It's harsh breaths fogging up the glass. It's sharp teeth scraping against it.

"Jack?" You barely whispered.

Max's hearing still picked it up. "He a friend of yours? Or is he from another video game. Like Nintendogs?"

"No." Your tone was suitable incredulous, until it had to trail off for the rest of the sentence. "He's from a Halloween special."

Max laughed heartily. "Of course he is!"

Ignoring him you carried on. "He's human in there, somewhere. We can't let him out like that though. Jack? Jack Russell?"

Max completely lost it. "Jack Russell?!" He laughed out.

Ignoring Max's guffawing you turned to Jack. "Jack? Can you understand me? We can get you out but you need to turn back. Can you do that?" The creature tilted it's head at you. It's eyes, that held so much humanity, flickered in recognition. Raising your hand slowly you lay it on the glass between the two of you, only to be frightened out of your wits by the werewolf trying to bite you.

"Guess he doesn't want his belly rubbed. Can we go now?" Max tapped his foot impatiently.

"I'll come back for you." The dejected promise was drowned out by the sound of boots hitting the concrete floor. Up ahead four soldiers spilled out of a door, taking up a tight formation, they advanced.

"The vampire is expendable. Don't kill the woman." One of them ordered. 

Without thinking you put yourself in front of Max. One of his hands spread across your stomach pulling you flush to him. "I didn't know you cared, Toots." His lips brushed your ears as he spoke, sending a shiver down your spine.

With his free hand, he grabbed the belt of one of the dead bodies on the floor, hurling it at the soldiers. Knocking them all to the ground. One of them squeezed the trigger of his gun on instinct as he went down. Bullets sunk into the wall next to them as Max spun you around. With your hands braced on his broad, bare chest and his full lips inches from your face. He turned you both to prove you cover with his broad form. In the heat of the moment, your body betrayed you. A rush of arousal flooded you. Max subtlety sniffed the air, his eyes darkening before he pulled away from you. Lightening fast he snapped the necks of the first two as they begged for their lives. The other soldiers had remained on the ground, one was on his radio, begging for back up. Max crushed the radio along with the man's hand. His howls of pain spurred you to act. "Max! Stop. Don't kill them."

Max's muscles strained to keep him in place. Warring with his own killer instinct, he growled at himself before knocking the guy's head against the wall.  The fourth soldier, a guy barely out of his teens, was muttering a pray under his breath. As Max turned towards him, snarling and barely containing his rage, the young man finally got himself together enough to raise his gun. Max made a grab for it but the soldier got off a couple of shots. One grazed Max's arm. With a pained groan, he raised his arm, bringing his fist down towards the man's head, hard. His fist came to a stop just before it made contact, grabbing the man's head and slamming it against the wall, knocking him unconscious.

Max's attention turned to you. His pupils were blown, inhuman growls rose from his chest. He stalked towards you.

"Max?" Your voice quivered as he drew nearer.

When he finally stood inches from you his perfectly angled nose brushed your hair, sniffing as he went. His hand wrapped around the side of your neck, pulling he tilted your head to the side. Fear gripped you tighter than his hand. You'd put your trust in him to help you get back to Joel. Now he was going to drink you dry. Stupid fucking mistake. Still with a vice like grip on your neck, his thumb came up to swipe your lips. Then he moved it away to replace it with his own lips. A different type of hunger evident in his movements, his tongue laved at yours. His hands held you close. Partly with confusion, you gave it to you baser instincts for a brief moment, allowing him to kiss you.

"Stop!" You pushed him off. "Stop!"

"Sorry, Honey. If I don't satisfy that killer urge it comes out as other urges to satisfy." He grinned, looking not sorry at all. "It was your call, Sweetcheeks. I was fine with killing. The bastards tortured me for weeks." A glimmer of vulnerability breeched Max's cocky surface.

Rounding the corner, another two guards with guns came into view. They hadn't gone running off like the others, they were clearly staying in place for a reason, guarding something in the room behind them. The room with a retinal scanner on it, as opposed to just a key card. Another big hint that something in there was important.

"We need to get in there." You whispered. 

Max surged forward, snapping the neck of one of the guards before they could shoot.

"Max!" You groaned in frustration.

"Oh, right, sorry." Max grabbed the next guard by his gun, keeping it firmly pointed to the floor.

"Let us in!" He growled. Before looking at you."Please."

"No." The guard spat in Max's face.

"Well, I tried." Max punched his fist through the guard's chest, hauling him around like a macabre puppet, he shoved his face at the scanner. Another moment that you'd need to shove back into the dark recesses of your brain. Bile rose in the back of your throat. A slight tremble took over your hands. Just keep pushing forward.

"Identity confirmed" The machine chimed. 

There was a heavy clunk as the door unlocked. With a shrug Max pushed the door wide and waltzed right in, leaving you no choice but to follow.

The room was all white, the walls were padded. It looked like every insane asylum set you had ever seen in a movie. Except they didn't usually have a desk set up with a laptop on it. Creeping closer to the desk, you looked at Max then the door, he followed your eyes. Getting your message he moved back to guard the door. 

The laptop was unlocked, a word document sat open on it. 'The ravenous undead creature tore through the flesh of his captors. Exsanguinating some, eviscerating others. With his thirst for blood sated, he craved vengeance in it's stead. Finding the man responsible for his incarceration, his claws slid through his abdomen like a hot knife through butter. The man didn't even have time to register his impending death before it seized him. 

That's when the vampire found her, huddled in the corner. He knew instantly that she was not of this world either. The quickly formed an alliance, determined to escape back to their own worlds. They made quite a team, her brilliant mind guiding his brute strength. Using her knowledge and her unwavering humanity, they navigated the corridors successfully. The greatest test of her fortitude coming in the form of the vampire's kiss. Almost succumbing to her burning attraction to him, she strengthened her resolve by thinking of Joel. The man she barely knew but had opened up her closed heart to new possibilities. They eventually made it to a white padded cell. Curiosity drove the woman to look at the laptop in the middle of the room. So engrossed in her reading she didn't see him behind her...'

"Shit. Max! Don't do that!" You admonished the vampire for sneaking up on you.

"What? I was bored over there." He peered at the screen. " 'Ravenous undead creature.' Really? This isn't winning a Pulitzer. 'Almost succumbing to her burning attraction to him', I stand corrected."

Shame flooded your cheeks. Trying to sound unaffected you carried on. "Read on. How did they write everything right up until now?" 

"I don't know. I don't know why this reads like a cheap romance novel. I don't what the fuck is going on here!" Max's rant was cut off by the sound of a toilet flushing close by. 

You both froze. Before you could make out where it was coming from, a panel in the wall opened. A head of thick dark curls poked out.

Your sanity took another pounding as you took the man in. "Oscar Isaac?!" Your jaw dropped.

"Who?" Came a very confused, very muddled British accent.

"Erm, Steven Grant?" You tried.

"Yes. W-who are you? No one told me I'd have any visitors today." He wrapped his thick white cardigan tighter around him as he spoke. Underneath he wore plan white scrubs. Plain white plimsolls completed the outfit. The brightest thing in the room was the guards blood Max was casually wiping off on his pants.

"Don't you already know? You wrote about us." You looked towards the laptop.

"No. I wrote about my dreams. Now if you don't mind, I'd like you to leave." He tried to make his voice sound bigger than he felt.

"We're not leaving until we get some answers." Max informed him gruffly.

"I don't have any answers for you so please just go!" He succeeded in bolstering his voice this time.

"I don't have time for this." Max lifted Steven by the collar of his cardigan.

"Max, don't!" Max turned his head to you. 

Then he was almost knocked on his ass by the punch he wasn't expecting. A second one connected with his chin sending him the rest of the way to the floor.

"Marc?" His eyes flicked towards you for a second in recognition of his name but he didn't stop advancing on Max laying prone on the floor. 

"Stop. Please!" You got in between the two of them, pushing against Marc's strong chest.

"Who are you?" His body was tense. Anticipating any movement from you. Years of training honing his reflexes. Years of trauma keeping his nervous system constantly hovering in the realm of fight or flight.

"We were locked up like you. We're here to help." You informed him gently.Marc looked sceptically at Max.

"I'm here to help." You corrected. "He's helping too, I guess."

"Hey, I've been pulling my weight. Or did you want to kill everyone?" Max sneered.

"I didn't want to kill anyone. I told you not to!" You snapped.

"Alright! You two can do your couple therapy somewhere else. Leave me alone." Marc dropped down into his chair.

"We're just trying to get out of here. Do you know more about this?" Moving closer you gestured to the laptop. "Please? I have a family to get home to."

"That's Steven's. He writes it all down."

"It all?"

"The things we see. Well, he writes what he sees."

"You don't see the same things?"

"Steven takes the brunt of it. He protects the mind, I protect the body."

"Don't you want to get out of here?"

"I shouldn't. I've hurt people."

"I'd say." Max held his jaw as you shot him a glare.

"I'll help you get out of here. Just make sure than thing doesn't kill anyone else."

"He won't." You fixed Max with a stare.

"Please?" You tried again.

"Come on then." With Marc in the lead you all turned right back into the corridor. 

"What do you know about this place?" You asked Marc as he moved swiftly ahead of you.

"They bring us here to study what they've done to us. These powers. They have technology to travel between worlds, experimenting and gathering people. From what I can gather there aren't many of them. They're some sort of rebel faction on their world. The Director runs the place."

"Ran the place. I killed him." Max threw in casually.

Marc paused for a second. "Huh, alright then." 

The corridors all looked the same to you but Marc navigated them with ease. An ease you wish you felt. The fact that you hadn't bumped into any more soldiers should be a relief, it only serves to make you suspicious. Suspicions that are confirmed when you round a corner to find a dozen soldiers waiting for you. The three of you barely made it around the corner before all hell broke loose, bullets flew in your direction. One sunk into Marc's shoulder, knocking him behind a desk. Luckily, there were a number of security desks and lockers for you to take cover behind.

"Marc?!" Crawling you made your way to him.

"Mierda." Came a voice that didn't belong to Marc. 

"Jake?" You questioned.

"Hey, Sweetheart. You might wanna keep your head down. Yo, Vampire! Get me a gun." He called in Max's direction. Then he turn back to you. Though the brown of his eyes was colder than Steven's, they still held a flicker of warmth. "We'll push them back so you can get through."

"Wait, you know what's going on?"

"Yeah, I'm always aware, always watching for when they need my help."

A chill ran through you at what Jake's 'help' looked like. He and Max made a good team. If you needed a team of ruthless killers. The bullets continued to shred the cover you were behind. If you didn't do something soon, you were dead. 

"We need more teeth." You uttered before half crawling, half throwing yourself back down the hall.

"Where did she go?" Max called over the sound of gunfire.

"I have no idea. You still up for killing these hijos de perra?" Jake asked.

"Absolutamente." Max ducked out to retrieve a gun, sliding it across the floor for Jake to catch.

Running back down the corridors, hoping you weren't going to run into any more soldiers and that your sense of direction wouldn't fail you, you stopped off in Marc's, or rather Jake's, cell and Max's cells before reaching your destination.

"I'm so sorry Jack. We need your help." You shoved all the clothes you had gathered, including your socks, through the slot in the door. The wolf clawed at them, burying his snout in the box.

"Just don't eat us. Please? Remember us. We'll help you." Grabbing the handle in both hands you yanked the door towards you, sealing yourself in the corner and opening the door wide for Jack. The werewolf sniffed the air. With each breath it...he took, you wondered if it was honing in on you. He took a few stilted steps on two legs before dropping down on all fours. He sniffed closer to the ground, turning his attention towards your hiding place. Hovering for a moment, he stepped closer, couched down beside you. His snorted breath blew through your hair. His claw-like fingernails hooked around the edge of the door. Gripping the handle even tighter, you prepared to cling onto the door for dear life if the werewolf decided to rip it open. Slowly, he pulled the door away from you, with everything that you had you tried to keep the barrier between the two of you. He didn't seem like he wanted to hurt you, more like he was curious. Still you weren't keen to risk it. His pulling on the door became more insistent. Your fingers ached under the strain, the sweat of your palms making holding on that much more difficult. Just as the handle began to slip from your grasp the beast's head whipped around, he gave a low howl before lumbering off in the direction you had come from.

For a short while, you sat there on the floor, tears pricking at your eyes. Every emotion you were trying to ignore threatened to overflow. Fear, sadness, exhaustion, shame. No, this wouldn’t do. You had to get back to Joel. To Ellie. Blinking the tears away, you hauled yourself to your feet. Hoping there was enough space between you and Jack, you headed the way he had.

The screams got louder as you approached the corridor that you had left Max and Jake in, they were blood curdling. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up at the sheer terror evident in their voices. Rounding the corner you saw why. Jack was ripping his way through the soldiers. Slashing their flesh with his claws. Ripping it open with his teeth. 

Max had stayed back behind the cover he had taken but had managed to grab a soldier of his own. He had the man pinned to his broad chest, face buried in his neck, drinking him dry. He slurped and hummed in contentment, the odd groan of pleasure emanated from his throat. Wishing you could unsee that, you turned to find Jake, who was nowhere to be seen. 

A strange, high pitched hum, pressed at your eardrums, you waited for your ears to pop but they didn't, they just endured the low pressure. The source of the hum seemed to be behind the door between the two creatures slaughtering a small army. Investigating whatever was causing it didn't seem like a huge risk considering what you were caught in the middle of. Surprisingly, the door was unlocked. You hoped that was because Jake had come this way and not because they didn't need to keep it locked because only an idiot would enter this room in search of the source of the ominous hum. Spotting a head of dark curls peeking over a computer terminal, you were thankful it was the former. Unless Jake was also an idiot. He seemed to know what he was doing as he typed away.

"Hey. How's the monster mash going out there?" Jake called over.

"Don't ask." You really didn't want to think of it. The screams had stopped. Part of you hoped it was due to the last remaining soldiers retreating. On the far side of the room, there was a platform, five towers resembling Tesla coils rose up from it. 

As you looked on, Jake muttered "Here goes nothing." 

The ends of the towers glowed purple. The air crackled as tendrils of light wove themselves across the space until the ceiling seemed to crack. A swirling galaxy like void appeared tilting until it was almost level to the floor. Light sparked across it like lightening. The air became so charged it was hard to breath.

"This should get us home." Jake came to stand at your side.

"Should?!" 

"I learned everything I know about it from Steven's dreams. They're not exactly 'how to' manuals but since I got it working I'd say the chances of us getting home are pretty good."

"You're not exactly filing me with confidence here, Jake."

Jake didn't answer right away, when you turned to him a different pair of eyes meet yours.

"I can't explain it but I know this will get you were you need to be." Steven reassured you. "As for your powers, you just need to take control of them, own them. I've seen you do it. I know you can, love, you're stronger than you know."

Cheeks burning as his compliment, you changed the subject.

"Are you sending the werewolf and the vampire back too?"

The sentence made your head hurt for multiple reasons. The main one being that they had just killed a bunch of people and you'd be potentially unleashing them on another world. 

"It's not like we should be judging anyone." He held his hand to his chest. "It's your call."

Before you could even begin to start to wrestle with that decision, there was a commotion outside. More heavy footsteps. More gun fire. More screaming.Max came running in, blood painting him once more. His lip was split, a cut ran across his cheek bone."There's more guys out there but the guard dog is on it."

Blood curdling screams reverberated in your chest. You nerves were so frayed by it when the door swung open, slamming into the wall, you nearly hit the ceiling. Two soldiers came in. One was instantly ripped back out into the corridor. His blood splashing onto the remaining soldier as he scrambled to close the door. Not that it did him much good. Jake returned to swiftly pin the guy to wall

"Vamos!" Jake gritted out, struggling with the solider. "Max get her out of here!" He managed to turn the soldier's gun on himself, firing two shots into his chest.

Showing his inhuman speed and strength Max had you in his arms, dragging up to the portal before the soldier's body hit the ground. The door rattled in it's frame as something slammed into it. It could be Jack, it could be a dozen more bad guys. Sadly for Jack, you weren't waiting to find out. 

"Jake, hurry!" He took off running towards you. Luckily, even without the power given to him by Khonshu, Jake was fast. Lean, honed muscles propelled him forwards. He just made it to the portal, his hand landing on your arm, as Jack's hands landed on his shoulders. Jake's back twisted in pain, that coupled with the force of Jack landing on him, sent you all stumbling into the portal. The light from it intensified, blinding you to the men around you. The air became thick around you, pinning your body ramrod straight. Every hair on you stood up on end. Pressure built painfully in your ears until...nothing. A big black void of nothing.

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #tlou au #max phillips

[free-for-all-fics]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra x reader #max phillips #max Phillips and sister reader #prospect 2018 #blood sucking bastards #alien reader #alien au #fic ideas #random fic ideas #fic prompts #random prompts #pls tag me if you write either of these #i’d love to read it

[perotovar]

baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 1) "session one"

gif by me

pairing: joel miller/dieter bravo (just this time. main pairing is still javi/joel) rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 3.5k content: swearing, joel and tommy's southern accents being cute af, dieter being a menace, joel being awkward af (but it's cute), cringey porn dialogue, male masturbation (briefly), one (1) handjob, one (1) blowjob (it's messy), lmk if i missed anything! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry (ily ♥)

summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where most of the ppcu boys are gay porn stars~

(read this first ->) prologue | series masterlist

Joel never would have guessed he’d do something like this ten years ago. Hell, not even five years ago. He’s not even totally sure how he got here, if he’s honest with himself.

He just remembers an, admittedly shady, business-looking man coming up to him and shoving a business card in his face. He asked if Joel had ever slept with men before. Joel was taken aback and thought he was coming onto him in a really bizarre way. He had, but that was none of this man’s business as far as he was concerned.

“There’s no pressure, I promise. Here, my website is on the card. If you see what you like, you gimme a call, okay?” The man had winked, grabbed his coffee, and left. 

Joel was left sitting in the middle of that coffee shop stunned into silence.

Later that night, sitting in front of the laptop Sarah nearly forced on him, he clumsily typed (using only his index fingers) the name of the website from the business card into the search bar.

Love Bites

The name and the man, Max Phillips according to the card, and his invasive question should’ve told him everything he needed to know, but Joel wasn’t prepared for the absolute onslaught of nudity he was met with.

“Jesus–” Joel mumbled to himself, slamming the laptop closed. Not that that would take it away, but he could hope. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head to himself. “The fuck you get yourself into, Miller?” He grumbled.

Slowly, and with one eye closed, he opened his laptop again. Once he got both eyes on it again, the website wasn’t… too bad. Well, it was still a porn site, but it wasn’t anything he hadn't seen before. He started looking around some more and didn’t bother turning it down. He lived alone now, both girls having moved out within the last year or so. He missed the hell out of them, and frankly, found himself bored more often than not. He and Tommy still owned Miller Contracting, but Joel stuck to the delegating and organizing part now. He had too many knee and back problems to keep up on the actual building part.

His finger rolled over to the “profiles” section of the website. He raised a brow and clicked on the trackpad hesitantly. There were several headshots of the men that made content for the website. He felt his cock twitch in his jeans and cleared his throat awkwardly, exhaling heavily. Well, it… had been a while. What could it hurt, right? 

He did have a lot of options…

Dark eyes trailing over the men on the site, he smiled softly. They all had little biographies that explained what their sexualities and preferences were. He snorted a little at seeing two different cowboys; one gay and a little older than himself, the other bisexual and perhaps around the same age. The younger cowboy had a prominent mustache and had a preference for “tying people up”. Bit on the nose in Joel’s opinion, but there was something for everyone. The older cowboy tended toward more amateur-style, “romantic” videos. Joel’s heart softened a little, but decided he wasn’t really in the mood for that sort of thing. 

In his search, he found just about everything; a messy haired, self proclaimed “adventurous” sort, a masked man that liked to roleplay, a clean cut looking man that considered himself a “romantic”. You name it, they probably had it. But his eyes landed on a particular man…

He had deep, intense eyes and a thick mustache. His hair was styled like he walked out of the 80s and he was wearing a thin gold chain. He had a bit of a Burt Reynolds thing going on, and normally that wouldn’t be something Joel was into, but this time, well… 

Joel clicked on his – Javier’s – page and started browsing the videos he had available. His bio said he was “fluid and polyamorous”, but Joel didn’t know what that meant. Wow, he was… popular. That didn’t surprise Joel at all, but his eyes landed on one of Javier’s “solo” videos. It looked like it was filmed in his apartment, but it probably wasn’t from how well lit it was. The video started off like Joel guessed all of them did; a fancy graphic with the words “Love Bites” in the center of the screen before the sound effect of someone taking a bite out of something, and a faint moan. The tips of Joel’s ears warmed, but he pressed on, watching Javier walk onto screen and sit in the middle of the couch that was in frame. 

Javier’s jeans were very tight, but maybe even moreso because of how fucking hard he looked to be. Joel swallowed a lump in his throat, his cock twitching again. Javier had an easy smirk on his handsome face, but he seemed like he didn’t have the cockiness that Joel expected a pornstar to have. The video seemed like it was personally sent to Joel and that thought made Joel’s cock stand to attention almost comically quickly. Unzipping his own jeans, he groaned at the constriction leaving, allowing him to breathe easier. He squeezed his cock and looked back at the video, Javier already getting started without him. He was stroking his own cock slowly, almost teasingly, biting a plump bottom lip. Joel moaned and shut his eyes for a quick second as he took himself in hand–

Ring, ring.

Joel groaned, squeezing his cock harder, and dug his phone out of his pocket. Tommy. He sighed and paused the video on Javier’s blissed out face and big hand wrapped around his–

Ring, ring.

“Christ, Tommy, what is it?” He grumbled, pressing the too-new-for-his-liking phone to his ear.

“Jesus, who pissed in your oatmeal this mornin’?” Tommy’s easy voice filtered in, a chuckle wrapped around his words. “And why are ya outta breath? Ya okay?”

“What–? Yeah, ‘m fine, Tommy. Why y’callin’?”

“Wonderin’ if ya could stop by tonight. Maria’s makin’ meatloaf and I know ya like it.”

Joel did really like Maria’s meatloaf. He sighed to himself and shut his laptop, his cock having softened considerably since hearing his brother’s voice. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, trying to subtly zip up his jeans while he held the phone against his shoulder. “I’ll come over in a little bit, just gotta… gonna make a phone call.”

“Ooh, ya finally have a date, old man?”

“Can it,” Joel grunted. “‘M forty-three. Ain’t that old. And no, I was gonna call Sarah. See how her classes are goin’.”

“Send her our love, will ya? ‘N tell her she’ll have a cousin soon. Maria’s ‘bout to pop any day. ‘M scared to death,” Tommy sighed. The happiness was clear in his voice, though. Joel was happy for him, and smiled to himself. “How’s Ellie doin’, by the way?”

“Good. Think she said somethin’ ‘bout joinin’ a… roller derby team? Don’t rightly know, but,” he shrugged to himself. “Sounded like somethin’ she’d like, way she was describin’ it.”

Talking on the phone with Tommy always went the same way. He’d find a way to chew up a couple hours of your time, but Joel never minded. Once they said their goodbyes and their I-love-yous, Joel picked up Max Phillips’ business card and sighed, rubbing his thumb over the phone number.

What could it hurt, right?

That was two years ago. He’s been working for Love Bites for two years and had been avoiding Javier Peña as much as he could.

Joel’s never been good at… initiating conversations. Ellie would always give him shit for it. She usually went up to whoever had caught Joel’s eye and slyly made it her goal to get them to come over to him. 

But Ellie wasn’t here and she never would be. His girls knew what he did and even if they were a little concerned for him at first, they saw how much happier he’d been since joining. He was healthier, gaining a bit of “chub” as Sarah called it, and a healthier glow to his skin. He was on camera more often now, so he had to eat well and work out a little more. He didn’t do anything too crazy, and the audience that watched his videos had a lot of positive opinions and comments about his physique. It made him blush to think about it for too long, so he tried not to.

What was he saying?

Oh, right. Avoiding Javier Peña.

He’d had a huge crush on him ever since that first video he watched, and frankly, didn’t want to make a fool of himself if he talked to him. He’s filmed one video with him and it was the best Joel had felt in years. He almost came too quickly, and the video was supposed to be twenty minutes long. They had to pause so Joel could calm himself down, but Javier was patient and lovely with him. Javier had been doing this a lot longer than Joel had, so he wasn’t worried, which made Joel feel better. Just a little embarrassed. Afterwards, he had to leave, making up a story about seeing his girls for dinner that night.

“Javi!”

Joel’s eyes snapped up from his phone. He was in the middle of texting Sarah, saying that he’d call her when he got home from work. He had a scene with Dieter today.

And there he was. God. Joel’s cheeks flushed at the sight of Javier standing in the hall in his robe. He must’ve just finished his scene with Shane, the new kid. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the sound of Javier’s deep, commanding voice was enough to send a chill down Joel’s spine. Before he knew it, Javier was talking animatedly with Steve, another actor, as they walked off down the hall and disappearing around a corner.

He knew, realistically, relationships between porn actors could happen. Silva and Jake had been together for years. Joel’s problem with that was, well… Joel. His last real relationship was with Sarah’s mom years ago, and when the girls were in high school he had a relationship with this guy, Ezra for a while.

Smack!

“Jesus–!” Joel jumped, holding onto one of his ass cheeks protectively. Only one person would have done that.

“Hey, handsome,” Dieter grinned, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Joel’s jeans and squeezing. “Getting lost in Javi’s eyes again?” He winked.

“N-no! I am not,” Joel grumbled, finishing off his text and shoving his phone in his pocket.

Dieter snorted and rolled his eyes, then removed his hand to hold it out for Joel to take. “C’mon, big guy. You get to cum on my face today,” he smirked.

Filming with Dieter always felt good. He was a bit wild for Joel’s personal tastes, but he always made sure Joel was comfortable, and today was no different. 

Joel was playing a “plumber” that needed to work on Dieter’s “pipes”. This of course led to Dieter offering to “pay” in his own way. 

“Oh, come on, big guy like you doesn’t need money, right?” Dieter recited his lines expertly, running a hand down Joel’s t-shirt covered chest. “Bet it gets lonely doing this sort of work, huh?”

Joel had gotten a lot better at the acting part of things over the past couple of years. He was super stiff (and not in the right way) in the beginning, but now, he easily plastered on a smirk, eyes glued to Dieter’s lips. “Sometimes,” he shrugged, a big hand hovering over Dieter’s shoulder. Dieter saw the hand out of the corner of his eye and grinned, curling his fingers around Joel’s thick wrist and moving it down to his ass.

Joel smirked, squeezing the plump flesh appreciatively. “Bit forward o’ you,” he rumbled.

Dieter visibly shivered and bit his lip. “Sexy guy like you, of course I am,” he breathed. He leaned forward and kissed Joel messily, the hand on Joel’s torso moving down to unzip his jeans. Joel was already painfully hard and grunted into Dieter’s mouth when his pants were opened and lowered enough to pull his cock free. Dieter moaned and curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft, pumping rhythmically.

They stayed like that for a while; open mouth kisses, heavy breathing from Joel, and Dieter’s moans being picked up by the mics. 

Dieter pulled away to look down at the thick cock in his hand and bit his lip at the sight. “Fuck,” he groaned, his own cock twitching in his sweats. “Can I suck your cock?” He looked up at Joel demurely, eyes big and nearly black with desire.

Joel forgot he was supposed to be acting for a minute and grunted, hips bucking into Dieter’s grasp. “F-fuck, yeah,” he nodded, eyes glazed over. Dieter smiled and guided Joel over to the couch on the set. Technically, Dieter was supposed to get on his knees in the “kitchen”, but he knew Joel wouldn’t be able to stand for that long with his back problems. Sometimes Dieter’s improv classes came in handy. Max couldn’t complain too much, as long as Dieter sucked Joel off, then the video was still following the script.

Joel grunted as he sat, hard cock swaying slightly. Dieter giggled a little and happily got down on his knees, hands traveling up and down Joel’s thighs appreciatively. “Such a pretty cock,” he hummed, licking his lips as he watched it twitch in front of him, a drop of pre-cum gathering at the tip. 

“Why dontcha put that mouth to use, then?” Joel smirked, gripping the base and tapping the head against Dieter’s cheek. “Want your discount, right?”

Dieter smiled and opened his mouth wide, eyes shut in pure bliss. Joel gripped Dieter’s messy curls and held him still as he hit the head of his cock against Dieter’s tongue. Dieter moaned and opened his eyes, watching Joel’s face for any cues to stop. They never came, but it was something they all had to keep an eye on. When everything seemed to be going well, he happily wrapped his mouth around the head of Joel’s cock and started bobbing his head up and down.

He moaned, the vibrations traveling down Joel’s cock and up his spine, making Joel groan in return. “Mmm, knew you’d be good with your mouth,” he grinned, holding the back of Dieter’s head to set a pace Joel liked better.

Dieter heard a cameraman move to his right to get a better angle of his mouth, so he amped it up a little. He got messier, saliva dripping down along the sides of Joel’s shaft. Joel moaned weakly, resting his head on the back of the couch, but keeping one of his hands tangled in Dieter’s messy curls. Dieter started bobbing his head slower, eyes locked on Joel’s face as he moved further down his shaft, taking as much as he could down his throat. He choked slightly and pulled off, pre-cum and saliva covering his mouth and Joel’s cock. He smiled up at Joel and panted heavily, curling his fingers around the base to pump the thick cock.

Joel’s eyes rolled back and he grunted, hips bucking off the couch. “C’mere,” he breathed, heavy work boots landing heavily on the set floor as he stood. “Gonna fuck your face.”

Dieter shivered at the low timbre of Joel’s voice and nodded happily up at him. He pulled his sweats down and gripped his own cock in hand and started stroking himself rhythmically. Dieter opened his mouth for Joel obediently and nearly choked again when Joel shoved his cock down Dieter’s throat. He moaned weakly when Joel’s hips started moving, his heavy balls slapping against Dieter’s chin.

Dieter just had to take it, the lewd sounds of Joel fucking his face filling the otherwise quiet room. He fucking loved it because Joel was subtly massaging Dieter’s scalp and it sent shivers down his spine. His fist was almost a blur over his own cock and tears leaked out of his eyes, a blush high on his cheeks.

“Mmm, bein’ such a good boy f’me,” Joel grunted, biting his lip to rein it in a little. Dieter moaned at the praise, eyebrows downturned in pleasure. “Yeah? Like bein’ my good boy?”

Dieter whined and nodded as best he could, eyes completely glazed over. Joel slowed down his hips a little and let Dieter breathe for a minute. Dieter panted hard, a near-dopey smile on his face. “Come on my face,” he breathed heavily, extending his tongue for Joel. “Please.”

It was Joel’s turn to shiver as he slapped the head of his cock against Dieter’s face again. “Gonna have to earn it,” Joel smirked, reciting his lines as well as he could. 

Dieter whined and pouted up at him, his own hand slowing down a little. He didn’t say anything, letting Joel continue.

“Make me come, and I’ll paint this pretty face o’ yours.”

Dieter’s face lit up and he curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft. He watched Joel’s face while he wrapped his lips around the head and bobbed his head. His free hand held Joel’s hip and subtly moved to his ass and squeezed. He moaned around Joel’s cock and shut his eyes briefly before obediently looking up at him, big eyes wet and innocent. 

“Atta boy,” Joel grunted, cupping Dieter’s face lovingly. Dieter removed his mouth to kiss down his length as he stroked him, attaching his lips to one of Joel’s balls. “Mmm, fuck,” Joel breathed, tipping his head back. 

The hand on Joel’s ass moved slightly until one of Dieter’s fingertips prodded at Joel’s asshole. Joel grunted in surprise and smiled down at Dieter. “Really want me all over ya, huh?”

“Yes,” Dieter nodded, sucking one of Joel’s balls into his mouth. “Please.”

“Keep talkin’ like that and– ooh, fuck – Jus’ might get your wish,” Joel panted, shutting his eyes. He felt the build up in his lower stomach, his cock twitching violently in Dieter’s hand. “C’mere, baby boy,” he grinned, taking his cock back to stroke himself over Dieter’s face.

Dieter was buzzing, lifting Joel’s t-shirt to lovingly caress his hairy tummy, mouth open wide and obedient. 

Joel felt his balls draw up and his hips buck until– “Fuck–! Shit,” He moaned, thick ropes of come spurting out from the tip of his cock and landing on Dieter’s face and mouth. He caressed Dieter’s hair, thick fingers massaging his scalp while the other hand stroked himself until his balls were completely empty. 

Dieter happily licked his mouth clean, and hid his face in Joel’s stomach, whimpering into the sweaty skin. He moaned weakly, his entire body trembling as he came, completely untouched. Dieter was the only one in the cast that could do that, and he loved showing it off as much as he could.

“Shit,” Joel smiled, petting Dieter’s sweaty curls back and out of his face. “Ain’t you a sight.”

“Cut!”

Dieter deflated, a huge grin on his face. He started giggling into Joel’s stomach and smiled up at him. “Fucking love your cock, Joel,” he hummed happily.

“That’s what you always say,” Joel snorted, helping him up onto his feet. Dieter was a little wobbly still and cuddled into Joel’s side. He always got a little clingy after a scene, but Joel didn’t mind. As different as they were, Joel would probably consider Dieter one of his closest friends. It always worked in their favor, their natural chemistry and closeness coming through the cameras.

They were handed a couple towels and some water, the both of them taking them gratefully. Max came up to them, his usual shit-eating grin on his face. Joel always thought Max reminded him of a vampire, with that mischievous glint in his eye that always seemed to be there.

“Great show, boys,” Max started. “Dieter, d’you mind if I steal Joel away for a second?”

Dieter whined and clinged onto Joel tighter. Joel grinned and hugged him back. “Sorry, boss, looks like he ain’t leavin’ anytime soon.”

Max rolled his eyes, but continued anyway. “Fine. Meant to tell you earlier, but things got rolling, you know how it is–”

“What is it, Max?”

“You’ve got a scene with Javier tomorrow.”

If there were a record player anywhere, Joel would probably hear it scratching right about now. Dieter paused too, and looked up at Joel with worried eyes. He knew all about Joel’s crush, and was always telling Joel to just go for it. Joel froze briefly, but tried to school his emotions as best he could.

“O-okay, um. What time?” He asked shakily, gripping Dieter’s fluffy robe tighter.

“I’m thinking around noon? That way Javier can prepare, y’know?”

Preparing was always done before a particularly intense scene. Joel tried really hard not to think about Javier wearing a plug for a while before coming to set. 

“Right,” Joel nodded, cheeks going a little pink. “I’ll be there.”

“You’re the best, Joel!” Max snapped his fingers and walked off, talking to a couple of assistants. 

Dieter tapped on his chest and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You really gotta say something, Joel,” he said softly. 

Joel sighed and nodded. He knew that. 

He just didn’t know what.

#joel miller #dieter bravo #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller series #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo series #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu fanfiction #oaksfics

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 11

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Not many warnings this chapter, just a lot of emotions running high and a fair bit of lying for the sake of keeping secrets. Summary: Your first day in the past with Max is full of emotional moments and surprises, but nothing more surprising than a revelation shared with Eddie and Allison back in your own time. Notes: Hello and welcome to the Gilded Age!! It's been so exciting to see how many of you gleefully jumped into the deep-end with us on this plot twist and I hope you enjoy! This week's Chateau-sur-Mer room on display is Eddie's room 💛

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

It is Mrs. Taylor who wakes you with a gentle knock on the door the next morning, bearing an arm full of clothing for each of you. Max had been resting with his eyes closed, holding you close while you slept, but his eyes opened immediately at the sound. "Good morning," she greets you both with a nod as she hustles into the room, shutting it behind her. "I brought you some things. To help you to blend in. Mr. Brown has arranged for each of you to be measured and fitted today, if you will be kind enough to go into town just after luncheon. He has sent orders to have wardrobes made that will be fitting for members of his family." It isn't her place to comment on the decision or the certainty with which the word 'family' was used, but she follows her orders to the letter.

Max sits up, shirtless and nods. “Mr. Brown is a gracious host.” He is almost giddy at the prospect of tailored suits, considering it’s so hard to have one made during his time. He’s looking forward to the trip to town. “Would you help my wife dress?” He has no clue how to dress you and he’s not sure if you know either.

"Of course." Mrs. Taylor agrees to the request easily, considering she had already but told to do so, but sets down the clothing on the nearby chaise for a moment while you rise from bed in your odd clothing. "After this morning, Mr. Brown has tasked Miss Annie's maid Renee with seeing to your wife. I hope that is acceptable."

It’s a struggle not to show that he recognizes the name, but he manages. “As long as it does not interfere with her duties to Miss Annie.” He takes the borrowed clothes for him and strides behind the privacy screen. He doesn’t care about you seeing him, but this is a different time and he doesn’t wish to offend Mrs. Taylor.

"Of course not, sir." While this particular morning is outside of her own normal duties, that does not concern her much. The staff of this particular house is far more efficient than any other in the community for their ability to work hard without the need for substantial rest or food. Losing a few minutes to dressing a young lady hardly affects her schedule.

Max dresses quickly, approving of how well his sires' clothes fit him and sets out from around the screen with only his boots left to put on. They are his modern shoes, but no one will notice.

The layers that Mrs. Taylor helps you put on seem endless. Chemise. Corset. Bustle. Petticoats. Corset cover. All these underlayers have to go on before she can even button you into the outer shell of the dress, but once you have the soft green and dark brown dress on in all its complicated glory, it's...oddly comfortable. The corset redistributes the weight of the dress and underlayers so that it isn't too heavy on any part of you, and the layers are all surprisingly thin but so much cotton adds up to a very warm outfit. The chill of the fall weather won't get very far at all, especially not with the wool stockings you have on underneath it all to cushion your feet in the neatly laced leather boots that somehow fit you perfectly. They must be your grandmother's -- that's the only explanation you can come up with, knowing how well some other pieces of her wardrobe fit you in your own time.

“You look….” Max’s eyes are wide, slowly taking in your very prim exterior. He had never expected to have such an attraction to the Victorian style, but he finds that it’s very becoming on you. “Exquisite.” He manages. “It’s as big as a ball gown.”

"Hush." The warmth in your cheeks belies the tone in your voice though, seeing the slow way Max surveys you up and down like some kind of precious gem. "You look very handsome as well." The suit that was brought for him is simple but well-made, and even though you have no idea whether or not it's in fashion, he looks like the romantic lead of a BBC period drama come to life and you are absolutely here for it.

“So you’re allowed to compliment me, but I can’t say how attractive my wife is?” He huffs at you playfully and shakes his head. “That will not be cool at all.”

The term is unfamiliar to Mrs. Taylor but she tactfully does not react at all, simply nodding to you and Max in the doorway. "Breakfast will be served in the dining room in fifteen minutes," she informs you before disappearing again. "You look like Mr. Wickham," you tell Max with a grin, doubtful that he'll get the reference but not really caring. "Dashing and handsome, and a little bit like trouble."

“Mr. Wickham.” He looks at you in utter offense, huffing. “I am no wastrel, I’ll have you know.” He grins back at you to show he’s teasing, and holds out his arm to you. “I’m Darcy, of course.”

"Hmm, maybe you're right." Taking his arm is soothing and grounded, reminding you that no matter how crazy this situation is, he's right here with you. "Alli and Eddie are definitely our Jane and Bingley, after all."

“Yes, they are.” He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Obvious to everyone but them that they were crazy about each other.”

"I think it's sweet." Their enthusiasm for each other has been endearing, and a pang of missing your friends makes your heart ache but you have no choice other than to shake it off. "And it looks like we'll have some very, very interesting stories for them when we get home."

“Yes we will.” The dining room is straight ahead and he reaches over and pats your hand. “Are you ready to get to know her in ways you never imagined?” Max asks, not wanting to say ‘your mother’ in case she has hearing like a vampire.

"I'm nervous," you admit, knowing that this is an enormously big deal for only you. Max has no emotional stakes in this meeting, but you have them in spades. "What...wh-what if she doesn't like me?"

“There’s no way that would ever happen.” Of that, he is confident. You are amazing, even if you don’t see it.

"You're biased." It's bolstering, though. It makes you feel a little bit like you have a champion on your side to help square your shoulders when they start to round down again. "But I hope you're right."

“I know I’m right, babe.” He tells you cockily, sending you an air kiss. “They are both going to love you.”

"I hope so." A soft nod is what you can manage right now, knowing that beyond that doorway are two women who have been completely lost to you for so much of your life. "I really hope so."

“I’m with you.” Max promises. “After this, we will see how you dance in that dress of yours.”

"With really big swishes." That is a welcome thought, though, and you revel in the idea of dancing with him becoming so normal that it can happen pretty much anywhere. It has you smiling again, and visibly relaxing, and you nod to Max before gently squeezing his arm. "Okay. Let's do this." The dining room table has been laid with fine China. There are five places set and five chairs, while the sideboard is filled with piping hot serving pieces full of all manner of breakfast items. Tea and coffee and a third carafe that you have to assume is blood are all set out on the opposite wall where a footman stands at attention waiting to pour.

Max glances at you, wondering if it’s a reprieve that your mother and grandmother aren’t down yet. He hums as he guides you towards the table, deciding that he would set you on the opposite side from the door so you can see them when they come in. “At least there is coffee and tea, right?”

"And more, it looks like." You nod toward the third carafe. "Good morning." The next figure to sweep into the room is your grandfather, and he sets himself down at the head of the table without hesitation. "I trust you had a restful night?"

“She slept through the night.” Max answers with a polite nod. “Thank you for the clothes as well. It will be better to blend in.”

“Indeed.” He nods, not reacting at all when the footman in the room steps forward to fill first his coffee cup and then his drinking glass with blood. “The appointment to make your wardrobes is essential. We are throwing a ball in just a week’s time and you must be properly attired.”

Max winces when the blood is poured into a wine glass and when the footman comes around the table, he covers the glass. “Please pour it into the coffee cup.” He instructs.

The footman says nothing but nods and adjusts the angle of his pour once he is standing beside Max. “Your room is comfortable?” Yayo asks. He knows that his staff works hard but he also knows that humans are particular.

Max looks over at you for the answer. Knowing that you were the one sleeping, although he was comfortable as he laid with you. “My dear?”

“Very comfortable,” you assure him quickly.

“Good.” He nods and gives a pleased smile. “The gold room has a special fondness for me.”

“Oh?” Whatever stories your grandfather is willing to share are wonderfully welcome. Only for a moment do you find yourself distracted by the appearance of the footman, who pours tea for you when you indicate your preference.

“Cookie and I spent nearly a year exploring the far East.” He tells you with a soft sigh as he leans back in the opulent chair. “When she had fallen in love with that bed, we bought it and had it shipped back.”

“It’s very beautiful.” Even before now you had thought so. Even considered asking to have it moved to your bedroom on the second floor. But you had decided that that would be an immense thing to ask for and instead started dreaming of one day having visitors who might use the room.

“Our daughter was conceived in that bed.” He admits with a small smirk and raised brow as he stares at the two of you. As if expecting you to say that you are also expecting a joyous occasion after one night in that bed.

“Is that…so?” It’s a little more than you need to know, considering that’s your mother he’s talking about, but it’s still worth noting. With everything you’ve been finding out about your family and your magic lately, who knows if it means something or not.

Nodding, he’s amused by your reaction. You are not timid, you dress far too boldly for that, but you are slightly embarrassed by the idea. Further cementing the truth that you are his granddaughter in his mind. “My wife and daughter should be downstairs shortly. They are not exactly morning people.”

“No…” A slip of a memory runs through your mind and you smile. Your mother dragging herself downstairs in her robe with a yawn only to find that your father had already made her coffee for her. “No…that seems to be true no matter what the age.”

“Since she was a babe.” He chuckles softly. “A fortuitous arrangement, considering that I do not sleep. So I could be up late into the night with her when she was fussy. My wife and I did not allow a nurse to care for her.”

“A fairly unusual choice, but I can see why.” Not knowing how much can or cannot be said around the house staff in this time, you just smile and politely add, “She must have been a rare child. And very loved.”

Everyone in this house is aware of what his child is and he nods. “We are free to speak of all issues but yours,” he tells you meaningfully. “The staff are all vampires. Easier than explaining to humans.”

“I see.” Well, that certainly explains how things are the way they are in the future. When your staff never ages or dies, there’s no need to change them. “That certainly does simplify things.”

“Quite.” He agrees. “The coven and social circles provide Cookie with human companionship when she so desires.”

“I know the Newport coven to be full of kind and caring women.” Of course, it might not be entirely true now, you don’t know for sure. But in your time? Those women became your friends as easily as breathing.

“Then the reputation of the coven has endured over the years.” He hums. “There were some turbulent years, but Cookie is not one to deal with much foolishness.”

“It is my understanding that she is very much beloved.” Before you have the chance to say more, you spot two women approaching from the great hall and nearly swallow your tongue. Your mother looks nearly identical to how you remember her, with the biggest difference being just her style. You remember a woman with short hair and a fondness for berry-tone lipstick, who wore dresses only on the most special of occasions. This version of her blends perfectly into the time, with none of her natural features tempered by makeup, her long hair swept up into a complicated style, and the gown on her frame affixed perfectly to make her look as elegant as a flower in soft pink. Memories of your grandmother have been coming back — many as dreams — since the spell that kept them from your mind seemed to break apart. And now that you are in a different time it seems as though the veil over your mind has been lifted entirely. Your abuela looks just as you remember her as well, all dressed up as she liked to be, with a twinkle of mischief in her eye and a perpetual smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. As though she were intending to save it for later.

“John, you didn’t mention we had guests when you came downstairs.” Her tone is apologetic as she sails into the room and to the seat that is at her husband’s elbow. “My apologies for seemingly ignoring your arrival.”

“Not at all, my dear.” He softens measurably when he looks at her, and seems to forget everything else in the room for that moment. “Some family arrived late last night. One of my sons, and his young bride. I insisted they stay on with us.”

“Oh?” Her eyes brighten and she glances back at the two of you with a warm smile. “Then welcome. I must assume that your bride is breathing?” She asks curiously as she tilts her head. The footman brings the coffee over and pours her a cup silently.

“Max’s wife is as you and Annie are,” he informs his own wife and daughter politely. Just because they can speak freely in the house does not mean he will be crude.

“Delightful.” She nods and turns towards you with a smirk on her face. “Perhaps you will be willing to take tea with me this afternoon, then?” She asks. “John has some business to attend to and my daughter is expecting a caller.”

“I would be delighted.” Tea time has become a sacred ritual for you because of Mrs. Taylor and your grandmother. To actually sit down to tea with her is a privilege higher than you can articulate.

“Lovely.” She smiles at you and then looks over at Annie. “This is my daughter, Annie. She’s normally more engaging than this, but she’s not had her cup of coffee yet.”

“I fully sympathize.” And having seen your mother before coffee on many, many occasions, you expected nothing less. Even so, it’s the seeing her again that has you struggling to hide emotion. “And I’m…I’m very glad to meet you, Annie.”

Her smile is polite and tired. “Forgive me.” She begs. “I become more social as the meal continues but I mean no offense.” She takes a sip of her coffee and sighs. “I believe I should have been an owl.”

“There is a certain magic in seeing sunrise at its beginning instead of its end. The nighttime can have magic in its own right.” At least, that’s what you’ve always thought. Hopefully it doesn’t sound cheesy.

She perks up slightly and nods. “Yes, you are right.” You seem so familiar but she cannot place where she knows you from.

“You seem to be two peas in a pod,” Cookie observes, seemingly delighted by that revelation.

“Do you only have the one child?” Max asks, hoping to draw out more information for you to soak up about your family while you are here. “Or is she the youngest of the group?”

“We only have our darling Anne.” Cookie beams at her daughter as the two of them pick up their plates to serve their own breakfast at the side table and you follow suit. “She is our entire world, I am happy to say.”

There needs to be a conversation about how he can reproduce and other vampires cannot. Max hums. “That is good. We thought to have one, maybe two.”

“Children are an infinite blessing.” While the three mortal women are serving themselves breakfast, the man known as Mr. Brown smiles at the son he barely knows. “An unpredictable and bewildering blessing.”

“I’m sure that we will discover that blessing for ourselves sometime in the near future.” Max wonders if the child you and he will have will be more vampiric or more like you.

“Most families like ours are not so blessed.” Cookie smiles at her husband. “But we have been lucky. And you will be too, I think.”

“Hopefully so.” It’s a truthful answer. He had always assumed that he couldn’t have kids since he was technically dead. Since learning that it was possible, he’s been imagining a little girl that looks just like you, but her favorite parent is him.

“I think my husband has hopes he has not yet shared with me.” It's impossible to deny how much you like calling Max that, and you break out into a smile when you come back to the table with your plate. “Not that I mind, of course.”

“Dolly, you know that I am your willing servant.” Max hums dramatically. “If you wish to be childless and not go through the pain, we will have our friends and my vampiric offspring to surround ourselves with.”

“Not at all.” In fact, it warms you straight to the bone that he has even thought of a family with you. The fleeting thought is far more than you’ve allowed yourself, but now the fantasy seems to jump fully formed from his mind to your heart. “I think it’s very sweet.”

Mad smirks and takes a sip of his blood in the tea cup. “That’s me, my dear.” He teases. “Sweet.”

“You certainly seem to be.” Cookie offers with a polite smile. “May I ask how long you have been married?”

“Recent.” Max laughs, picking up your hand and kissing it. “Very recent. Yesterday as a matter of fact.”

“Truly?” Annie perks up at that, returning with her plate to the seat on your other side. “How romantic!”

“Yes, we were suddenly overcome with the need to marry.” Max sighs softly. “Her parents do not approve of me - I was reluctant to share my true nature with them and they found me odd.”

“So you eloped?” This seems to appeal to Annie even more, and she sighs dreamily at the sheer romance of it all. “What utter devotion.”

“I would not spend eternity without the other half of my soul.” Max nods and leans over to kiss your hand.

"Soulmates." It is your grandmother who sighs this time, and for the moment your extended family seems utterly besotted with the idea as you and Max share a sweet smile. "Well," Cookie's expression is wholeheartedly maternal. "You must stay with us as long as you need to settle yourselves and begin this next chapter of your lives. Mr. Brown may be able to help you find a new home, or lend you the ear of our architect if you choose to build."

“That is a very gracious offer.” Max didn’t expect much else, but it’s honestly a relief. He doesn’t know anything about this time and to be around his sire and your family will help him relax. He knows that they will help protect you. “We humbly accept with our thanks.”

"It is very kind of you." There was a lot more tension in your shoulders than you realized, and when they drop it's out of full relief rather than anything else. Since you have no idea how to get home, there is a remote possibility that you're going to have to buck up and make a life here in...whatever year it is.

“Think nothing of it.” Your grandfather assures you. “There is nothing like having family while you are starting out and you are now family.”

******

You find out quickly that the planning you have been doing for the Samhain Masquerade at home pales in comparison to the levels of planning that Cookie has been doing for her own. There is a small ball to be held in two days time -- something your grandmother refers to rather affectionately as a dinner dance but sounds to you to be an enormous undertaking, and then the full-blown Halloween masquerade in a few weeks time. From the look of the menus she is sifting through in the green salon and the sound of the dresses that are being made as well as the decor and band being hired? It's very clear that you have been planning a dinner dance for Samhain and not a full-blown ball. Maybe you ought to be taking notes, as you sit near your grandmother with a book and she bustles through her papers, but all you can do is watch in awe.

“Lobster bisque with a curried quail or roasted prawns and lamb with mint cream?” She asks, looking up as she decides between the two menus that appeal the most. “I don’t think that I care for the tomato custard with beef shank.”

“Prawns and lamb, I think?” Not ever having eaten quail before, you don’t feel safe recommending it over something else. “Or…that is what I would choose. Although, if you are fond of curry, it is delicious with lamb as well.”

“We will have to have a tasting menu, I believe.” She decides, finding your idea intriguing. “We will have both menus and your curried lamb. Do you have a recipe for Mrs. Taylor? Or just use a curry like with the quail?”

“I actually do have a recipe…” It might be a little too intense for Gilded Age palettes, or it might go over like gangbusters. There’s no way to tell. “I can write it out for you, if you like.”

“If you would not mind.” She asks with a smile, tilting her head imploringly.

"Of course not." The recipe had been your mother's, in fact, and now you can't help but wonder if this is how it made its way into your family in the first place. "It would be my pleasure."

“Delightful.” Cookie beams at you and offers a pen and paper. “We will have Mrs. Taylor make the menus for dinner tonight.”

"I hope very much that you will all like it." Writing with this pen is going to be a nightmare, but you valiantly dip the nib in the ink pot that she offers you and begin to write out the recipe as you remember it from cooking with your mother.

“I am sure that it will become a family favorite.” She predicts, watching you scribble. “You have such unique technique with the pen.” Cookie offers. “Do you often write letters?”

Unique technique. You almost snort at the way your grandmother politely calls out the fact that you can barely write with such a common instrument. "I did not have many people to write to," you tell her by way of neatly avoiding the question. It's not like you can explain texting.

“I see.” Her heart aches for you, finding you a wonderfully charming young woman. Reminding her so much of her own daughter that she feels very protective of you. “Well, if you and Max decide to settle elsewhere, I insist that we exchange letters.”

"I truly doubt that we will, but if it ever does happen, I hope to share many letters between us." That box of letters from her is at the forefront of your mind, and the smile on your face ends up slightly bittersweet before you remember that you're here. Here with her and with your mother.

Cookie interprets the slightly sad smile as a remembrance of your family. Perhaps you still mourn their lack of acceptance of your life. “Don’t worry, my dear.” She reaches out and pats your hand. “Family has a way of coming back to you.”

"More than anyone could possibly know." And that brings your smile back to a much brighter place instantly. "Perhaps my life with my husband will have many more surprises in store."

“Men, especially vampires, are always full of surprises.” Cookie trills and shakes her head fondly. “Even when he drives me to wail, there’s no one I would rather spend my life with than John.” She admits and reaches out to take your hand. “Max has explained that he can lengthen your life, correct? A mortal existence is just but a blink of an eye to a vampire.”

"It has not been the subject of a long conversation yet, but I do know of the possibility." You can't tell her that you know about it because of her, but it doesn't matter either way. The fact is that you'll eventually have to talk to Max about it. "But he cannot tell me if it hurts. Or if it has any other...effects."

“There is no pain involved.” Cookie assures you, happy to share the information she possesses with the wife of another vampire so close to her soulmate. “Truly, you only need to drink but a drop of his blood every day. Just a drop. I know that partaking of their…habits, sounds unsettling, but it is masked wonderfully by a cup of coffee.”

"Really?" It hadn't seemed like it should be that simple, and you tilt your head at her with a small laugh. "I expected it to be far more...dramatic. They are terribly dramatic men, after all."

“Lord, they are.” She joins in the laughter, her own bright and vivacious. “John has a flare for it and it seems he chooses others with that same inclination to change.” She huffs. “As far as effect….you will feel stronger, be stronger. I have such horrid eyesight but since I’ve been partaking in my soulmate’s blood, my eyes are perfect.”

"The strength that it lends them...we get some of it as well?" Truth be told, you hadn't considered that before. But it makes perfect sense now that you hear it out loud.

“Most of the favorable attributes we would share with them.” She explains. “However, we will never have their full strength.” She sighs. “But it does have one ill effect.”

"That seems only fair." A nod of your head asks her to go on, willing to hear whatever unsavory side effects this otherwise magical situation.

“You…” Cookie leans in, cupping her hands around her mouth as if she were telling a secret. “Have horrible smelling body functions.”

It's so unexpected that you sort of freeze, feeling like time has slowed to a surreal whirl, right before you burst out in the most unladylike laughter of your life. "Is that all?" You manage, gasping for some semblance of control between guffaws. "Why--we deal with that on a monthly basis anyway. That hardly seems to make a difference at all!"

“I suppose so.” She straightens and wrinkles her nose. “John sometimes cannot be around me, the smell is too much for his sensitive nose.”

"That seems almost useful," you joke, still laughing harder than you can control. "It gives some time alone, doesn't it?"

She stares at you for a moment and then gives a very un-ladylike snort. “I suppose you are correct, Dolly.” She muses, finding your way of thinking refreshingly bright.

"There is nothing wrong with a little solitude now and then." While you would never ask for it from Max, there are plenty of times when he's off doing other things and you fill your time on your own. That's just how life works.

“Individuals need to be free to pursue things that fulfill them.” She agrees. “My coven accepts John, but they also know he will not be there every time. Society does not know about his…nature.”

“You have been very lucky, I think.” With your grandmother’s hand still holding yours, it’s hard not to be overly emotional. There is something in your chest just aching to burst out but as long as you’re here you won’t be able to let it. Knowing even a small part of her story makes you feel oddly like the Grim Reaper in ways you dearly hate, but can’t ever show. “I hope the rest of the life you choose continues to be happy.”

“Even if it’s not, it will be my journey.” She hums softly, squeezing your hands gently. “Every journey, good and bad, teaches us. Helps us learn for the next life.”

“Maybe you’re right.” It’s such a bittersweet thing to hear from someone who has already begun their next life journey, but you offer her a smile and nod. “That is a soothing way to think of it.”

“Isn’t it?” She smiles softly. “The only problem is; I don’t know when John would meet up with me in the next life.” She admits. “Even though he is immortal, and very much older than I, we are joined in this life and every life we will have.”

“Then perhaps it is you who will find your way back to him?” You suggest, hoping it sounds as soothing to her ear as it feels to you. “And not the other way around? I know…whatever comes next…I will do everything I can to find my way back to Max.”

“Your paths have been destined to be intertwined.” Cookie sighs lovingly, her own eyes soft and dreamy. “Every person should find their soulmate and their happiness. Although the two are not mutually exclusive to one another.”

“I think that’s very important to remember.” And bittersweet, considering you know that it will be forgotten along the way. When your mother falls in love with a man who isn’t her soulmate. Well after that man is taken from her.

“Are you feeling peckish?” She asks after a moment. “I feel as if we should have some tea.”

“Tea is always welcome.” The morning seems to be that much longer when breakfast is served sharply at 7:30am, and with more than an hour left before luncheon, a cup of tea sounds perfect. Down the hall you can hear the soft sound of laughter and conversation from the library, and you can’t help but smile. Your mother’s laugh sounds so much more polite in this day and age. Which makes perfect sense, considering how young women were supposed to act. “Do you suppose Annie and her caller would join us? Or would that be imposing?”

“We can see.” She agrees with a small smirk on her face. “If she can drag herself away from Emmanuel long enough to take tea.”

It’s impossible not to stare when the name crosses your grandmother’s lips, realizing that the man your mother has been talking to in the library for more than a half hour (well over the societally-correct fifteen minutes) is her soulmate. The most you can manage is a weak “Oh?” Out of the need to make some sound.

“It seems as if he will be a regular caller.” She continues on, not noticing your reaction. “He is from a nice family and my husband is impressed with his business dealings.”

“So, it is a…a good match?” You remember Yayo speaking of it with fondness. Saying that your mother had loved her soulmate and that was why he had taken such drastic action. This seems like it is the very beginning of that attachment and your heart aches knowing what your mother has yet to go through.

“Very much so.” She nods. “My daughter is a very powerful witch and will take a strong man to stand by her side.”

“And a good one, I hope.” Never having met Emmanuel, you can’t say. But you’ve seen what strength looks like in good and bad men all your life. “Strength in a bad man can break even the strongest of women. Not help her.”

“You are right.” Cookie nods seriously. “It has happened before and it will happen again, I am sorry to say.”

“A tale as old as time, some would say.” Even if you hate yourself for the reference just a tiny bit, it’s too good to resist.

“Oftentimes the best of tales are older than time, just as some of the worst.” Cookie muses with a wry smile on her face. “I have seen time pass far more than most and I believe that to be true.”

“I will trust your word,” you tell her honestly. Your grandmother has seen far more of the world and far more of humanity than you have and you both know that even at face value. “My life has been sheltered until now, for better or for worse.”

“Then we will have to make sure that under the protective shield of your husband, you live the life you wish.” She promises.

“Then I suppose I ought to decide what it is that I wish for.” Whatever it is, it will have Max and it will have dancing. Anything else that life decides for you is still very much up in the air.

“Agreed.” She smirks slightly and her toe presses the button that is discreetly placed near the table leg by her chair. Allowing her to summon Mrs. Taylor.

Mere seconds later the vampire housekeeper arrives in the doorway of the drawing room with her hands folded and an expectant smile. “Ma’am?”

“Please ask Annie and her guest if they would join Dolly and myself for tea?” She asks, smiling at the housekeeper. “And we have a new recipe for you to try.”

“Of course, ma’am.” The recipe is a surprise, but Mrs. Taylor accepts the paper from Cookie with only a slight look of disbelief at the handwriting before she curtsies lightly and turns the corner toward the library.

“Shall we adjourn to the morning room?” She asks with a small smile. “Give the lovers a moment alone to discuss having to be around someone else?”

“It’s always a rude awakening. To have to remember that there are other people in the world when you are in your own little bubble.” That expression probably doesn’t exist here, but it’s probably self-explanatory. Hopefully.

“You have the most charming colloquialisms I have ever heard.” Cookie hums in delight. “It has been so refreshing having you here. I feel as if we will be lifelong friends.”

The best you can do is sigh your relief that she doesn’t call you out on being odd, and instead embraces it. So you smile warmly. “And perhaps those lives will be much longer than other friends could ever hope for.”

“The advantage of being with a vampire.” She laughs. “One of many, although I’m sure you are finding out the others when you retire to your rooms at night.”

“Oh, um…” You really have to wonder how odd it is that you claim to be married to Max but haven’t breached that particular nighttime activity yet. Thank the gods your abuela can’t feel the heat rolling off you as it rises in your cheeks. “I—of course…”

“Do not worry, we are not as uptight as some families might be about that sort of thing.” She assures you, standing up and offering you her arm. “If you wish to talk to another woman about those things, you just come to me anytime.” She is assured that your mother never spoke to you about a wife’s relations with her husband behind closed doors, and she doesn’t wish for you to be ignorant.

“That is most generous of you.” And it is, really, except she can’t possibly understand how awkward it is to have that offer made by your grandmother.

She can sense you won’t but she just pats your hand. “Well, we will talk about something else, shall we?”

Like a merciful saving grace, your mother appears in the doorway a moment later followed by a tall man with masses of wavy, dark brown hair and crystal blue eyes. It’s pretty clear your mother’s physical type is tall and strong, though. If the similarities between Emmanuel and your father are anything to go by. “You sent for us, Mother?”

Your grandmother tuts playfully. “You act as if you have been summoned to a hearing, rather than tea.” She teases. “I was hoping you and Emmanuel would join Dolly and I for tea?”

“Of course.” Even though she says it with all manner and politeness, you recognize the tone from your mother as placating and bite back a smile. She called it her ‘PTA voice’ for when she had to deal with the other moms at your schools when you were growing up. Apparently it had existed long before her involvement in any PTA. “Mr. Aubert was just saying how lovely today would be for a walk,” Annie tells the room as if it was some momentous declaration. “Perhaps you could spare me this afternoon, Mother? To accompany him?”

“I think an afternoon walk after tea would be a very delightful undertaking.” She grins because she knows that her daughter would like to be alone with her beau. “Perhaps Dolly and I will join you.” She has no intention of joining, simply meddling to meddle.

“Oh!” Annie’s head whips back to look at Emmanuel and reminds herself to smile before looking back at her mother. “Of course. If you would like to join us, you are both very welcome.” It’s clear that wasn’t her hope, but she isn’t going to say no. Saying no might have her chance at a walk revoked altogether.

“Although….” She tilts her head towards you. “Dolly and I still have so much to plan for the ball. Since she has volunteered her help.” She reconsiders. “It would be best if we stayed and continued to work, wouldn’t it?”

“There is considerable planning to do.” You manage to pick up on it almost right away, the way abuela Cookie is messing with her daughter, and you even manage not to crack a smile or laugh. “Perhaps it would be best. Will you be terribly disappointed if we are forced to stay behind?”

If your mother could look any happier, she would be crying tears of joy. Bobbling her head quickly, she’s not even looking over at Emmanuel. “That seems like a proper plan, I would hate for our outing to put you behind. Perhaps another time?”

“Yes. Another time.” Cookie’s face shows no trace of teasing or amusement until her daughter looks away and shoots you a sly smile. “What a pity. But I am sure you are more than capable of being a charming companion for Mr. Aubert.”

“So, tea?” Your mother looks around for the tea set eagerly. As if beginning it will get it over with quickly. She is eager to be alone with Emmanuel.

“Yes, miss.” The footman that appears with the tray and sets it on the low table in the center of the room. “Thank you, Franklin. We can manage for ourselves.” Cookie smiles when she dismisses the footman, but it is definitely a dismissal.

“Emmanuel, allow me to fix you a cup of tea.” Annie flirts, smiling winsomely at her caller and moving over to the tea quickly.

“Mr. Emmanuel Aubert, may I present Mrs. Dolly Phillips. Her husband is family to Mr. Brown and they will be staying with us for the foreseeable future.” Ever the gracious hostess, your grandmother makes you sound as grand and important in her introduction as royalty and you nod politely as you have now seen several women in this time period do. Shaking hands seems to be considered something quite intimate so you refrain from offering the gesture like you normally would. Seeing your mother act exactly like a teenager with a crush is sort of sweet, but you don’t comment on it at all for now. Hopefully having the other guest in the room get a bit talkative will take some of the focus off of you. “How long are you in Newport for, Mr. Aubert?”

“Business brought me to Newport for the next three months.” He explains, looking towards Annie again with a smile. “But I think I will be staying longer for personal reasons.”

"That's wonderful to hear." And more than a little heartbreaking, considering Yayo told you what happens to them. But right now your mother is happy. And being able to sit next to her again? See her smile like that? It's everything.

“Quite.” Emmanuel’s gaze at Annie is nothing short of adoring and he’s already sent for the heirloom ring that his grandmother had made him promise would rest on his spouse's finger.

“And…what sort of business are you in? If you don’t mind me asking.” So much curiosity overwhelms you at this other possible direction your mother’s life could have taken. It’s a little maddening but fascinating at the same time.

“Railroads.” Emmanuel answers simply. “My family builds railroad cars. My grandfather is George Pullman.”

“Really?” That’s probably too enthusiastic a reaction to be considered ladylike, but you weren’t expecting such a fascinating answer. “I—that is—how remarkable!”

“Then you have heard of our sleeper cars?” He asks with a proud smile. “Have you traveled in one?”

“I have not been so lucky yet.” Pullman cars being a thing of the past — now that you’re in the past maybe you’ll have a chance. “But I saw a photograph of one printed in a newspaper once.” In the archives at Vanderbilt, there had been loads of old newspapers on microfiche. It had been something of a hobby to go through them for little tidbits, and you ended up finding some fun things there.

“Then we will have to rectify that.” He smiles at you with the excitement of a man being able to show off a favorite toy. “My personal car is at the rail station. Perhaps we can take a small trip to showcase the luxurious ride available?” He clears his throat. “Your husband is welcome to join us, of course. As well as you and your husband, Mrs. Brown.” He adds politely.

“Alas, I think perhaps Mr. Brown and I will be too busy to join you.” Cookie smiles a very knowing — scheming — little grin. “But perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Phillips would be entertained by a train journey? There is time yet before the masquerade, if you choose to go sooner rather than later. A few days away does young people a world of good, without interfering with any of your responsibilities.”

“Would I be able to go?” Annie’s eyes are wide and pleading, wanting to spend as much time as possible with Emmanuel.

The knowing smile on your grandmother’s face is everything, and she nods once in polite agreement to her daughter’s plea. “I think it would be lovely for you and Dolly to make friends,” she hums, pleased with the idea. “As long as your father agrees, you may depart on Sunday as long as you return again before the Astor’s ball next Friday.”

“Mama, thank you!” Rushing forward, she kisses her mother’s cheek happily and nearly buzzes with excitement.

“Mind you behave yourself.” Cookie accepts her daughter’s love with glee, though, before going back to demurely sipping her tea. “Mrs. Phillips shall be my spy while you are away.”

“There will be nothing to report.” Annie promises, nearly giddy and she rushes around to hug you as well. “We will become the best of friends during our tour.”

“Wherever you would like to go.” Hugging your mother again — despite the corsets, despite her not knowing you yet, despite every obstacle — nearly has you in tears and you have to blink them away as fast as lightning so no one notices. “Whatever you would like, Annie.” It doesn’t even matter that using her first name is a foreign concept to bend your mind around. You’re getting to hug your mother again.

She beams and nods, happy that you are willing to be a chaperone so she can spend more time with Emmanuel. “Perhaps tomorrow morning, we can walk through the gardens together?” She asks softly.

“That sounds wonderful.” So wonderful you could damn near cry, but you’ll save that for the privacy of your own room tonight, where you know Max will understand.

“Then we have a date.” She had picked up on some of Max’s unusual phrases at breakfast, liking them immensely. Nodding and letting go of you, she rushes back over to her caller’s side.

“Wisely and slow.” Cookie says, in a moment that would seem rather enigmatic if it didn’t immediately trigger a core memory somewhere in your mind that you hadn’t even given a flicker of recognition to in years. “They stumble that run fast.” Both you and Annie finish the line of Shakespeare in unison, exchanging a look of surprise immediately afterward.

Annie is the first to break, giggling and humming playfully. “Did your mother dole out wisdom from Shakespeare as well?”

“Rather constantly.” And now you know exactly where she got it from. “And took me to the plays, as well.”

“How utterly delightful.” Annie nods. “Mother always makes sure Father secures tickets. Experiencing Shakespeare is a requirement of being a cultured lady.”

“My mother thought so as well.” And how you wish you could just dive across the room and hug her and just never let go. Or just say anything. But you promised Yayo it would be a secret.

“Well, I am glad that you are also well versed.” Your grandmother beams at the two of you. “This is like having two daughters, if only for a while.”

“I’m very glad you think so.” For you, the dream of seeing your family again is very real. It only makes sense that they recognize those traits in you, as well.

She smiles softly and nods, aware that your own parting from your family must be bittersweet for you. “Well, I think that we are going to have a marvelous masquerade this year, don’t you?” She asks you.

“It sounds like it will be wonderful.” If you ever get back to your own time to plan another, the second Samhain Masquerade you plan is going to be a hell of a lot fancier, you know that for damn sure.

“Mother enjoys planning events.” Annie offers with a proud little smirk on her face. “No one would dare turn down an invitation, not even the Astors.”

“I know I can speak for my husband when I say we are both honored to be included.” The morning for Max has been time alone with his sire, and you know that this afternoon when you have to venture into town to get fitted for clothes he’ll be talking your ear off about everything that’s been said.

“You will not regret it. The salmon pâté is probably my most favorite bite of all the buffet.” The other woman practically moans at the prospect.

“Then I dearly look forward to it.” It seems like Mrs. Taylor has always been both cook and housekeeper here and you know her cooking is impeccable. She’s made things for you that you had never imagined trying before and they’ve always been wonderful. “You’re very fortunate to have such a talented chef.”

“Mrs. Taylor has a passion for cuisine that I have never seen before.” Cookie answered honestly. “If she were born a man, she would have been accepted to the top culinary schools.”

“Perhaps she should start a school for women cooks. Share her talent with any who wish to learn and let the pool of talented women become talented, trained women.” Just because you know for a fact that it does not happen between this time and yours, doesn’t mean it never could. And it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t either. Mrs. Taylor would be a wonderful teacher.

“That would be something she would adore.” Mrs. Brown admits. “She cannot have children of her own, so the people she cares for become her children in a way. I know students would be no different.”

“Perhaps one day.” Annie chirps with a smile. She knows that something drastic would have to happen to separate her mother from their housekeeper.

“Perhaps.” Your grandmother hums softly with a smile on her face. “For now, we get to sample her delightful creativity. Why Mrs. Phillips had brought her a new recipe to try.”

“It is nothing. Really.” A bit of bashfulness has you not wanting to have your offering pried into. It all happened by accident anyway.

“Nonsense. Mrs. Taylor was floating around the kitchen with glee.” Even if she hadn’t seen the other woman, she knows how she reacts to new challenges.

“Then I hope the dish turns out to be a popular one. So she may enjoy her triumph.” You offer, and just let the facts settle over you privately and silently, that the reality of time travel is very weird.

“We will find out tonight.” She reminds you with a smile before she takes a bite of her finger sandwich.

******

"I guess they aren't up yet." Allison shrugs her giant cardigan a little closer around her body, overcorrecting for the lack of body heat from Eddie even though her vampire boyfriend is wrapped around her like an ivy vine as they slowly descend the stairs to the dining room for breakfast. There's no sign of you or Max being up or around the house, so the logical conclusion is that you've chosen to sleep in and Max is by your side. "More breakfast for us, then," she looks up at Eddie with a smile. "Or just me? Are you eating with me this morning?"

Eddie smiles down at her, amazed that she is here, that she’s in his arms. He hadn’t even heard Max’s car come home, so apparently he had been completely preoccupied. “I’ll eat with you.” He promises. “I love eating with you.”

"There's an entendre there somewhere," she hums, grinning when he leans down to kiss her halfway down the stairs.

“Didn’t think you’d want Mrs. Taylor to hear what else I love eating.” He teases her softly, grinning against her lips.

“Menace.” She’s giggling though, and pinching Eddie’s side before she starts down the second half of the stairwell. “You’re an absolute menace, Edward Cowper.”

“That’s me.” He never thought he would be classified as a menace, that was thoroughly Max’s area of expertise but Allison brings it out of him. “A menace.”

“Something smells like paradise.” The scent wafting up from the kitchen is rich and fruity and cinnamony at the same time, and Allison groans happily. “I’m getting spoiled being in this house all the time. With the Menace and the best cooking in the whole world.”

“That is nice to hear.” Mrs. Taylor bustles through the door, a distracted frown on her face as she looks at the pair. “Did Max and Dolly indicate that they would be lodging elsewhere last night?” Her question is abrupt, showing none of her usual tact.

“They didn’t come home?” Eddie’s frown matches Mrs. Taylor’s instantly. “I figured Dolly was just still asleep.”

“Max’s car is not in the garage and Renee said the bed was undisturbed.” She tells them, her jaw set in a very unhappy stance.

“They only went to Portsmouth.” The younger vampire’s frown deepens and he pulls out his phone to see if he’s missed a text but there’s nothing there. “There’s no reason they shouldn’t have come home.”

“That is what I am afraid of.” Mrs. Taylor frowns even more, her fangs descending in worry.

“If anything had happened to Dolly, Max would have brought her home instantly,” Allison reasons, though her arm around Eddie’s waist tightens with nerves.

Unless he couldn’t is the unspoken fear that passes between the two vampires in the room. Making the normally calm and collective Eddie ruffle slightly with a shudder.

“If you are wondering after his brother and his soulmate, they won’t be returning for some time.” From the darkened doorway, his voice is quiet but firm

Allison’s eyes widen at the sound of the new voice, unaware that anyone else is there and her head swings around to peer at the voice. “Why?”

“They are traveling.” Is the enigmatic answer, as the master of the house enters the room with one long, sure step.

“Where would they have gone?” Eddie asks, but a look of understanding immediately passes over Mrs. Taylor’s face. “I see.”

“Not far.” His sire assures him, seemingly nonplussed by the concern on Eddie’s face. “But I am afraid it will be some weeks before they return.” His eyes slide over to Mrs. Taylor, who nods. “Allison,” he addresses her without shifting his gaze. “You will take up Dolly’s place in finalizing plans for the ball with the coven. Mrs. Taylor will tend to things in the house. She knows what to do.”

“I- me?” She asks, slightly alarmed by the presence of Cookie’s soulmate. She has not seen the vampire since her funeral.

“Yes, my dear.” He regards her with the warmest expression he’s capable of this morning, knowing what has befallen you last night in those woods. “Cookie taught you how, and I know you have been helping Dolly. You will manage it well and have Mrs. Taylor to keep you moving forward.” His cool hand touches her arm and he nods as if to say it will all be well. “My soulmate regarded you as something of a second granddaughter, you know. I know you will make her proud.”

“I- I don’t know what to say.” Allison says, teary eyed at the beautiful words. “I will make sure that everything is perfect for Dolly and Max’s return.”

“Second granddaughter?” Eddie frowns, not quite understanding and looking to his sire curiously. “I didn’t know Cookie had a first granddaughter.”

The elder vampire smiles enigmatically. “The cat is out of the bag.” He hums and shrugs slightly. “Dolly is our granddaughter.” He reveals as simply as if he was stating the weather outside and not some surprising news.

“I knew something didn’t make sense!” Allison nearly leaps out of her seat but anchors herself by grabbing Eddie’s hand in her eager surprise. “Cookie would never have left this house to some far-flung, unknown relative!”

“You are correct.” The smirk on his face is both slightly sad and proud. “In order to break the spell, my darling Cookie decided to give up her immortal time to allow Dolly to know all of you and myself.” He pauses. “Once she is settled, I will end my existence and find her in my next life.”

The shock of that announcement sucks the air out of the room instantly, leaving even the undead breathless as Eddie’s jaw hangs wide open and Mrs. Taylor grasps the nearest piece of furniture in an uncharacteristic moment of uneasiness. She doesn’t question him, knowing how devoted he had been to his soulmate for hundreds of years, but she clasps her hand over her heart as though it were breaking. “You…” Eddie swallows air he has no need for, the harsh sound echoing in his chest. “You have an entire family here,” he protests, knowing it sounds weak — and maybe it is weak. But there are only so much family he will ever be able to have in his afterlife, and they are all because of his sire.

“I do.” His decision was not made lightly, and Cookie had protested against it, as much as he had protested her decision. “And every one of you is special to me, but she is the other half of my soul.” He reminds Eddie. “The Devil made me walk this earth for over a thousand years before my soulmate was ever born. I cannot walk another thousand without her.” He refuses to, is the real answer, but he is more dramatic than that. “I know that my chosen successor will fill my role fantastically and keep our family together.”

“Then you have already chosen.” Mrs. Taylor nods in understanding and recognition, as solemn as it is.

“All will be revealed when it is time.” He intones seriously. “It will be a joyous occasion amongst my vampiric offspring.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Eddie BtVS x OC #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #mysterious inheritance #time travel #so much chaos #it's the gilded age bitches!

[juletheghoul]

Vignette

AN: I decided to test myself by creating a writing challenge for myself, and it turned into this. It also helped that House of the Dragon has put me into an Oberyn mood. Quick thank you to my girl @wheresarizona for the amazing moodboard and for her general awesomeness as well as my wifey @foli-vora for letting me bombard her with this. Hope you enjoy xox.

Pairing; coded as Oberyn Martell x f!reader - (no use of his name, this could be read as a choose your own character)

Warnings;  piv sex (wrap it up), fingering, dirty talk, implied heartbreak, Creampie, pornographic photography, let me know if I missed anything

Word count; 3.8k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

----

He was intense, but not in an intentional way-it seemed to go way beyond that. 

Maybe it was his gaze, the way you knew instinctively that he saw everything, saw your sad smile and your nervously fidgeting hands. He saw the spectre of heartbreak that curled around you like smoke, the invisible weight that on a bad day- affected your very posture. 

“Feel free to make yourself comfortable, nothing will happen for now, I’d like to start by talking about what will happen today.” He gestured to the middle of his almost decadent space, the soft lilt in his voice reassuring. It was small, and filled with treasures, endless framed pictures and artworks hung in no discernible pattern on the emerald green wall. There was a massive rattan basket chair filled with cushions and plush blankets in a corner, the fading sunlight streaming in through the window would make the pictures taken there gorgeous. 

“Sure, just anywhere?” You set down your bag and stood beside the chair, pausing to admire the lush plants in the space. 

“In the chair would be wonderful, we’ll most likely begin there.” He had a table set up opposite the chair, on that table were a few cameras and lenses, what you imagined were boxes of film along with a stool he now moved to sit across from you. He paused before taking his seat- “Can I offer you something to drink? I have bottled water as well as a few different kinds of tea, I could make coffee?” He stood, head tilted. 

“Um - water would be great, thank you.” You sank into the chair, slightly surprised at how comfortable it was.

I suppose it would have to be for this sort of thing. 

“I uh- I’ve never done anything like this before.” You tried to laugh a bit, but it sounded disingenuous, instead resorting to a small smile when he handed you the water bottle. 

“That’s okay- it’s a little unorthodox but my clients have been very happy with the results.” He sits finally, his body language conveying how comfortable he is. “I’ve booked you as my only appointment today so there’s no time limit, I pulled out quite a bit of film so don’t worry about running out or having to get the perfect shot, your only job today is to be yourself and forget about the camera.” He grabs a mug from a small table, it steams and the smell of jasmine fills the air. “For obvious reasons, I don’t use digital cameras. The pictures I take are only hard copy, any and all negatives you either take with you, or I keep in my private collection and you have my guarantee that they don’t end up anywhere but my portfolio. Now-” He smiles, his lively brown eyes bore into yours in a way that makes your heart race slightly. “-any questions for me?” He sips at his tea again, his attention solely focused on you. 

“Oh-” You’d had a few questions on the way over but sitting there, in the plush chair opposite this handsome, comforting man they were hard to get a grasp of. You took a sip of the water to stall while you gathered your thoughts. “How long do these sessions usually take?” 

“It varies, really depends on the person or people-” Your eyes widened and he smiled warmly. “You’d be surprised to know a lot of my clients are married or long term couples, people who want to document their intimacy, in a tasteful way. Professional more like, it’s hard to take nudes sometimes.” He laughs and you join. It made sense, an ex of yours had convinced you to record once and the whole experience had ended in laughter. “I also do regular portraits, I do regular boudoir shoots, intimacy shots, tasteful nudity and even some not so tasteful stuff. I capture whatever the client wants to capture and sometimes - I even join in. It’s all a matter of comfort.”

Your eyebrows rose into your hairline and all at once you imagined how he’d kiss, how his facial hair would feel on your face, on your breasts and on your thighs. You took a deep, steadying breath. 

“Have you or one of your clients ever stopped a session?” You fiddled with the fringed edge of the cushion beside you. 

“Yes, I’ve had a client say they wanted to stop because their heart wasn’t in it - they came back a few days later and the second shoot turned out noticeably better. I have had to stop a session with a couple because I wasn’t comfortable with what they wanted me to document. It happens, we’re only humans and I try not to judge anyone too harshly. I will check in with you constantly.” You nodded along, curious as to what could have made him cancel mid-appointment. “I feel like there is something you aren’t saying.”

“Am I that transparent?” His eyes had a way of holding your gaze, of drawing you in despite the heat crawling up your neck. 

“I pride myself in my ability to read people, it makes me good at my job.” He smiled as he sat there, cross-legged and completely at ease. 

“Well, you aren’t what I imagined, I mean to say- you aren’t what I pictured when we spoke over the phone.” And he wasn’t, he looked like some lost emperor, his face regal, his movements elegant. This was a man who was in total control of his body.

“Am I an improvement? Or a disappointment?” His voice was neutral, a twinkle in his eye- an understanding that he could read the answer in your fidgeting.

“I think you know.” A nervous laugh fills the room from both of you and suddenly you understand why clients would ask him to join.

“I think I do as well, but words are paramount- I need you to communicate with me if this will work.” He set his cup down and stood, reaching over for the first camera as he smiled. “Nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen- but if there is something you want, you must open that pretty mouth and say it out loud.” He slid some film into his camera before moving the stool away, his eyes back on you. “Shall we begin?” His eyes shine with mischief and you find yourself excited to start.

Here goes nothing. 

“Yes I’m ready.” You do your best to make sure you’re presentable, your hands briefly fussing at your hair before they straighten out the simple dress you’d chosen while he goes about moving your bag out of the frame. 

“Lovely. First I’m going to just have you get comfortable in that chair, your first instinct will be to pose and I want you to try to fight that, just make the space your own and I will find what I’m looking for.” He fluffs a few floor pillows as he speaks, moves some things around while you do your best to follow his instructions. 

It was hard to ignore the camera though, hard not to think of how you’ll show up in the picture, what parts of your body will be highlighted and whether it’ll be flattering or not.

“Pretend you've come here at the end of the day. To this space to unwind. There is no rush, the hard part of the day is through.” His voice is so rich, so calming and you close your eyes to picture it. “Time to relax, to curl up with a good book and a glass of wine.” Your legs draw up close to your body, making yourself as small as you can. “Perfect, move blankets, move pillows, make yourself at home and I’ll adjust things. Keep your eyes closed and don’t mind my hands.” You feel them then, warm and soft on your thigh when he straightens the fabric of your dress. 

The camera's shutter isn’t as loud as you’d imagined it would be - not as jarring as you’d thought it would be, instead you imagine yourself at home; imagine yourself in bed. 

The soft pad of his thumb smooths your eyebrow slowly, smooths the worry out of your face silently before the soft shutter sounds again, closer now but it doesn’t matter. The camera isn’t there, instead you focus on your breathing, deep breaths in as well as out. 

Soft fingertips trace the line of your jaw, tipping your face towards the window and it feels like his fingers are charged with something. A sparkling path burned into the places he brushes that bloom and spread throughout your person. He hums in approval, more shutters and it's so much easier than you would have thought. 

One hand slides under your neck like silk for a moment before a pillow is placed underneath, shifting you half onto your back now and it raises your chest, opens you up to the light streaming in around you, calls to mind the classic paintings of the female form and if you hadn’t been so at ease with him you might have laughed. 

“Lovely, let’s hold here a moment.” His voice has dropped into something smoky, something simmering under the skin; nothing in the world could let you disobey a voice like that. 

More soft shutters.

“Beautiful.”

He’s moving, the sounds come from behind the chair and you try to imagine what it would look like for him, is he taking a picture through the rattan? Does the chair's shadow look like netting? 

He’s in front of you again, your ears prickle and track his movements and your heart leaps to feel his hands slide up the soft skin of your thighs. 

“May I see more of your skin?” His hands rest on your knees, you nod and a soft breath escapes when he pulls the fabric up to show more of your legs, when his fingers undo a button at your cleavage. “You’re doing wonderfully.” You take another deep, steadying breath and within a moment soft music fills the space, further alleviating the nerves keeping you stiff. 

“Much better.” He says it almost to himself but you know he sees your body become more pliant, sees the stiffness in your limbs bleed out into the comfortable nest he's created, all of it infused with the scent of Jasmine and oud and bergamot -the smell of him. 

Your lip slips between your teeth at the thought of his mouth tracing the same paths as his fingers-

“Wait, bite your lip for me once more.” His thumb presses at the plush of it, coaxing it slowly back into your mouth- your nipples harden to feel his thumb there, the soft shutters sounding before he’s moved his thumb away and the thought of it being captured makes your cunt ache. “Such a lovely sight my sweet.” There is a smile in his voice, you know he sees through you- sees your visceral reaction when he slides his fingers softly down the curve of your throat, down past your collarbones to rest where another button keeps you hidden. 

He sees, and he waits, waits for the words he warned must come all the while the shutters continue to sound and he patiently documents your slow, curated descent into a lustful madness.

“Out loud.” His finger traces soft patterns at the base of your throat, waiting until you open your eyes and breathe out a yes. 

He smiles and undoes a few more buttons, his focus now on the skin on display for him, the rise and fall of your chest, the goosebumps that raise in his wake and he moves again. Makes himself comfortable at your feet and your heart races in anticipation. 

The camera dangles from his neck as his hands move slowly, tracing up your thighs until the fabric bunches and pools at your waist, until he sees the no-doubt noticeable damp spot between your legs. Your heartbeat races, thumping loudly in your ears as he pulls your legs apart, thrums steadily in your cunt the longer he stares and then he leaves you there - open to his gaze while the shutters sound and he takes pictures of your ruined underwear. 

It’s hard not to tense up, hard not to scream from the tension thick enough to slice through permeating every inch of space between you. 

“Very lovely - I could photograph you all day like this.” He fiddles with the lens before placing his hand onto the meat of your thigh, the sheer size of it makes you almost pant but you don’t, instead you take another deep breath, take a moment to yourself to calm down. But you can’t calm down, his proximity, his smell, his warm breath ghosting across your heated skin makes it impossible to do anything but melt and burn for him. 

“What-” Your voice almost cracks but you steady yourself. “What do your clients usually say, when they ask you to join?” You feel the heat crawling up your neck when his gaze returns to your face, a knowing smile. 

“They tell me exactly what they want me to do my sweet. If they want me to kiss them-” He dips his head and presses his lips to your knee and your mouth drops open. “If they want me to touch them-” His palm slides across your inner thigh and then he presses it against the whole of your cunt. “Is that what you want? You want me to touch you?” He doesn’t move, doesn’t alter his pressure and it feels like your body is vibrating with want. 

“I can feel the heat coming off you.” He takes another picture and for a moment you can do nothing but swallow thickly. Your body is a live wire and it takes everything in you not to shake, all of it made harder still with your hands pressed into your thighs, the flesh of which spills through your fingers in your will to keep them open.

“Yes.” It comes out as almost a whisper and he doesn't react for a moment, instead he searches your face for something while your heart races and races. Finally he moves and pushes the damp fabric away to reveal your glistening heat. 

Its his turn to bite his lip now, his focus solely on the slightly parted lips of your sex before moving the camera up to take another picture. His thumb breaches the seam of you to swipe through the arousal flowing freely, collecting it before moving it up to the ripe little berry of your clit. 

It’s wanton the way he looks at you, deeply erotic and you’d be hard pressed to ever remember feeling this aroused- this desired. With every delicious swirl of his thumb your slick flows, the fire of arousal burning bright within every fibre of your being. 

Shutters sound as he keeps up his assault, swirling swirling swirling until he dips into your heat again, wetting his thumb in you and all you can do is pant, hold your legs open and pray that he doesn’t stop. 

“Look at you, ripe as a peach.” He pulls away and you almost cry, a whimper leaves your mouth as you watch him lick his thumb clean with an almost disrespectful gleam in his eye. “Bursting with honey for me.” A pained sigh escapes you now as he dips his thumb again and this time, he strokes with a purpose - tight circles until the coil snaps and you come with a cry. Again the shutters sound but he gives you no respite, two thick fingers spear into the fluttering clutch of your cunt, thick and scissoring you open for his eyes and his lense and it's so much you can barely think straight. 

The orgasm only served to skyrocket your need for him, making you feel almost unhinged. 

“I want you.” You reach out your hand and press your fingers to your clit, he smiles and focuses on where your hands almost touch. His splitting you open, your smaller one sweeping over your clit. 

“I like this- show me how you like to touch yourself my sweet.” He crooks his fingers inside and touches something white hot while you obey. Your other hand pulls the last few buttons of your neckline open to pinch at a nipple and it’s so good you can barely hear anything over your heartbeat thudding in your ears. 

“That's it, you’re doing so well, so wet.” The sounds coming from between your legs are obscene, the wet plunge of his fingers, the shutter of his camera and all too soon you're clenching around his fingers, pushing at them slightly when he doesn’t stop. 

“Absolutely gorgeous.” He pressed another kiss to your thigh before licking you off his fingers. 

He stands and turns from you, replacing the used film - a dreamy smile creeps onto your face to see him adjusting the sizeable bulge at his crotch. In that moment, as your skin tingles and your arousal flows you almost laugh at the thought of any and all trepidation you’d had over this appointment. 

“How do you want me?” You sit up to rest on your elbows while he removes his soft linen shirt, grateful at the golden skin on display now. “Will there be a tripod or something?” You look around momentarily, wondering about the logistics. 

“I don’t use them, the pictures are never the same but I would love to have you on your knees- if you’d like that.” He comes to stand before you - letting you decide how you want this to go. 

“So you won’t be in the pictures?” You pout slightly before pulling the dress off completely. 

“Parts of me will be, my hands, my cock, I want you to be the focus.” He brings his thumb up to swipe at your bottom lip, pressing into it softly, he smiles when you take it into your mouth and you hope your expression is sexy when he takes more pictures.

“So we won’t kiss?” You ask after letting go of his thumb with a pop.

“You want me to kiss you?” He pulls you up to stand in front of him so he can run his free hand up and down your arm, stopping briefly to undo your bra. 

“Yes.” You stare at his mouth, his lower lip plump and begging to be bitten.

He brushes his nose against yours for a moment before pressing his mouth to yours, his kiss is chaste at first but it quickly turns. His tongue swiping at the seam of your lips begging for entrance which you gladly grant him. He licks into your mouth with purpose, pressing himself as close as he can with the camera hanging by his side. You sigh into his mouth when you feel his huge hand cup the back of your neck and all of a sudden his tongue is almost obscene in your mouth. It’s aggressive and it makes you drip, a frenzy coming through as he licks into your mouth before he's pulling away, leaving you almost drunk. 

He places one last kiss on your neck before he guides you to the pillows and blankets set up on the floor. 

The rustling of his clothes reaches your ears as he kneels behind you, his thighs pressed up against the backs of yours and before he touches you the shutters sound, they sound as his palm presses down on your back. They sound as he grabs a handful of your ass, as he pulls your panties down and off. Sounds still as the weeping head of his cock presses against the curve of your ass. 

It’s a heady feeling, to feel him pressed up so close with your pussy dripping in anticipation while he takes his time framing his shots, capturing your desperation for him before you finally feel him coating his thick length in your liquid heat. 

He groans as he splits you open on his dick in one smooth stroke, holding himself still as you both catch your breath. Your skin is burning up, arousal coursing through your veins like electricity, everything heightened ten times over as the shutters sound behind you. 

He rocks slowly, gliding into your soaked cunt over and over, your slick drips out around him as he pulls you apart. You lift your head to stare back at him over your shoulder, seeing him photograph himself entering you and it pulls a throaty moan out of you. He points the camera at you, capturing the no doubt cockdumb expression on your face before he puts it down beside him. 

His pace speeds up and it feels like he's battering against your womb, his hands slips around and he pulls you up close. Your back meets the solid wall of his chest and now he holds your breasts with both hands, nipples pinched gloriously between his fingers.

“I wish I could photograph you like this.” He spits the words out into your ear, his panting breath pushing you closer towards the release you're desperate for, the pressure of it blooming in your core. 

“Make me come-“ Your fingers reach for him, threading through his fine black waves. “Please, please make me come.” He growls at your words and then his fingers are gliding against your clit. “Yes, right there-“ A truly filthy moan fills the air as you clench around his length. 

“There you go sweetling, that’s good, gonna fill you to the brim-“ he grunts with the effort of his fucking into you, his pace growing eratic and after a handful more he seizes- pressing you both forward, he replaces his heavy thrusts with a deep grinding against the plush swell of your ass. 

There is sweat beading in your hairline, heat radiating from your face where it's pressed against the crushed velvet of his pillow. He presses a few kisses to your spine before pulling out with a hiss and suddenly he's turning you over to lay on your back. He moves the pillows and blankets before opening your legs and raising your knees to inspect your still-fluttering pussy.

“Stay just like that my sweet, just like that, I want a picture of that gorgeous little cunt full of my come.” He moves pausing to press kisses to your neck on his journey south, again to lick at one stiffened nipple, then the second. He stares at you briefly, his gaze glued to where you can feel him slowly leaking out. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

He grabs the camera and takes his pictures, some up close, others with his hand on your thigh and finally- with his fingers pushing into the wet clutch of your puffy, filled pussy. 

“You'll have to come back for another session. So many other pictures I’d like to take.” He spreads his fingers inside, somehow making you ache for him again. 

“I think we should take more right now.” You pull his fingers from between your legs, and stick them in your mouth - relishing the pained look on his face.

“Oh yes, we’re nowhere near done.”

-

Tag list: @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @just-here-for-the-moment @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @goldielocks2004 @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @hellovanessax @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @mrs-ghuleh @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @quica-quica-quica @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @mandosmistress @deadhumourist @felicisimor @tuskens-mando @no-droids-on-sunday @sophiefatale2495 @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @maievdenoir @kissasith @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @lorosette @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @allthatsleftbehind @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @planetariumx @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @swtaura @evelynseventyr @send-me-to-valhalla @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @ichigodjarin @oliviajdjarin

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #oberyn au #oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x you #oberyn nymeros martell #prince oberyn #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones au #got au #Frankie morales #javier peña #marcus pike #marcus moreno #din djarin #pero tovar #max phillips #max lord #javi gutierrez #joel miller #dave York #dieter bravo #ezra from prospect #agent whiskey kingsman

[psychedelic-ink]

hello everyone! here you'll find all the fics I've written for the haunted hoedown! like I said before I won't be doing kinktober this year so this is my mini kinktober for the year 2023 🎃 i tried to add more characters from my other fandoms but once again i ended up using mostly pedro characters lol whoops

hope y'all enjoy the hoedown and keep it spooky everyone! 🦇

find all fics on AO3

♡ DAY ONE ➡ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆. stepbrother!frankie x santi's gf!reader

taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

♡ DAY TWO ➡ 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄. dave york x f!reader

murder plot au (lets kill this person together) + "crawl to me"

♡ DAY THREE ➡ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋. priest!ezra x f!reader

priest au + “worship me. until i tell you to stop.”

♡ DAY FOUR ➡ 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍. ai-enhanced!miguel o’hara x f!reader

artificial intelligence au + "here, you are. you tiny thing."

♡ DAY FIVE ➡ 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐓. animal shapeshifter!pero tovar x f!reader

animal shapeshifter au + "you're not actually scared are you? of me?"

♡ DAY SIX ➡ 𝐂𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘. joel miller x f!reader

slasher / summer camp au + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

♡ DAY SEVEN ➡ 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒. jack daniels x f!reader

cosmic horror au + "you're a fucking nightmare. kiss me."

♡ DAY EIGHT ➡ 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐒. cult leader!din djarin x f!reader

cult au + “do you like it when i bleed for you?”

♡ DAY NINE ➡ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖. tasm!peter parker x f!reader

zombie apocalypse au + "every moment might be our last, let's make the most of it."

♡ DAY TEN ➡ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐓. marcus pike x f!reader

inspired by your favorite lana del rey song + “don't you know how sick with love i am for you?”

♡ DAY ELEVEN ➡ 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊. fallen angel!joel miller x f!reader

cyberpunk au + fallen angel au + “i will keep hurting. i will keep killing. anything to protect you.”

♡ DAY TWELVE ➡ 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐗𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒. oberyn martell x f!reader x max phillips

vampire court au + "forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you."

some of the works above will contain dark themes and situations. if that is not your thing please just skip them. every fic will have additional warnings. minors please dni.

if you like what you see please reblog and comment to show support 🖤

#haunted hoedown #haunted hoedown masterlist #hauntedhowdown

[morallyinept]

A list of all my favourite DAVE YORK Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 1

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Desperation - @theywhowriteandknowthings

Dollhouse, Broken Sleep & Wonderful Tonight Featuring Frankie Morales - @psychedelic-ink

Bound For Carnage Series - @psychedelic-ink

Scotch & Cherry - @ghostfanwriter Tutor!Reader

I Can Barely Breathe, True North & Anchor - @yespolkadotkitty

My Girl Featuring Frankie Morales, Your Taste I Crave, Sharpshooter, Kinktober 22 Lactation & After Hours - @foli-vora

Just A Piece - @palioom

The Cabin In The Woods Part 1, Part 2 & Part 3 - @xdaddysprincessxx Dark!Dead Dove

Dave York Masterlist - @absurdthirst So many good ones on there!

Isn't She A Doll? - @proxima-writes

Three Days - @massivedreamer CartelBossF!Reader

Revenge, Stupid Little Heart & Drabble 1 - @toomanystoriessolittletime

Amarum & A Healing Touch - @juletheghoul

Red & Unholy Series - @alwaysdjarin

Summer Schooled Series Featuring Joel Miller, You Say Hate But I Think You Mean The Other Thing Series & Dave Masterlist - @boliv-jenta

My Best Friend's Dad Series & Dave York Masterlist - @whiskeynwriting

The Senator's Daughter Series - @detectivecarisi-1 Bodyguard!Dave

The Secrets We Keep - @wildemaven

The Violence Of You, Dark!Dave Ropes, Reckless, Pitch Black Series Blind!OFC, Stay With Me, Intimidation Tactics Series Featuring Marcus Pike & Special Virgin!Reader - @whataperfectwasteoftime

A Valentine's In Reverse - @littlebirdsbookshelf

1k Smut Sensation Thigh Riding - @thetriumphantpanda

Antagonists - @getitoutofmymindwrites

Thirteen Days Series - @josephquinnswhore

Two For One - @suzdin Featuring Max Phillips

Drown In Your Wrath & Fury & You Made Me A Villain - @movievillainess721

Appreciation Series F!Nanny Reader, The Storm, Religious Corruption Series Virgin!Reader, Silent, This Is Me Trying Series Surgeon!Dave, & A Little Taste - @pedropascalsx

The Good, The Bad & The Naughty, Attending Mr York Series, One Week With Dave York Series, & Cherry Kisses - @popcornforone

Precious Possessions Series - @exquisiteserotonin

Emptiness - @deadhumourist SoftDom!Dave

Desires & Complications Series - @ezrasbirdie Featuring Marcus Pike

Notes On Tutoring Series - @honestly-shite Music College AU

Assistance - @adancedivasmom

Mine - @theewokingdead F!NannyReader

Needs & Wants - @thefloorisbalaclava

Interrogation - @secretwriterpp Dark/Violence Featuring Frankie Morales

Yours, Rulebreaker, Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) & Temptation - @wheresarizona

Eres Mia Series - @loslentesdepedrito Featuring Marcus Pike

Kinktober Day 4 Breath Play - @moralesispunk

Satisfy Me - @whiskeyncoke-redux

Desired Punishment Series Dark!Dave & Office Rendezvous - @coastielaceispunk

Burnt Honey - @pedrito-friskito

Risk - @katareyoudrilling

Larks & Katydids - @kiwisbell AO3 Link

Daddy Dave Masterlist - @pintsizemama

Volatile - @javier-pena

Dave Request - @radiowallet

Façade - @furious-rogue-stuff

Killer Writing Series - @wardenparker

#pedro pascal characters #dave york #fic recs #dave york x f!reader #dave york the equalizer 2 #the equalizer 2 #dave york x reader #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character universe #dave york x you #dave york x female reader

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

I need to be prevented from starting new fics. But THIS IS GOING TO BE GREAT. I blame @patti7dc and @pastelnap for this

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #fanfic #smut #ao3 fanfic #mafia au #au mafia #dave york #max phillips #equalizer 2 #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york smut #dave york x female reader #dave york fanfiction #max phillips smut #max phillips fanfiction #fic: blood money #blood money fic #vi writes