#max phillips smut

[absurdthirst]

Can't Fight Cupid {Max Phillips x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: Human Max, sexism in the the workplace, insults, bickering, drinking, sexual harassment, mentions of drugging, drunk sex, impaired decision making but everyone consents, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, cream-pie, angst, oral sex (male and female receiving), confessions

Comments: Your morning show co-host, Max Phillips drives you mad. Constantly annoying you and bickering with you. At the Cupid's Ball, the weekend before Valentine's Day, you get a little drunk and do something incredibly stupid. Sleep with him.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Max Phillips MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

  You groan, rolling over to slam your hand down on top of your alarm clock. 

It reads 3 am. 

“Fuck.” You huff, feeling exhausted after staying up late last night to talk to your agent, and you regret it now. There’s no choice to snooze, you need to get up. 

Moaning as you force yourself out of your comfy bed, you stumble into the bathroom, turning on the light, and it’s bright enough to make you wince. “God.” You whine, palming your face. Every day, you’re closer to being replaced by some teeny bopper with perky tits and an annoyingly high-pitched voice. You pee and brush your teeth before you start your morning routine. Treadmill. Weights. Protein shake. Shower. Get dressed.

The car pulls up outside your apartment building on time, and you get in to meet your producer, and she starts to ramble about the segments for the show.

You listen to her half-heartedly but stare out of the window. The street lights reflect as they twinkle overnight without anyone but you and a tired few to admire them.

When you arrive at the studio, you’re ushered inside and to your dressing room to get started on the exhausting daily routine of getting ready for TV. 

Your makeup artist is putting on your lipstick when there’s a knock on the door. 

“Goooood morning Vietnammmmm!” He shouts with enough energy to make you want to punch his stupid face. 

“Max.” You huff, turning your head to see him swagger into your dressing room with his designer bespoke suit.

“You ready for the Coleman interview? You sure you’re up to it?” He tuts, leaning over you as he checks out his reflection in the mirror.

“I think if one of us is prepared and able to interview a woman who survived sexual assault at the hands of a powerful man, it’s me. If you did it, she’d be traumatized all over again.” You scoff, crossing your arms.

Max snorts, “whatever, princess. Just don’t make us look bad.” He says, and you roll your eyes, “It’s not me who makes us look bad. You’re the one who flirts with anything that has a pulse.”

Your co-host leans in, a smirk on his face as he meets your eyes in the mirror, “I think you’re just jealous that I never flirt with you…off air.” He adds, his eyes narrow slightly, and you push him away from you. 

“In your fucking dreams, Phillips.” He chuckles, and you want to slap him, but he has already been in the makeup chair and Shelly would kill you if your handprint ruined her work.

Max chuckles again, slowly backing out of your dressing room, but he turns to look at you and says, “see you on the stage, wifey.” He teases and you growl under your breath.

You and Max are the darlings of morning news. The Daily News Show. You’re the “husband and wife” of daytime TV. You aren’t together. No, fuck no. You are both painfully single, unable to hold down a relationship when the show is your entire life. You live and breathe the news. Max has his liaisons, as detailed in every gossip mag from New York to L.A, but you’re the good girl. You could never get away with what he manages to do. You are held to a higher standard and it’s bullshit. You were called a “slut” when you went out with three men in six months. Max has ten flings - barely a weekend each - and he’s revered as “daytime’s most eligible bachelor.” 

You exhale shakily, trying to control your hatred towards Max before you go on air and put on your persona as the loving “TV wife.” You close your eyes and focus until Jimmy, the AD, comes in to tell you that it’s time to get on set. You nod, standing up to make your way through the halls to the set and Max is already sitting at the desk when you arrive. Shelly comes over to dust your face with setting powder and the producers are going over the segments one last time. 

“Right, everyone. Thirty seconds to live.” The director announces, headset on, and you swallow harshly, getting yourself in the zone.

“Don’t fuck up.” Max murmurs and you turn your head to glare at him. 

“You’re the only fuck up here, Phillips.” You hiss back and he chuckles, “at least I’m getting fucked. How long has it been again…? Last one was…that dude from Fallon?” He reminds you of your ex who was a writer over on The Jimmy Fallon Show. 

“Your last one still asleep in your bed?” You spit back, “you even get her name?” You ask and Max frowns. 

“Jessica? No, Jamie. No…shit.” He shakes his head and you roll your eyes. 

“As we are live in ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three…” The director lowers his fingers to be silent and then you straighten up and plaster a smile on your face.

“Good morning and welcome to The Daily News Show.” You introduce yourself with a grin. 

“And I’m Max Phillips. It’s three days until Valentine's Day. Are you ready for the day?” Max asks you as per the teleprompter and you chuckle, “is anyone ready? Our friends over at Saks have some ideas for last-minute gifts later on in the show. Max, did you already get my present?” You question him teasingly like the TV wife you are.

“Of course.” He responds like it’s obvious, “I couldn’t not get my gorgeous co-host something special.” He winks and you internally scoff at his slimy smile. 

“I guess I’ll have to wait and see what you got me.” You giggle and turn back to look at the camera, “let’s take a look at your morning forecast.”

You go off air while the weatherman takes over and Max leans in, “did you get me a present?” He asks and you snort, “you’re lucky I put up with you.” 

Max chuckles, “well, at least we got the Cupid’s Ball tonight.” You groan softly under your breath, having forgotten that was tonight.

You have to go. You need to go. But you desperately want to curl under your duvet with a glass of wine and forget that you will be spending Valentine’s Day alone.

****

You tug on the hem of your skirt as you walk through the hall to the bustling private area of a skyscraper restaurant that overlooks the city where the party is being held. You feel ridiculous in the short red dress your stylist had picked for you, styled with a pair of heels that make you question if they belong in a torture room in the rings of hell. They are insanely uncomfortable and you’re reminded again of why you wish you were back at home curled up on your sofa with a glass of wine watching rom-com movies and shoving chocolate in your mouth. You inhale deeply before you make your way into the room.

Leaning against the bar, Max is already a few drinks in, bored out of his mind and questioning why he has to attend these things. No one wants to talk to him, they want to talk to his morning show personality. The Cupid’s Ball is an annoying reminder that despite his popularity, no one was special in his life. At least no one that he really wanted. Taking a sip of his drink, he nearly chokes when he sees you walk into the room. The blood red dress calls to him and he smirks as he puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly across the floor, catcalling you obnoxiously.

You roll your eyes and make a beeline to the bar where Max is, greeting people who are half drunk along the way. “You have one too many or you trying to make me doubt myself in this dress?” You question Max, trying to figure out his motive. You feel itchy in the dress now as his dark eyes trail along your form.

Max chuckles and waggles his brows suggestively. “You did get me a present.” He jokes. “Now put it on the floor where it belongs.” He knows that the network wouldn’t be happy with a sexual harassment lawsuit, but you wouldn’t file one of those. You enjoy cutting him down with scathing retorts too much. “Drink first, fuck later? Or fuck now, drink later?” He asks, offering you his own glass.

You wrinkle your nose, shaking your head, “in your fucking dreams, Phillips.” You huff and he chuckles, “if only you knew…” 

You shake your head and push his glass away, “knowing you, you probably roofied it.” You call the bartender over and order a Cosmo, wanting to enjoy the evening even if your co-star insists on annoying you to death. “What are you doing hanging by the bar? No pretty interns to harass?”

“Why harass interns when I can harass you?” He gives you a hurt pout and takes his drink back and takes a sip of it to prove that he hasn’t done anything to it. “Besides, if I didn’t bother you, you would think that I was body snatched.” He snorts and looks out over the throng of people filing in.

You snort, “that’s true. I would think you’d been abducted by aliens if you didn’t make my life hell every day.” You thank the bartender for your drink. “To being painfully single because we made our careers our lives.” You toast as you hold your drink towards him.

Max lifts his glass in salute and snorts. “You’ve still got time, sweet cheeks.” He tells you. “You can put those birthing hips to use.” He smirks when you glare at him and shrugs. “What? You don’t want to have rugrats attached to the tit?” His eyes drop to your chest. “Pity.”

Your eyebrows raise, “and you are thinking about reproducing? Good God. The world couldn’t cope with a miniature Max Phillips.” You chuckle and shake your head, “besides…you’re lucky. You could knock up every woman from New York to L.A and you would keep your job. Me? I’d be out the door as soon as I peed on a test.” You take a sip of your drink and shift from one foot to another, unused to this kind of talk directed at you from Max. Usually he’s boasting about his conquests and how much better he looks on camera.

“In the year of our lord, 2024?” Mad huffs and shakes his head. “No. The network would exploit it. Have ‘baby and me’ segments.” In reality, the only way the network would do that is if their hand was forced, but Max isn’t willing to give up his co-host. Despite your attitude towards him off camera, the public loved you two together. “All you’d have to do is announce it on air and tell viewers the special segments to come. A taped sonogram. Let our morning show viewers fall in love with the little brat.”

“The only way they’d do that is if it was our baby and to do that, we’d have to have sex and I know that you prefer them pliable and dumb.” You glance around the room, spotting the producers laughing together and the execs making a short experience before they helicopter out to their mansions.

Max scoffs. “That would never happen.” He agrees, although there’s a frown on his face as he turns back to the bar. “Better that we focus on our careers, right? That will keep us warm when we’re in our nursing homes.” He chuckles. “When we turn forty-five.”

“You’re closer to that than me, old man.” You taunt him, “forty this year. You gonna be able to handle getting older?” You nudge him, knowing that he prides himself on his looks and Devil May care attitude.

He shoots you a dirty look before glancing at the mirror behind the bar. “Don’t look a day over thirty-four.” He huffs before looking at you with a smirk. “Must be all the endorphins from sex.”

You can’t deny that he looks good. He always looks good. Must be the pussy and Botox he gets on the sly. “You gonna come out of my cake at my party like Marilyn Monroe?” Max asks and you shake your head, “no way, Phillips.” You snort and down the rest of your drink, gesturing for the bartender to get you another one. “Didn’t even know you were planning a party.”

He pouts at you again, looking hurt. “If I don’t throw myself a party, who would?” He asks, rolling his eyes. “Not like you would throw me one. You don’t even want to go out for that drink after work like I keep asking you to.”

You huff, turning to face him after you thank the bartender for setting your drink down. “Because it’s just to - to mock me. You don’t like me. I’m not your friend. We act like we like each other on tv but that’s it. I have a face for radio, remember?” You remind him of what he said to you the first day you met five years ago.

Max stares at you for a second and then laughs. Bending over the bar and laughing so hard tears come to his eyes. “You thought I meant that?” He gasps out, looking over at you and laughing again. “Sweetcheeks- that was- I was yanking your fucking chain.” He admits, calming down enough to speak. “You’re fucking gorgeous and you know it. Charming, witty. The whole package.”

You stare at him, shocked at his outburst. He’s flirted with you, especially on screen, but to hear him say he thinks you’re gorgeous…it takes you back. You pick up your drink, taking another gulp. “You gave me a fucking complex. I- I thought I wasn’t good enough.” You hiss at him, “I always thought - well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m going to go suck up to the execs before they leave. Try to keep my job another year.” You say and pick up your drink, striding over to Mr. Parker, the head of daytime tv.

Max shakes his head, watching your hips sway as you stride away from him. He had never imagined you would have taken him seriously. You always treat him like a joke, so why would you believe that? Of course you’re gorgeous, the network thrived on beautiful people and made it their mission to hire the prettiest talent in the business. Max orders another drink for himself and for you before deciding to join you. A little corporate ass kissing was never a bad move for the career.

You smile as Mr. Parker looks down at your cleavage. It’s not the healthiest dynamic at the network but you let some things slide in the interest of keeping your job. You giggle at his lame joke, trying to act like he’s so clever, when Max comes over and replaces your now empty glass with a new drink. “Ah Phillips, I was just telling your pretty co-anchor here about some changes we will be making to the outfits. I’m thinking we could get away with a couple of inches higher, don’t you?”

Max lifts his brows and pretends to consider it. It’s an insult and everyone here knows it. “Why don’t we have the weather girl in a bikini?” He suggests. “But for our hard hitting stories, I think the length of the dress won’t matter, we’re behind a desk.”

“I was thinking maybe our lady here could be standing up. Presenting in front of the screens like they do on other shows. That way she can show off those stems.” He says and you shake your head, “the whole point of the show is for me to be beside Max. That’s what the viewers like, that’s what they want.” You explain and Mr. Parker hums, “we shall see. I’ll speak to the producers…see what they think.” You nod, offering him a forced smile. You know the producers will have your back on this ridiculous suggestion.

Max glances at you and knows that you are unhappy with the idea and he will back you up. “So what’s your golf game looking like, Paul?” He asks, hoping to steer the conversation on to friendlier topics. “Every time I’m in the weeds, I think of your epic shot.” Paul puffs up proudly and nods, starting to tell Max about his latest game.

You down the rest of your drink and smile at your boss, “excuse me.” You say and make your way back across the event room to the bar, ordering another drink. You shouldn’t drink so much but between all the men in the room that look at you like a piece of meat, you’re ready to get drunk and forget the reality that your time is limited because of your age. They’ll want some twenty year old to take your place soon. You lean against the bar and thank the bartender when he sets another cosmo down. You sigh and turn to pick it up when you feel someone behind you. “Looking gorgeous as ever.” The voice of the foreign correspondent, Jack. 

You turn to face him, a stiff smile on your face. “Jack.” You greet him, hating how he leans in even closer. His disgusting cologne wafting over you. He’s always been a little intrusive.

His eyes are dark and his smirk is supposed to be charming, but it comes off as creepy. “What are you doin’ over here by yourself?” He asks. “Rarely ever see you off Phillips’ dick.”

“I’ve never been on his dick. Ever.” You clarify, “I’m just sipping my drink. Enjoying the party.” You hum and take a step back from him. 

“Nice to hear. You could be on my dick if you want.” Jack smirks, licking his lower lip and you recoil. 

“No. I- I don’t want that.” You say, shaking your head and trying to let him down gently.

“You know, you’d probably move up from the morning show if you weren’t such a stuck up, frigid cunt.” Jack hisses, a scowl on his face, pissed off at being shot by the morning bitch. He is a foreign correspondent, respected and revered. He shoots you a nasty little grin. “Pretty soon your tits won’t be perky enough to keep your job and you’ll be doing the weather in Kalamazoo.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “and I’ll be telling everyone about your unwanted advances to me every single time you’re near me. I will tell HR and get you fired.” You hiss and Jack growls at you, “you’re a fucking bitch.” 

You smile, “thank you, Jack.” You remain tall just as Max appears, his hand on your back. “Everything okay here?” He asks and you stiffen slightly, “everything is fine, isn’t it Jack?” You ask the correspondent, who scoffs and walks off. 

“What happened?” Max asks, a frown on his face. 

“Jack was being an asshole. As per usual.” You huff and turn back towards your drink.

There’s more to it than that, but you will never confide in him. Apparently he can’t even try to pretend to care. He pulls his hand away, and slips it into his pocket. “He’s an old drunk that thinks the weather girl is still picked on a casting couch.” Max snorts. “No means yes to him.” He warns you. “You say I’ll spike your drink, but I wouldn’t put it past that prick.” He scoffs.

You sigh, leaning against the counter, “you’re right. He - I’ve heard stories about the interns and some of the make-up girls.” You confess, rubbing your neck, “you know…you’re not as bad as him. You’re a good man really. I just like seeing that vein pop in your forehead.” You confess, starting to feel giddy from the booze.

Max snorts and rolls his eyes, his own alcohol consumption starting to make his body hum. “You just say that because you have to pretend to like me.” He huffs, sending you a pout before he slides into a grin to cover his hurt feelings. “You think I’m pretty though. No matter how much you don’t want to admit it.”

You scoff, rearing back from him, until you soften and lean closer again. “You are pretty. So pretty.” You confess, reaching out to run your finger down his cheek, “unfair how handsome you are.” You whine slightly, “I don’t have to pretend.” You admit with a whisper.

​​He shivers at your touch and leans into it the drinks clouding his judgment and making him speak before thinking about it. “You think I’m unfair?” He huffs. “I have to constantly hide the fucking hard on I’ve got around you.” He pouts. “Do you know how fucking distracting your perfume is? You don’t need perfume for tv, and when you’re near me, all I can smell is you and imagine….”

The booze doesn’t let you question the validity of his confession. You decide to revel in it and you lean in towards him, “imagine…?” You question, your eyes flicking down to his lips.

“Imagine you.” Max is too wrapped up in his confession to realize he shouldn’t say this to you. Shouldn’t say this at all. “Head between your thighs, tasting you, making you moan my name so sweetly before I slide inside you.” He pants breathlessly, cock twitching in his pants. “Watching you cum because of me, because of the way I touch you.”

You can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips at the thought. “Maxwell Phillips.” You gasp, your stomach twisting with arousal as you soak the lace panties you’re wearing. You glance around and are grateful that no one notices when you grab Max’s hand and drag him through the crowd and out into the hallway. “I want you to fuck me, Max.” You beg him breathlessly, grabbing onto his tie to pull him into the nearest empty room, a function room with tables and chairs.

“Wait, really?” His eyes widen and he’s not hesitant, he’s shocked as shit. But the way you are dragging him closer makes every caution sign in his mind filter away as you eagerly press your lips to his as you continue to back into the dimly lit room. “Fuck.” He moans, pressing against you when your ass hits a table and his hands are cradling your hips, helping you up onto it as your tongue slides into his mouth.

You don’t think about the consequences of this. Deciding to just feel for once, you groan as Max slides his tongue against yours and his hands explore your body. You moan echoes in the empty room as he kisses your jaw and he settles between your thighs as you open them for him.

He turns greedy. Hands filling themselves with your flesh, groaning into your mouth at the taste of the liquor from your tongue. The pure sense of you. The heat of your skin makes him twitch and groan again when he presses two fingers to the damp core of your lace panties.

You whimper, “please Max” into his jaw as he rubs your clit through the lace. He doesn’t deny you as he slides his fingers beneath the elastic of your panties and presses his manicured fingers against the bundle of nerves. “Oh God.” You moan, sliding your hands down his chest to fumble with his belt, trying to undo the stupidly expensive buckle until you can finally reach in and pull his hard cock out of his equally expensive pants. “Fucking hell.” You curse as you wrap your fingers around the girth.

He chuckles, kissing along your jaw. 

“Try hiding that all the time.” He jokes, breaking off into a groan when you squeeze him firmly and start to stroke his cock. “Fuck, baby.” He whines, hips jerking forward into your grip and he twists his wrist to press his thumb against your clit while starting to work two fingers inside you.

You pant as he pushes two thick digits into you. You hate to admit it but you’ve imagined his hands on you, inside of you, many times during segments where the camera is off of you. You jerk his cock, swiping your thumb over the head to gather the pre-cum that has gathered there. “I need - I need you to - oh shit.” You moan when he curls his fingers just right inside of you.

“That what you needed?” He groans, biting along your neck gently while he’s trying not to get too excited. Your cunt is so tight and he doesn’t want to cum too quickly when he finally gets to fuck you. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight. My cock is gonna feel so good inside you.” He moans, kissing along your chest and nudging his nose between your breasts as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“Yes. Oh shit. Max. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me-” You cut yourself off with a squeal as you clamp down around his fingers. Your grip on his cock loosening as your orgasm hits you and you pant his name into his hair as he licks along the top of your breast. “Fuck me.” You beg, “need you inside of me, Phillips.”

He doesn’t even consider birth control, he’s listened to the segments where you’ve talked about your own choice and knows you well enough to know you don’t have anything. His fingers are soaked and he pulls them out with a groan of your name. Batting your hands away to wrap around his cock and soak it with your juices.

You spread your legs wider and watch him as he positions the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing inside of you with a low groan. “Oh God, Max.” You whine, throwing your head back as he pushes into you and stretches you out.

He hisses as your tight walls surround him. You’re so much tighter and hotter than he ever imagined and he imagined it a lot. Slowly bottoming out and groaning your name again as he tries to keep from cumming. “Holy shit babe.”

You slide your hands under his bespoke jacket, clawing at his back as he twitches inside of you. "I need you to move." You plead. You'll think back to this moment later and cringe at how needy you sound but for right now, you need him to fuck you like you've secretly wanted him to since you started working together.

“Fuck.” Max can’t resist you. One hand planted on the table beside your head and he draws his hips back to plunge into you again. Enjoying the sharp gasp you give him and craving more as he leans down and presses his lips to yours. Starting to thrust into you with harsh, sharp slaps of his hips that rock the table while you cling to him and writhe underneath him.

You slide your tongue against his as he rocks into you. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could hear you. The music is faint from the function room where your work event is being held but you don’t care, too busy focusing on Max and the way he’s thrusting into you like his life depends on it. “Fuck, this is - it’s so good, baby.” You whine and wrap your legs around him, your heels falling to the floor.

Max grunts, agreeing completely as he bites his lip. “So- fuck- so good.” He groans your name again and bites down on your lip hungrily. “Baby, fuck, you’re so tight. How- fuck, you’re so good.”

"Ke-Kegals." You reveal breathlessly, "gotta - gotta keep fit to stay on TV." You whimper when he hits deep and you lift your hips up to meet his thrusts. "Keep going, Phillips, don't you dare stop." You demand when his pace stutters.

“So demanding.” He huffs, flashing you a grin as he nods. Taking a deep breath and rocking his hips harder. “Fuck, it’s your fault. So fucking tight.”

You shake your head, closing your eyes, "you're so fucking thick, Max. God, I don't - no wonder you have so many damn flings." You pant and he drops his hips just right to make you gasp when he hits something devastating.

He chuckles breathlessly, not even bothering to admit that he doesn’t have as many flings as he might have led you to believe. You would never think he was telling you the truth. “You’re tight.”

“Shit, Max. I- I’m gonna- just like that. Keep going like that.” You demand and groan when he keeps hitting that spot. “That’s it baby. Oh shit. Max!” You cry out, clamping down on his cock as he makes you cum hard. Harder than you have for longer than you’d ever care to admit.

“Thaaaaaaat’s it.” He groans, eyes nearly rolling back and he has to put more effort into fucking you from how hard you squeeze hum. “That’s fucking it. Cream all over me baby.” He groans. “Soak my cock with that pretty cunt.”

His words would usually make you cringe if you weren’t practically shaking beneath him as he makes you cum. “Oh God. It’s so good. So good. I want - want you to cum.” You plead, pressing your heels into his ass to push him impossibly deeper inside of you.

“Gonna - fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He pants out breathlessly, sweat rolling down his forehead but he ignores it. Too lost in the sensation of your cunt. “Fuck, fuck you’re so fucking wet, baby.” He praises. “Gonna cum, fuck, fuck-“ he lets out a strangled groan of your name when his hips stutter and he thrusts deep one last time, painting your walls with ropes of cum.

Moaning in delight as he fills you up, you caress his back under his jacket, and tilt your head up to kiss along his jaw. “Not too bad, Phillips.” You tease breathlessly as he rocks himself through his orgasm.

He huffs out a chuckle and shakes his head, rocking slowly as he pumps every spurt of cum into you. “Not too bad yourself.” He grunts, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours once more before he starts to pull out of you to watch his cum drip. “Now that’s a pretty sight.” He hums, delighted to see his cum leaking out of your cunt.

You roll your eyes and sit up, standing on shaking legs to pick up your panties. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. You’re gonna go back in there and act like this didn’t happen. We have to act like this didn’t happen, you understand?” You ask him, your eyes wide and pleading. If everyone knew you and Max had sex, you’d be branded a slut and he’d be revered for conquering you.

Max’s plan to ask you if you want to get out of here dies on his tongue and he adopts an easy grin. “No problem, sweet cheeks.” He chuckles and looks away from you as he tucks his cock back into his pants. “Can’t have anyone thinking that something happened. Might keep me from getting lucky with that new intern tonight.” He lies and starts to straighten his tie and smooth down his vest. Once he feels like he can look at you and not show you how upset he is, he tosses you a wink. “Thanks for the sex, baby.” He hums as he turns around and whistles while strolling out of the empty room.

You watch him walk out and you swallow harshly, ignoring the way your eyes sting with tears. It’s not his fault that you gave in and now you wonder what will happen to your working relationship. You let your guard slip. You can’t let that happen again. Walking out of the room on shaky legs, you make your way back into your work event, grabbing your clutch from the side and you don’t say another word as you swiftly exit the party, ignoring Max’s stare as his cum settles in your panties while you quickly leave before anyone notices what happened.

Sighing softly as you walk out of the party, Max wonders why you let him touch you. Was it a drunken mistake? A calculated ploy to get him fired for misconduct? He frowns as he turns back to the bar and motions for the bartender. He will pretend like it never happened and see if you do the same.

The weekend passes and you freak out about sleeping with Max. It’s changed everything. You don’t know if you’re going to be able to look him in the eye as your car travels to the studio. The producer calls your name, bringing you out of your thoughts and all you can do is nod. You have no idea what they were saying but soon, you’re entering the building and making your way up to the floor for the show. “Good morning.” Your intern, Natalie, greets you with your morning coffee and you thank her. Praying you don’t see Max until you get on set, you settle into your chair to review the segments and wait for the make-up and hair artists.

Max rolls his shoulders back and purposefully changes his step to one that is lighthearted and full of energy. “How are we doing this gorgeous morning?” He asks as he steps into the hair and makeup room, seeing you already in your chair and he hates how his heart pangs because he didn’t hear from you at all. Not that it’s surprising, just disappointing. “Everyone have a good weekend? Mine was amazing.” He boasts, waggling his brows playfully. “Didn’t get out of the bed, if you know what I mean.” He lies, knowing he spent the weekend depressed and wondering what the fuck happened Friday night. 

He breezes by you and settles down into his own chair, pulling out the eye mask he carries with him with the serum that costs an arm and a leg, the promise of less wrinkles meaning he will pay any price. “Need some more rest.”

You swallow harshly, keeping your eyes on the script. The ghost of his touch has haunted you all weekend and you don’t know how to feel about his nonchalant attitude to you and the artists in the room. You wonder who took up his bed after you, your stomach twisting at the idea of it being that young new intern that seems eager to please. You turn to look at him when he places the eye mask on his face and your expression is one of heartbreak and longing - at least that’s what the make-up and hair stylists will say later when they gossip over coffee. “Busy weekend?” You ask eventually, trying to sound lighthearted.

“Yep.” He pops the p and sighs with a nostalgia that is solely for you and the night he got to touch you. “You? How was your weekend? Anything fun and new?” He asks, tilting his head up and removing the mask now that his stylist is here. His eyes focus on you with a serious gaze.

You can’t tell him you sat around all weekend having a crisis about what happened between you. “Oh, I was busy. I went out. Had dinner. Some drinks.” You say vaguely, “had a late night on Saturday so spent most of Sunday in bed.” You smirk, forcing yourself to give the impression that you weren’t alone.

“Ohhhh ho! Someone got lucky!” Max plasters a cocky look on his face and waggles his brows even though he’s pissed you fled and apparently went to fuck someone else. “Was it good? Bet it was good, but I would have been better, sweet cheeks.” He teases like he normally would have, but the words taste slightly bitter.

“In your dreams, Phillips.” You spit half heartedly, not wanting to elaborate on your lie as you hate the fact that he’s ruined everyone else for you. You’ve never cum so fast and so hard. Most men finish before you can and then won’t even help you get off. You’ve never felt that kind of electricity. The artist's exchange looks behind you as you and Max are distracted by your own turbulent thoughts. “Besides, sounds like you were warm and cozy in your bed with a new floozy.”

“You know how it is.” Max shrugs carelessly. “Friday night plans fell through so I had to improvise.” He stares at you for a moment longer before turning his attention to the hair stylist. “Can you make my hair extra shiny this morning, babe?” He asks, dropping his eyes to his hair and reaching up to fix a hair out of place. “Want to look my best for the cameras.”

You huff, shaking your head, “always the same. Always wanting the spotlight and - and always being so goddamn selfish.” You growl at him, batting the brush away from your face as you stand up and mutter about needing the bathroom before you rush out of the room. You hate that Max doesn’t even seem to remember that you had sex on Friday night. You were just another notch on his belt.

Max’s eyes follow you out of the room and the frown on his face isn’t even registering to him, although it’s being noticed by the other people in the room. Their glances to each other pointed and the hairstylist finally answers him. “Sure, Max. No problem.” She hums, running her fingers through his hair and Max sighs. “Just do whatever.”

You stare into the mirror in the bathroom, preparing yourself to head back out there and act like nothing is wrong. One drunken night with Max and your world is spinning out of control. You’ve worked so hard, focused on your career, and now you feel like you’re losing it all because you can’t stop thinking about how he felt, how he smelt, how he sounded. His moan of your name seems to play on a loop in your head and it’s driving you crazy. Hands shaking, you gather yourself as you head back into the make up room, glad to see Max is gone as you get ready to go on air.

Sitting behind the desk, Max tries to shake off the feeling that you are upset at him. You are the one who had left. Fled the party after begging him to fuck you. He’s kind of pissed off about it now. Setting him up to look like an asshole. He shuffles through the notes for the upcoming show and clears his throat, trying to get the smell of you out of his mind, his cock refusing to soften.

You spritz on your perfume, just to torture Max after what he told you, and you step onto the set to sit down at the desk next to Max. The team comes over to adjust your mic and you pick up your notes.

As soon as you sit down, a cloud of your perfume settles over him and makes Max groan. His cock twitching in his pants and he drops his head into his hand. “Max. You good?” The producer calls out from beside the camera man and he has to lift his head and pretend he’s not incredibly turned on. 

“All good, just remembered I didn’t turn off the coffee maker this morning.” He lies.

You turn your head to look at him, eyebrows raised, and you think that the groan is in annoyance at having to sit next to you. “I should’ve called in sick.” You mutter and shake your head before the AD announces the countdown to live. When you are counted down to one, you plaster a smile on your face and straighten your back, eager to do a good job even if inside, you’re angry and confused at Max and his reaction like Friday night was nothing.

“Good morning and welcome to the Daily New Show.” Max tries to keep himself even more energetic than normal to make up for his turbulent feelings. “I hope everyone is having a fabulous Monday morning and we’ve got an impressive show for you today. As you know, it is Valentine’s Day so I hope you’re all prepared. I know I am.” He chuckles and turns towards you and introduces you as his lovely co-host. “Did you like those chocolates I put in your room this morning?”

You know Max didn’t put anything in your room but you play along, “of course. I’ll be enjoying some of those with my coffee later. Did you get my present?” You tease him playfully on camera, knowing you didn’t get him anything either but you want to make the viewers think you and him are the best of friends.

“No…” his eyes widen playfully and he tosses you a grin. “Whaddya get me?” He asks, knowing you didn’t get him anything. “Hopefully something good, because I’m worth it.” He winks at the camera and chuckles, knowing that you would not be thinking the same thing.

You shake your head, "you'll have to wait and find out. I'm sure you're gonna love it." You promise with a grin and turn back towards the camera. "Talking of gifts, let's go to Katie who has some last minute gift ideas for those who need something for the one they love." You smile at the camera and slump when they count you out. "Chocolates." You scoff, "you've never even gotten me a coffee."

Max rolls his eyes and snorts. “And? Not like you’ve ever given me anything either? Maybe looks of disgust, but I don’t count those, sweet cheeks.” The sad thing is, he had bought you some chocolates, the first year you were on air for your birthday, but you hand said you wanted no reminders of getting older so he hadn’t given them to you. “Only another fifty-six minutes in my company, you’ll survive.”

You sigh and sit up straight, unsure of what to say. You hate that you’ve reverted back to your old bickering, knowing that this won’t get you anywhere after what happened on Friday. You’re confused about how you feel. You wanted to ask him to come home with you after you slept together but you know you’d put your job on the line if something went wrong and Max would always be looking for the next best thing.

Max sighs softly when you don’t say anything and rolls his shoulders back as the countdown to the cameras being back on you starts. He should just forget Friday ever happened, it’s obvious that you regret it. “Thank you, Katie. Hopefully all the men out there without a plan can get it together and not disappoint their ladies, right?” He asks you, turning his head to look at you seriously. “Although I’m more of a romantic dinner at home, myself. Candlelight, soft music, bottle of wine.” He shrugs. “Nothing like a homemade carbonara.” It’s scripted, but true. He did prefer evenings in. 

You offer him a nod and a smile, “sounds like my kind of romantic night in, Max.” You wink and continue with the prompter. It’s hard to ignore the way he stares at you sometimes. The intensity in his look has you shifting in your chair and when you are countered out, you immediately stand up and remove your mic, making your way into your dressing room. It’s impossible to forget the way he felt inside of you, the way he sounded. You can’t forget him and it’s torturing you. You wipe your forehead and place your hands on your hips as the door opens and you turn to see Max standing there. “I can’t do this anymore.” You admit, “I can’t sit next to you every day and act like nothing happened between us.”

“You?” He snorts and shakes his head. “You are the one that left. Walked away without a word and you didn’t call me. So how am I supposed to know what you want? You want me to quit? Too bad.” He scoffs. “You will just have to deal.” He’s pissed off now. Pissed that it meant so little to you and now you want him gone so you don’t have to live with your mistake.

“I- I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about how you sounded. How you felt. I- it’s torturing me.” You choke, “I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I thought it was for the best and I figured you would act like it didn’t happen and go back to your one night stands but - shit, Phillips. I fucking hate you for getting under my skin like this.” You hiss at him, pissed at yourself as well.

“I don’t have a lot of one night stands.” Max admits, shaking his head when you scoff. “You were- you don’t fucking see it?” He asks, lunging forward and pressing into your dressing room so the door closes and grabs your neck to drag you closer to kiss. “You don’t see that I’m crazy about you?” He hisses before he kisses you feverishly.

Your eyes widen at first contact until your brain stops working and you relax into him. Letting him kiss you, his fingers digging into the back of your neck, and you moan into his mouth until your senses return. You push him away, "stop. We - we can't do this. If it goes wrong. It will go wrong and then our careers - we can't do this, Max."

“Goddamn you.” Max hisses, stepping back and his eyes are filled with nothing but hurt. “You only give a damn about yourself and you’re fucking toying with me.” He clenches his jaw and turns around. “Happy fucking Valentine’s Day.” He spits, storming out of the room, humiliated that he put himself on the line again and you are rejecting him.

You stare at him as he slams the door behind him, your lips tingling from the kiss and your hands shake as you touch them as if trying to erase his kiss from your skin. It doesn’t work. You feel your eyes sting as you grab your things and change into your leggings and hoodie before you head home. Your head is aching and you try to think about the reasons why it would be wrong to give Max a chance.

Max berates himself the entire way back to his apartment. Hating how he had admitted to you that he doesn’t have flings. Knowing that you would just use it against him. His phone contacts land on his agent and he wonders if he should call him. Let him know what’s going on in case you decide to go for the throat and in the end, he can’t do it. He will quietly put in for evening anchor and let you have the morning show. It’s what you want anyway.

You bite your lower lip as you stand outside of Max’s building, the doorman recognising you and sending you up. You thank him and fiddle with the bag in your hand, the present you bought for the man you’ve secretly been in love with for years. You ring the doorbell and wait for Max to answer the door.

Max had changed from the suit he had worn to comfortable sweats and a t-shirt, figuring he would spend the rest of the day wallowing in self pity and order DoorDash for dinner since he was all alone for yet another Valentine’s Day. Groaning when the doorbell peels, he wonders if it’s the lady from the third floor who loves to come give her his opinion on the show. She’s old and her husband died last year, so he tries not to shoo her away too quickly, but he’s not in the mood for company. Dragging himself off the couch he opens the door to find you standing there, no make up and in leggings, looking more beautiful than you deserve. “What do you want?” He demands.

You stare at him, unused to seeing him in relaxed clothing, he looks younger. You sigh and shift from one foot to the other. “I was wrong. To push you away. I can’t - I can’t keep denying myself the chance to be happy because I am terrified that everything I have worked for will go up in flames. I have been in love with you since we started working together and that day I saw you speak to that old lady when we did the segment on Alzheimer’s and you were so sweet and kind. I had never seen you like that before, and it made me realize that I had fallen in love with you, but I kept that hidden because I was scared. I was fucking terrified Max, that you would reject me because you have the world at your feet and can have any woman you want, what would make me special enough for you to love me? then you kept mentioning all your flings and I knew that I would never get the chance to be with you. I didn’t want to risk everything but Friday, I put everything on the line and then realized that everything could go wrong and I got scared. I got so fucking scared and I am so sorry that I acted like nothing happened when all I want is to have you again and again until you send me away.”

Max stares at you, digesting the verbal book you’ve just thrown at him and he drops his shoulders. “Do you want to come in?” He asks, unsure if you are planning on running away again or if you want to actually talk. He opens the door wider and none of the normally sarcastic comments come out of his mouth, unable to put on a front any more.

You deflate, nodding as you step into his apartment, and you admire the decor. Masculine but warm and you know he probably paid an interior designer to help him out. He shuts the door behind you and you fiddle with the bag in your hand. “I’m sorry to just show up.” You murmur, glancing around his apartment.

“Not like I had plans tonight.” Max shrugs it off and sighs. “Can I get you something to drink? Water, tea, tequila?” He swallows and rocks his jaw before you can even answer. “Why did you leave? Did you regret it?”

You stare at him, wondering if he heard everything you said. “Did you not- I left because I was scared you’d reject me. That I was just a conquest and you’d go back to your flings. I didn’t want to ruin our careers by getting messy emotions involved. Because - because I was a coward.”

“But you aren’t a coward.” Max argues, frowning fiercely at the idea. “You’re fucking amazing. Powerful, confident, a real ball buster when you have to be. You push boundaries and demand respect - and earn it.” He tells you. “You’re gorgeous, smart, kind of funny, brilliant at reading an audience and you have so much compassion. But one thing you are not….is a coward.”

His words make your eyes widen and you swallow harshly. “I was - I am scared. Scared of getting hurt. Scared of reaching for you, for something that could ruin me. In every way in life. I love you, Max, and that night…I broke. I couldn’t hold back from what I wanted anymore and I was an asshole to run away. I don’t want to run anymore. I know what I want. I know how I feel.”

“I thought I had you that night.” Max admits quietly, your words scaring him slightly and making him wish this had happened years ago. “I thought I finally got what I had wanted for so long.” He sends you a small grin. “Was going to ask if you wanted to leave the party. Go get dinner that night.”

You shake your head, tears stinging in your eyes a little. “I shouldn’t have - God, I was an idiot. I should’ve stayed. I’m sorry.” You confess and he stares at you again. “I- I can go. I just wanted to give you your gift.” You say, handing him the bag.

“You- you got me something?” He asks, taking the bag and then reaching for your arm as you try to turn away. “Wait.” He begs quietly. “Don’t run away again.”

You don’t move, looking down at his hand on your arm, and you nod, turning towards him again. “I want you to open it.” You say, “and read the note.” You tell him and he nods, setting the bag down on the counter.

The box is one that he recognizes and he shoots you a confused look. “I don’t-“ he starts but you shake your head. “Read the note.” You repeat and he nods, diving back into the bag to pull out a red envelope.

You watch him open the envelope. You had them write on the note “to the one I adore” and you hope he doesn’t reject you. You wanted to show him how you feel, to show him that you know him. Even down to his dream watch.

“I don’t- I can’t believe you bought this.” He admits, looking up at you and looks at you with amazement. “It’s the exact watch I’ve been wanting.” He admits. “I just could never justify buying it for myself. How did you-?”

“Saved up. I got a bonus when I resigned my contract. Got myself a purse and I only made it this far because of you…wanted to say thank you for being there for me every day.” You tell him shyly, “I wanted to show you how I felt without actually telling you.”

“I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head and sets the card down before he steps closer to you. “I can’t believe you.” He reaches up and caresses your cheek. “I feel bad because I didn’t get you anything.”

You shake your head against his palm, “it’s fine. I didn’t know when I would give you this. I’ve had it for a while. Trying to summon up the courage to tell you how I felt, to not be terrified.” You bite your lip as his dark eyes burn into yours.

“You shouldn’t have been terrified.” Max scoffs quietly. “I’ve not actually slept with anyone in months, nearly a  year.” He admits. “Too busy being hung up on my co-worker.”

You lean into his palm and reach out to caress his cheeks with your hands. “Gladys the cleaner?” You tease and he chuckles, “damn. How did you know?” He asks and you giggle, leaning in to nudge your nose against his. “Please don’t break my heart.” You plead, “because it’s yours.”

“I sat home all weekend and sulked because you left.” He shakes his head and chuckles. “I don’t want something casual. If we do this, I want it to be a real relationship. Dates in, dates out in town, sleepovers and being disgusting together.” He smirks at you. “Everything.”

“People already think we are fucking. The unofficially married couple of daytime tv. I don’t see why we can’t make it official? I want to be disgusting with you, Phillips.” You grin, “I want everything with you.”

“Yeah?” Max grins back at you and leans in to nudge his nose against yours. “You know what we didn’t do Friday?” He asks teasingly. “I didn’t see how fucking hard you can cum on my tongue.”

You whimper, your hands sliding down to caress his neck and his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm. “You can find out if you want? I want to see how much you cum down my throat too.” You murmur, sliding your hand lower until you’re rubbing his semi through his sweats. “I gotta say, I love you in casual wear.”

“Yeah?” He groans quietly, hardening under your touch. “I think I love you in leggings. You like it for the easier access?” He twitches when you squeeze him and pant softly. “Baby. I- fuck, can I touch you?” He begs, a gentleman despite his bragging. “Please let me touch you.”

“I think I’ll have to kill you if you don’t touch me, Phillips.” You demand playfully, reaching into his sweats to pull his hard cock out. “God, I didn’t get a good look and - no wonder you’re so damn cocky.” You groan and let go of him to spit in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his girth.

Max would chuckle, but he’s too busy diving under your shirt to cup your tits. “Want you naked this time.” He moans, rocking his hips into your hand. “Touch you everywhere. Fuck, baby, I- should I eat you out first, have you sit on my face or kneel between those pretty thighs?” The good thing about getting up so fucking early is that it’s not even noon yet, he’s got the rest of the day to spend with you if you don’t run away again.

You whimper when he squeezes your tits over your bra. "Fuck, Max. However you want me. I am yours." You promise, "just touch me." You plead, pressing your thighs together to get some friction.

Max leans in and bites your jaw. “Come on, baby.” He coos, excited to touch you properly. “Want to show you my bedroom.” He teases. “Give you the full Max Phillips tour.”

You would normally roll your eyes but right now, you desperately need him. The ghost of his touch has been on your mind since Friday and you need it, you need him. He guides you into his bedroom and it's clean, the bed is made. “I like your style, Phillips.” You smile at him as he lets go of your hand so he can pull your shirt over your head.

“Can’t sleep in a messy room.” He admits, although he tosses your shirt to the floor with a grin. “But I will happily leave your clothes on the floor allllllll night.” He promises, unhooking your bra with two fingers before dragging it down so he can wrap his lips around one of your nipples.

You gasp and arch your chest into his mouth, your hand quickly finding purchase in his hair. “Shit Max.” You whine when he bites down and you love it, you love how he seems so hungry for you.

Max growls against your skin, loving how you start to tug on his hair. His hands tug down at your leggings before he pulls away to push you down onto his bigger than needed bed. Grinning when you bounce slightly and he goes back to attacking your pants. “Fuck.”

You help him by kicking them off and his fingers are hooking into your panties, dragging them down your legs. “Fuck baby. I need you.” You beg, dripping wet for him and his hair is not gelled, falling into his face and your heart clenches at the grin on his face as he crawls up your body.

“You’ve got me.” He promises, stopping to nip, lick and kiss different places on your body. Stopping and staring at you with a serious expression on his face. “You’re beautiful.” He murmurs softly before leaning in to press his lips to yours.

You slide your hands down to caress his back as his tongue slides into your mouth. His cock is heavy against your thigh and you grab his shirt in your hands, wanting to see more of him. “Take this off.” You demand, tugging on his shirt.

He chuckles, pushing onto his knees to comply. “So pushy,” he teases, grinning as he tosses it away and starts to tug his sweats down over his ass. “I like it. Order me around baby, tell me to lick your pussy until you cream in my face.”

You giggle at the enthusiastic look on his face. “Want you to lick my pussy until I soak your face.” You demand, grabbing his face to drag him down between your thighs, maybe pulling on his hair a little too hard but his resounding groan tells you he likes it.

Max loves when a woman is demanding, taking what she wants because he also loves to do the same. A true switch when it comes to the bedroom. “Fuck, you have such a pretty pussy.” He groans when he sees your wet folds. “So tight too.” He tells you before he lunges forward to bury his tongue inside you.

Your cry echoes in his large bedroom and you moan his name, your hips immediately thrusting up into his mouth as he slides his tongue through your folds. “Holy shit, Max.” You throw your head back as he sucks on your clit.

He chuckles against your clit, sliding a hand between your thighs and he starts to rub your entrance to gather your slick before curling two fingers inside you. Loving how quickly you clench down on them as he licks at your nerves expertly.

His fingers and his tongue are magic. No wonder he has the reputation he has when it's so damn good. You whimper and lift your leg onto his shoulder so his fingers push deeper. "Holy - holy shit." You choke when he curls them just right and his breath washes over your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” Max coos, completely obsessed with the way you whimper his name. “Be a good girl and cum for me. Cum all over my fingers and face, pretty girl.” He keeps curling his fingers and sucks your clit back into his mouth as he watches you intently, wanting to witness the moment you cum.

"Oh shit. Shit. Just- fuck - just like that." You whine as he sucks your clit like those stupid caramels he unwraps between segments. You can't deny him as he curls his fingers just right and you cum, clamping down on his thick digits.

You’re louder than that Friday, of course you are. You are in a private bedroom where you won’t be discovered if you scream his name. Plus, this orgasm is completely centered around you, Max continues to pump his fingers and suck in your clit to work you through it. Greedy for your sounds and the way you soak his fingers.

When it becomes too much, you push him away, gasping his name, and you grab his shoulder, dragging him up your body. "I wanna-" You don't voice your desires as you shift to push him back on the bed, shifting to kneel between his legs. "God." You murmur as you wrap your fingers around his cock. 

"Baby. You don't-" His protest dies on his lips as you lean forward to wrap your lips around the head of his cock. “Fuuuuuuuuck.” Max hisses in pleasure as your mouth takes his cock. Twitching and groaning your name when he feels you swallow around him. “Never-never thought I’d see this.” He admits breathlessly. “But I love the view.”

Your eyes crinkle as you smile around his dick, taking him deeper, and you love the way his jaw drops. "You are gorgeous." He murmurs and you slide your hand along his chest, caressing his skin as you start to bob your head.

It’s quite possibly the best fucking blowjob he’s ever had. Not sure if it’s because you are so eager to blow him, or that it’s just you, but you have him breathless and gripping the duvet quickly. “Baby, baby, you are so good. You’re gonna make me cum and I can’t do that right now.” He whines after you swallow around him again.

You reluctantly pull off of his cock, moving fast to straddle his thighs and you shuffle closer, sitting up until you can grip his cock and notch him at your entrance. You look into those dark eyes and sink slowly down onto him.

“Shiiiiiiiiiit.” Max grabs your hips but he doesn’t try to control you, just hanging on while your walls surround him. “Can we do the show just like this?” He pants out, “you sitting on my cock? Fuck, baby.”

“We’d either get no viewers or a ton of viewers for daytime tv.” You giggle, caressing his chest and you lean in to kiss his neck. “You feel so good inside of me, Max.” You murmur, kissing his jaw as you lift your hips until you’re sinking back down onto him.

Max blows out a loud breath, sliding his hands up and down your back. “I’m trying not to blow my load here, sweet cheeks. Don’t mistake that. Fuck, you feel so amazing. Like a fucking glove.”

You moan, loving the way he twitches inside of you. “All yours. Yours baby.” You promise and lean in to kiss him softly before you start to rock your hips, taking him deep inside of you every time you sink down onto his cock. He’s so deep and you aren’t in a rush for this to be over.

The pace is slower than before and Max groans every time you rock your hips. “Fuck baby.” He whispers, turning his head to kiss along your neck. Loving how you are slowly unraveling him.

You rock back onto him, caressing his neck and sliding your fingers through his hair. “God, I love you.” You murmur, shifting to press your lips to his, your hands cupping his cheeks.

His breath catches, hearing you say it like that for the first time. “I love you too, baby.” He promises, lifting up to kiss you thoroughly. His hand slides up to your neck and he drags you closer, loving how your tits press against his chest and he slides his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss.

You savor the kiss, moaning into his mouth, and you whimper his name as he kisses along your jaw. You bounce on his cock a little faster, wanting him to cum for you. “Fuck, baby. I- I want you to fill me up.” You murmur, nudging your nose against his.

“Shiiiit.” Max hisses. “That is so fucking sexy.” He admits with a breathless laugh. Watching your tits bounce and he reaches back to slap your ass.

You groan as he helps you bounce harder on his cock. “Fuck baby. Yes. Yes! Just like that. Oh God. You’re hitting just right.” You ramble, lost in the sensations as he rocks you on his cock and the coarse hairs at the base of his cock rub against your clit.

Max chuckles at how desperate you sound, how greedily your cunt clenches around him. Groaning as he rocks you harder and plants his feet to thrust into you. “Want you to cum.” He grunts. “On my cock this time.”

You whimper, "gonna - oh God. Ma- Max. Oh fuck. Maxxxx." You squeal. clamping down on his cock and you cry out as he thrusts up at the right angle and sends you over the edge, making you shake against him as you orgasm.

Max chokes out your name, wrapping his arms around you and starting to thrust up into you wildly. Letting his own desires overtake the sedate pace and chase his own orgasm now that you’ve cum.

You let him thrust up into you, making you moan as he extends your climax. “Baby. I need - I want you to cum for me.” You beg, kissing his neck, and you end up biting his earlobe. “Cum for me, Max.”

“Ohhh shit.” You biting him throws him over the edge. Squeezing you tight, he rocks his hips up to bury himself inside you. Groaning as his spurts of cum paint your walls.

You caress his neck, running your finger through his hair as you kiss all over his face. His fingers dig into your flesh but you don’t care, loving how he feels surrounding you. “I love you, Phillips.” You murmur, enjoying how he feels surrounding you. “I’m sorry I ran away.” You murmur, knowing you aren’t running now.

“I love you too.” Max hums softly. “If you run this time, I’m coming after you. I don’t give a damn who knows it.” His arms loosen slightly and he looks into your eyes when you lean back. “Will you go to dinner with me? Not tonight, because we couldn’t get reservations anywhere, but I want to take you out properly.”

You nod, unable to say no to him and you lean in to kiss him again. “I’m not running away. I want the world to know about us. It’s - I’ve been thinking, this could make our career. The TV husband and wife that become husband and wife.” You tease and Max’s eyes widen. 

“Marriage? Slow your roll baby.” He says and you giggle, rolling your eyes. “I’m joking. I want to marry you. Shit, I’ve never said that to anyone. I want you baby. I’m in this for the long haul.” He promises and you nod, leaning in to kiss him. 

“Mrs Max Phillips has a ring to it.” You murmur and he chuckles, “who says I wouldn’t take your last name? I’m a modern man.” He winks at you and you snort, leaning in to nudge your nose against his. You don’t know why you’ve been running from your feelings and now that you are here with Max, you’ll never run again. He’s now your home.

****

“It’s that time of year again.” Max grins into the camera as the red light reappears. “Valentine’s Day. The day where men either panic as they figure out to impress their partners or prepare to take the next step.” He clears his throat as he looks over at you. His girlfriend of a year, even though the public was still guessing at how serious the relationship was. There had been plenty of photos of dinners out and cozily walking around town together. While you weren’t discreet, you both decided to be mum about the status of your relationship. Especially after a closed door meeting with the producers. Everyone at the station knew, and that was all that mattered. “Tell me, Valentine’s Day proposal, tacky or romantic?” He asks you. “I personally think romantic if done right, but what do you think?”

You hum, not picking up his reasoning for the question when it's on the teleprompter. "I think...if it's done right, it's romantic. If it's a 'shut up ring' then it's tacky." You explain, turning back to the prompter. "So today, we have a big surprise. Someone is going to be getting engaged on the show." You grin, still not suspicious as the producers told you about a guy who was going to surprise his girlfriend. "Look at Max." You read the teleprompter and frown, turning to see Max out of his chair. "What are you doing?"

“Baby, honey, sweet cheeks, I don’t think there’s anything tacky about the way that I feel about you.” Max tells you as he takes your hand and kneels down in front of you. “I couldn’t think of any place more romantic than the place I met you, the place I fell in love with your laugh, your heart, your brain and everything that makes up my partner at work.” He smiles at the shocked look on your face. “I wanted to propose today, since one year ago, we finally confessed how we felt and it’s been a magical year. So now I just have one little question.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring box. “Will you be my partner in life? Marry me, darling, be my wife please?”

Your eyes widen and you glance around at the crew who are grinning at you and Max. You inhale shakily, tears stinging in your eyes as the man you love kneels in front of you. "Baby. I - yes. A million times, yes!" You squeal and shift to kneel down in front of him, cupping his cheeks to kiss him without even caring about the ring, you're more excited to marry the man you love.

Grinning against your lips, Max knows that you’ve just made history, a morning show host proposing to his co-host on live tv. It will be the talk of the town. He doesn’t care about that or what the executives think. All he cares about is that Valentine’s Day is the day you became an official couple, the day you agreed to marry him, and next year - you’ll get married on Valentine’s Day. He will make sure that every Valentine’s Day you spend with him will be one to remember.

#pedro pascal #max phillips #max philips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips smut #max phillips imagine #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips fic #human!max phillips

[sageispunk]

Control (18+)

gif from pinterest (@javier-pena i think)

Kinktober Prompt: sex pollen, thigh riding, forced orgasm (day 4)

pairing: Max Phillips x f!reader

summary: Drinking with your boss goes differently than you'd planned.

“Mm baby, I bet I could get one more out of you, what d’ya think? Can you cum one more time for me, like a good girl?” You looked into his eyes, seeing his hunger for you, it was carnal, lecherous.

wordcount: 2.3k+

warnings: no Y/N, this is sort of dark, DUBCON, max has a thing for reader, boss/employee dynamics, drugging (w/blood), intoxication, dom/sub vibes, teasing, nipple play, grinding/dry humping, voice kink, praise kink, magic kinda, making out, overstimulation, small visual hallucinations, multiple orgasms (2), use of “good girl”, dirty talk

A/N: max is a little OOC also my vampire science is slightly based on true blood–if a human ingests vamp blood (so not sex pollen exactly), they sort of trip on it BUT there are less extreme visual hallucinations + it just makes you feel rllyyyy good and very h-word. he can also influence you if you make eye contact for a few seconds (which is just glamouring in TB lol)

“How’s it taste?”

Max watched as you took a couple sips of his fancy red wine (whose name you couldn't pronounce), eyes a bit widened in excitement. You let the taste linger in your mouth for a moment, before replying. “Not bad, it's a little strong, but smooth. Reds usually don't do it for me, but this, it's pretty good.”

He smiled at your candidness, subtly scooting a bit closer. The two of you sat on high stools in his kitchen, talking at the marble island. Max had invited you over early in the day, during your lunch break, stating that even though you'd been working there for a few months, he barely knew anything about you. Said it would be good to get to know each other, it would help ease you into the work culture.

“I’m glad you like it.. it's been fermenting awhile, probably longer than you’ve been alive!” He says, with a slightly obnoxious laugh, watching you giggle in response.

The both of you chat about random stuff, mostly about you– how long you’ve been in the city, where you came from, etc. Every time you want to ask him about himself, he sort of beats you to it, pulling bits and pieces of information out of you.

A few moments later, you start to feel woozy, more in your head and upper body. “Woah, that stuff was strong.” You’re giggling, reaching for the bottle that stood on the counter between you and Max, wanting to read it again.

“You feelin’ it?” He asks, eyes steadily trained on your face, his body turning to better face yours. A chuckle leaves your throat, “Yeah, it's…” You just shake your head and sit the bottle back down, at a loss for words to describe how your body was beginning to feel.

It was good, a sort of light feeling, as if every particle of your being was being lifted up by tiny little angels, washing away that heavy burden of being a person. No more stress, no more doubts, no more responsibilities, no more ego.

There was also a physical tingling slowly radiating from your spine to every other part of your body, your head, your tummy, your toes, fingertips..

You brought your hand up, eyes wide in amazement at the faint glowing you could see emanating from your nails. You eyes briefly left your hands, going up to meet Max’s, your mouth hung open as if to say do you see this? but nothing came out. He watched you, with a sort of amused, content look on his face, lips slightly upturned.

Your arm slowly reached out, hand stretching towards him, wanting him to see and feel what you were experiencing. When you touched, it felt like electricity– “Oh!” You gasped.

But the sharp feeling quickly turned into a soothing, warm sensation as Max fully took your hand in between both of his. He gently rubbed your hand, while you sat in complete awe. You met his eyes again, and this time you could see the darkness in them.

His orbs were almost black, gaze trained on you with such intensity that sober-you would've simply imploded. But right now– they were comforting, nearly tranquilizing.

“How are you feeling? Good?” His voice was deeper, more…sensual–it hit your ear in a different way than before. You wanted to hear more.

Nodding your head, you leaned your body in a bit more towards his, reaching your other hand up to his face. You were only slightly surprised to feel that jolt again, that static that seemed to sit on his skin. You stroked his cheek softly, soothing that electricity just like he did with you.

“Mmm..” Max groaned and his eyes fluttered shut, head tilting back slightly as your fingers graced his jaw. You watched as he reveled in your touch, leaning into your hand. Your fingers traveled along the outline of his face, going down until they were loosely grasping the side of his throat with your thumb stroking his cheek again.

Max’s eyes opened again, looking as though he was shocked that you could get him like this. “Come,” And then he was pulling you by your arms, so quickly that it didn’t feel real. For a split second, you stood there, in between his legs, with your faces only an inch apart, so close that there was equal static flowing between you two.

And then you were falling.

You’d been sitting for so long, you didn’t realize how numb your legs were. “Woah there, mama, let's get you up.” Max cooed, standing up to catch you and help get you upright. You weakly held onto him, less focused on your legs and more focused on how close you were to him, the woody scent of sage and cedarwood in his clothes, and the way he was holding onto your body, his own tall figure serving as a protector for you. “C’mon, baby, I’ve got ya.”

The lights were low, the constant whirring of the ceiling fan lulled you in the background, and you were in heaven. Max had led you into his living room, sitting the both of you down on the soft sofa with you atop his lap. He firmly grasped your chin with his right hand, bringing your eyes back up to his. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

His voice had a tone of dominance in it, and his eyes had you falling into that peaceful trance again, unable to focus on anything other than him and the wonderful sensations happening within your body. “Feelin’ good,” You meekly whispered, voice a bit hoarse from not having spoken in a minute.

“Mhm?” He looked pleased with your answer, leaning back into the sofa as you remained straddling his lap. His hand dropped from your face, both coming to rest on your hips. His eyes wandered, first to your lips, then your neck, down to the curves outlined in your short black slip dress, especially your breasts.

Max lifted his hands up to each of your breasts, gently holding each of them in his palms while you looked down at him, nothing but calm in your eyes. Then his thumbs lightly flickered across your nipples, drawing a gasp out of you. His eyes lit up at both the sound you made, and the way you jumped in his lap, subtly grinding into his hardening cock.

“Do you always wear such revealing clothing when at your boss’ house?

Your eyes widened at the question, head shaking in response, feeling yourself become needier the longer his hands were on you.

“Hm?” He stopped thumbing at your nipples, eyebrows raised with a stern look on his face.

You got the hint. “No, no I don’t..”

“It's just for me?” The touching resumed, now turning into soft groping.

You nodded your head, “Only for you.”

He squeezed and massaged your breasts, causing you to let out breathy moans above him. A cocky smile graced his face as he began to pleasure you. Max was now fully hard and slightly grinding his bulge up into your soaked panties, hissing at the feeling of your warmth, even through his pants.

“Fuck, baby…you’re so good, y’know that?”

A pang of electricity shot through your stomach, making you feel even weaker. His hands, his eyes, his cock hard under you, and his fucking voice… everything had you so far under.

“Jus’ wanna be good for you,” Your voice was so soft and hushed, but you knew he’d heard you. “Yeah?” He asked, and you nodded in response, your eyes low and focused on his.

He sat up to come in closer to you, his firm hands coming up to your face, pulling you in until you were an inch apart. You stared into his eyes, the depth of darkness pulling you in, enticing you. All you wanted was him. To become one with him.

You kissed him, a bit too fast, with a sort of hunger, and then you quickly pulled back and leaned your forehead onto his. He panted, a feral, frenzied look written all across his face, letting you know that he needed this as much as you did.

Your faces pulled back together and his hands shot down to your ass, pulling the bottom of your dress up above your hips. Feeling that you only had a thong on underneath, Max hissed in pleasure. His hands grasped each of your cheeks, squeezing and groping, more obviously grinding his bulge up into your heat. “Y’feel that baby? Feel how much I want you? How much I need you?”

“Yes,” You let out a breathy moan, your head swimming in clouds. “It feels so good.”

“Show me. Show me how good you feel.”

Your hips began to move, rocking back and forth on his lap, your clothed clit rubbing against the hem in his jeans. Every time it hit that one spot you let out a moan, each one getting louder than the one before.

His right hand came down on your ass hard and fast, feeling like a lightning bolt shooting through your backside. You yelped, now humping a bit more frantic. You could tell you were nearing your peak already, though it felt much different than when you normally do, alone and in the darkness of your bedroom.

It was more intense. Your body trembled and your eyes kept fluttering shut as the waves of pleasure amplified. “M-Max, I-”

“I know, baby, let it out,” His voice grunted out, hands tightly guiding you back and forth on his lap, getting you closer and closer, until all you could feel was static electricity, all over your skin, on Max, inside of you…

He brought a hand back up to your jaw, holding your face up to meet your gaze. “Cum for me.” His eyes pierced yours and you felt yourself let go, hips stilling for a moment then twitching uncontrollably. You cried out as your eyes rolled back into your head, immediately feeling overstimulated all over your body.

“Good girl,” He cooed in your ear, his body stilling under yours. “You did so good, baby.” Your body continued to twitch slightly, still coming down from the most intense high you’ve ever felt. “So beautiful, all soft and sweet like this. I’d pay–no I’d kill to see you break down like that again.”

You whimpered at his words, his voice still having a strong effect on you and your body. “Mm baby, I bet I could get one more out of you, what d’ya think? Can you cum one more time for me, like a good girl?” You looked into his eyes, seeing his hunger for you, it was carnal, lecherous.

You wanted to say not yet, you needed time to recover, to fully come down. But his eyes, they bore into you, taking over every thought of denial your mind came up with. Ignoring your oversensitive clit and tired hips, your fuzzy head nodded.

Max patted his right thigh, “Up here,” You straddled his thigh and a shiver shook through your body at the feeling of the strong mass under your panties. “Look at me. I want you to keep your eyes on me, okay?”

You nodded, once again. He grasped your hip with both hands and began to pull you back and forth on his thigh. He kept it slow at first, only beginning to slowly speed up once he noticed your sensitivity wasn't as high anymore. “Touch yourself,” He ordered.

Your hands moved immediately, both gravitating towards your breasts again, this time you slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders. You gasped at the feeling of your own fingers pulling at your hardened nipples. You twisted and pulled until they were too sensitive to the touch, and resorted to simply groping your own tits.

“So fuckin’ beautiful…” His praise hit your ears and sent shocks down your body, right to your slick pussy. You were dripping, thong completely soaked and ruined, as were Max’s pants. Your hips found their rhythm again, wanting to chase that peak he had you nearing again.

Back and forth, and back and forth. You even added in a small circling to create a different feeling than before. The closer you got, the more your sensitivity intensified. It was twice as strong as your previous high, and you didn’t know it you would be able to take it. Max could tell, he could see the way you were beginning to doubt yourself, a nervous look written on your face. “Don’t think about it baby, just let it happen. You’ve got it, doing so fuckin’ good.”

“Max, I don’t know–” Your gaze began to fall from his, but he grabbed your face, not as gently as before. “No, you’re gonna cum for me. Right now, you’re gonna cum like the good girl that you are, and you’re gonna fuckin’ love it.”

“Ohhh, my…” Your voice trailed off into a high-pitched wail, your second orgasm hitting you, causing your body to completely lock up for a few quick moments. You watched Max’s face as you came, he had a proud look on his face, and you felt it within yourself as well.

You slumped in his lap, unable to hold yourself up at all. He rubbed your back and tucked your face into his neck. “You did so well for me baby, m’proud of you.” Strong butterflies pounded in your chest, his praiseful words aiding your harsh come-down.

The longer you laid there, the more you realized how exhausted you were. Your head felt heavy again, eyes low, nearly closed with drowsiness. Your body was tired and sore, in several different places. You didn’t focus on the pain though. Max’s hands on your back and head, rubbing in rhythmic circles, had you falling deep into a peaceful slumber.

A/N: that was so hot to write omg. it took longer than expected but i'm still proud i got it out:) max was a little difficult bc i don't know his character super well (i've only seen the film once) but it was still fun playing around with it. please like and reblog (and leave plenty of comments) if u enjoy reading this. feel free to send requests/suggestions!! <333 (follow @sageispunklibrary + turn on notifs for updates)

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

#kinktober #fawktober2023 #max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips smut #bloodsucking bastards #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #smut #dark fic #supernatural #my writing #max phillips x you #max phillips fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #max phillips fic #max phillips x f!reader #sageispunk

[morallyinept]

Polynesian Kiss - A Max Phillips One Shot

Summary: It’s that time of the month, and your period cramps force you to call in sick at work, but Max is only too keen to help you feel better. Isn’t he such a nice boss? And vampires get a bad rep, tsk, tsk…

Pairing: Max Phillips x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 4.8k-ish

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.” 

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.  

Warnings/Triggers: - Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/blood/menstration kink/sex whilst menstrating/oral F receiving/fingering/anal play/general vampire noms/Max is just a bloodsucking bastard and we love him for it.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.  

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: After rewatching Bloodsucking Bastards again, this abomination came to me. I make no apologies for it. If you’re currently suffering through your monthly woes, I feel you. Hold strong, besties. 

MAIN MASTERLIST | MAX PHILLPS MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

“Hey, hotshot. How’s my best PA?” 

“Max. I’m your only PA. You ate the others.” You titter with a wry smirk to him with the phone pressed to your ear.

“Guilty, as charged.” He chuckles down the phone, and it’s like you can see that razor sharp gleam as it spreads across his lips reflecting at you here, like a dazzling mirror shard that blinds as deep as it lacerates.

“Are you in the office?” You query knowing he’s a stickler for early starts, seeing as he doesn't sleep himself, but there’s a foreign commotion you can hear around him in the background. 

“En route. Getting my caffeine fix. You want me to pick you up a ‘chino? Extra cream, right? My treat.” He grins down the line and it leaves prickles flooding over your skin. “Ooh, they’ve got those cinnamon swirls I like. Scandalous.” He snorts deliciously around a moan and you feel it steam between your thighs.

“No. Uh, thank you. Listen. I’m not coming in today,” you begin intrepidly.

“Oh no. We’ve got the final audit to prepare for, was counting on ya slugger… Six shots please, and a cinnamon swirl. No, make it two swirls. Fuck it. I’ll go to Pilates this week.” He merges fluidly in between conversations with you and the drive-thru window.

“Although, I already know we’ve smashed it.” Max snickers with a husky breath to you. "The stats are off the fucking wall!" He sounds as excited as a little boy who has just discovered his penis for the first time.

“So modest.” You smirk.

“Hey, my management is style is highly effective. You’ve seen the results.”  

You smile faintly. “Mmhm. Nothing like the constant threat of imminent death to drive success...”

“You better believe it, honey. No, you have a nice day, champ.” You hear the sound of his electric window winding up and can imagine those hands of his bound tightly in his black leather gloves, so the sun doesn't penetrate his skin, as he reaches out through the dark window just rolled down enough for him to take his coffee order.

Driving with Max is like driving in the pitch dark constantly. Blacked out windows and the air conditioning blasting ferociously in the summer heat making his Mustang feel like an unrelenting ice box.

“What’s up, beautiful? You’re sounding verklempt.” His tone is serious now, concerned even over the masculine power roar of his engine, and it makes you melt.

“I’m uh… Not feeling too great.” You sigh, wrapping your arm around your stomach as another cramp rips through your womb. 

“Oh.” You can almost hear him pout. “You got the flu or something?”

“No.” You state toneless.

“Has it happened?” His voice is lower and it sends shivers down your spine alerting your nipples to wake up into stiff, aching peaks in subjugation. 

You nod even though he can’t see. “Yeah.” You whisper.

“You’re early this month.” his voice is but a low din, a growl even.

“I am?” You question, perplexed.

“Yeah. By two days.” You hear him suck in a deep breath and then click his lips. He keeps track of it better than you do. “Okay then. Get prepared. Rest. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

"Max, your meetings-" You don't have time to finish your limp protest.

"I said, I'll be there as soon as I can." He snarls darkly before making a kissy noise down the line. 

You hear the phone hang up before you can argue again at how his diary today is simply too full, but he’s gone and you put yours down on the table in front of you. 

You sit back, folding your arms tightly over your abdomen and sigh out waiting, your heels thudding against the floor occasionally; some automatic anxious reaction that originated from somewhere in your childhood no doubt.

A bit like biting your nails down to the skin until they're sore and tight, or shaking your knee incessantly without realising until someone yells at you to stop fucking doing that!

The first few times it had happened, it had been unpredictable - he was unpredictable.

A volatile mess that scared you the first time he was alone with you in his office; his voice leaving gnarly claws to protrude through the walls to come and get you.

Max Phillips was unlike any other man - any other boss - you’d ever known, although he wasn’t a man, not really.

There was a haunting aura about him, a distinct eeriness that hung off of his Peter Pan-esque shadow that laughed on its own, and you scoffed at first when he’d suggested it. Like it was a joke of some kind; a disgusting, unhygienic joke.

Max didn't laugh, however. He was deadly serious. Emphasis on the deadly.

But then he’d tapped into your curiosity with those wandering brown eyes and hypnotic smirks around pearly canines that had a knack of making you feel like you could walk on cotton candy clouds.

He had mutated any trepidation you'd had until you’d agreed, nodding like a puppet, and you were certain at that point there probably wasn’t anything you wouldn’t agree to where Max was concerned.

He was fucking beautiful and yet under it all, somewhat inherently terrifying.

And it turned you on so much. God, it was fucking unrelenting the way the tops of your thights now constantly stuck themselves together with your slick.

You had sensed it about him, unsure exactly what it was - what he was entirely. That dominant, toxic swagger about him, amped up on fuckboi steroids, that would cause carnage in the office, and you could never put your finger on it. The unusually high turnover of staff, the lingering stench of copper on his breath. The fact the blinds were always drawn and the air conditioning was always on, to the point you could see your breath.

You never spoke about it, none of you. Until the time he tore up the office and replaced all the bone idle employees with the walking undead and then it made perfect sense; he was a vampire, d’uh.

He said you could trust him though. He said he wouldn’t turn you, unless you wanted it - you didn't - and you believed him. He had been true to his word; he hadn’t hurt you at all - not without your express consent for him to take a little nibble on your jugular now and again anyway.

He liked it when you repelled him, made him work harder for it. Fuck, it made him so hard in his tight suit pants when you did that. Strutting around the office in your short skirts and barely-there blouses just to make him see red and chew on his tie.

He’d promoted you, although it was more of a candid expectation seeing as he’d picked his teeth clean with your predecessors.

You did in fact trust him enough to invite him into your home and let him roam unbidden and free inside it and do all those things to you that made your toes curl in the deliciously right way.

Fuck buddies with your boss. Or was it blood brothers now?

You couldn’t help but become enthralled by his spooky enthrall somewhat more and more, and was now resorting to adding this monthly rendezvous to your clandestine proclivities with him as though you had completely lost your sanity, and perhaps you had.

Max was always sharp and concise, straight to the point and no funny nonsense, ma’am. Unless you count him fucking you, bent over his desk, whilst you attempt to type up the meeting minutes as anything but serious.

He could talk his way into anything, including your cunt on a regular turn.

Somewhere inside, it made you shiver. Like something wicked and disgusting was unfurling and leaving those sharp nails to rake down your spine that make you feel sick and giddy in wanton anticipation.

It had to be something that was shameful, immoral; taboo, and yet you willingly engaged in it. You wanted it, craved it as much as he did it seemed.

You just craved him.

You take in a deep breath, the cramping that was present since it had begun in the early hours is deep and twisting in your gut, seeming to increase in its ferocity - it’s like it knows and is getting itself into an excitable tizz. 

You get up and make your way upstairs ready to prepare, clutching your stomach as you go. 

You run the shower in the bathroom; he likes you to be clean. Or as clean as you can be at this time of the month anyway before he dirties you up again.

Day one is always the worst - the heaviest and most painful - but the absolute best time for Max; the most important day where the blood is fresh and plentiful - when you are incredibly ripe for the plucking sweetheart, as he once put it.  

You climb into the shower, washing your hair and body with fruity scents that would make his mouth salivate, and the hot, inviting water starts to soothe the incessant pang pulling inside your uterus. 

There was no pain killer; Max had said it made the blood taste weird so you refrained from taking any. It would barely scrape the sides anyhow. No, the only thing that could tame it completely was him. 

But at this point, after the hot water subsides, the cramps increase in their veracity. A period is the equivalent of a heavy kick in the balls to a man.

No, make that several hundred kicks in the balls, then stamping on them relentlessly.

Or, imagine someone has taken a sledge hammer to them instead; just whacking the shit out of them tirelessly.

Yeah? Well, period pain is fucking worse, buddy.

Feels like someone is twisting your insides without a let up, and then pulling them apart slowly just to spite you. Some women would tell you that child labour hurts less than menstrual cramps.

They would be fucking right about that. 

I think my vagina hates me. I’m not sure what I did to piss her off…

You groan out as another cramp thunders through your core. You look down to see red spots making marble spirals around your feet in the suds, like inkblots being diluted in the water as they swill down the drain. It’s kinda pretty in an abstract way, as you’re mesmerised by those budding tulips for a while. 

You clench internally at what is to come and once out of the shower, dried and dressed in a robe and a clean pair of white cotton panties - without a tampon or towel as instructed by Max, thems the rules, baby - you brush through your hair after blow drying it and wait for him to come to you.

The waiting is the worst part.

You’re sure he’ll be there in the office frantically rearranging his diary, cancelling meetings for you as he gulps desperately at his strong coffee. It curbs the cravings, he'd said after you’d queried his collection of empty six-shot espresso cups collecting in a temple on his desk with a raised eyebrow.  

You gear yourself up to the point your pussy is already sopping and you're desperate to appease yourself with some release. But you never can bring yourself to, knowing that if you save it - save it all for him to have - it would be so much more sweeter. 

Thinking of Max makes your clit swell and throb, that tingle that teeters on the edge of pain and makes it uncomfortable and heavy inside your panties, but the moment he would touch you, it would be worth all the edging and gnawing pressure.

You can feel yourself getting wetter down there and knowing it isn’t just all the blood makes you smile sinisterly. 

When he finally arrives, he lets himself in. 

You could hear him pull up in his red Mustang and the creaky squeak of the door slamming shut after that deep roar of his engine was reduced to a dying purr.

Those quick scraping footsteps of his polished leather shoes against the gravel as he plays hopscotch with the shadows out of the direct sun.

The sound of him using the key you gave him to let himself into your apartment. Inviting the monster in to come and play with your guts and offals. 

You had to invite him in the first time. Laughing as he physically couldn't cross the threshold of your door without verbal invitation. Like there was an actual barrier there. Now, he comes and goes as he pleases.

Sometimes, in the dead of the night, you would wake to find him pawing at you; fangs and cock bared. He takes from you whenever he wants, and you always let him.

Goose bumps flood all over your body and tingles run tightly across your scalp in suspense. 

As he rounds the stairs up to your door, Max can smell you already and his gut rumbles as does his loins inside his tight, navy suit pants.

Once in your apartment, he pushes the door open to your bedroom to see you lying on the duvet with a towel spread underneath you, and you're wrapped up in a fluffy robe looking a little worn and tired despite flashing your effervescent smile for him. 

“Hey,” you beam at him and he shuts the bedroom door behind him with a gentle click.

He’s holding a small posy of flowers and it makes you smile that the vampire is a little bit of a sentimental doof under it all. 

He stands there watching you and keeps his distance for a few moments as you shuffle upright; a hot water bottle is revealed to him that's tucked inside the folds of your gown resting against your stomach to quell the pain.

“Are those for me?” You ask, as he puts them in the vase on your dresser, discarding the old ones that are slightly withered now into the trash can.

They are pink and bulbous and always a token of affection in thanks for what he is about to do to you. But you don’t see it as a quid pro quo at all. You want this just as much as he does. The peonies are just a pretty bonus.

Max nods at you and smiles thinly through his pink lips. 

“How you feeling, baby?” He queries. He loosens his tie and then slides it out from under the shirt collar completely and tucks it into his back pants pocket. 

“I’ve been better.” You say. 

“I can smell it.” He sighs, smirking. "Pungent. Mmm."

You nod slowly. “I know.”

“Show me.” He instructs, removing his suit jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves to reveal tan arms. An unusual trait for a vampire, you think. 

You remove the hot water bottle and plonk it on the floor by the bed and untie your gown, slipping it off over your shoulders. Puffy nipples that were embedded asleep inside your warm areolas greet him and he stares like a letch at them, licking his lips. 

You rest back on your elbows with your knees drawn up and he zones in on the damp, bloody patch that has seeped through your cotton panties peeking back at him between your ankles.

Incredibly exposed before him - the most intimate you could ever be with him - you're spread vulnerable and showing him exactly what he's after as you part your legs. The red patch is soaking into your panties like a flower slowly blooming and opening up just for him.

You pull your panties up by the waist band, using them as reins as you rub them against yourself, smearing it in further. He watches with a thick smirk as you moan and pant at the feel of them grazing against your engorged clit.

It feels fucking delicious.

“Take them off,” Max directs with a hiss between his teeth, lying his jacket down on the chair by your dresser after folding it neatly. 

You shimmy them down slowly and hold them out to him. His long, thick fingers snatch them from your hands and immediately they go to his nose.

He sniffs in deep and his eyes roll into the back of his head leaving just the whites, before he puts the crotch of them inside his mouth and sucks deeply against the damp, stained cotton. 

A desperate catch in the back of his throat he can all but choke on, sounds out of him like a wolf howling at the moon as he growls out in satisfaction.

The taste of your syrupy fluids and blood dancing over his tongue in a delightfully salty-chrome tango, is firing his synapses and setting his whole body alight.

He’s barely holding it together as you notice him visibly shaking.

“O-open your legs,” he growls menacingly through his mouthful, peering down at you and fighting to stave off his other face from making an appearance - his true face that he knows unnerves you. You do as he instructs, desperate to please your marauding boss.

You watch as he shudders more and sucks greedily at your panties, arousing you further as he stares at your glistening, ruby soaked cunt with eyes turning more jet by the second.

Max clocks the sanguine vision of you spread before him on the bed, making his mouth salivate and his fangs ache to protrude fully. He blinks away the red mist descending upon him and swallows through a now tightly constricted throat.

He puts the panties inside his jacket pocket for safekeeping and kneels on the end of the bed, crawling up it like an ominous spider creeping towards you.

"All for me," he purrs with a devilish grin.  

He runs his lips against your knee and up your thigh as he descends upon you. His teeth catch on your nipple making you gasp before his tongue soothes it with a wet pop out of his mouth.

He takes your wrists and pulls you down towards him, positioning you just right so you are lying fully supine now; the towel is still spread out underneath you, not that you’ll need it.

He’ll make sure to get every last drop of you.

“Come here, you.” He growls and cold mist is pouring out of his mouth onto your body. "Going to eat you the fuck up."

Max can smell it; see the glistening claret shine around your pussy lips sparkling at him, and that plumpy clit growing and swelling out of the hood of your skin desperate for a good lick.

Droplets of crimson fluid bead at your entrance and a couple had rolled down your skin towards your ass leaving a delicious track for him to devour.

It’s darker in colour around your sodden hole and the iron rich smell is driving him crazy, his jaw twitching and cracking. “There’s so much,” he says with keen appraisal. “Does it hurt?” 

Max runs his hand up your leg and rests it on your abdomen; his palm splayed across it like a giant starfish swamping your navel, and feeling the coolness emanate from it as it's absorbed into your skin makes you whine with need. 

His healing hand soothing you as he presses onto you a little with his weight and it's those small gestures like this from him that make it all better to endure through the pain somehow.

That make you believe you could mean something more to him than just being a walking, talking bloodbag.

You nod and bite your lip as his fingertips feel like they throb and burn on your skin’s surface despite their cold. 

“I’ll make it all better, baby.” Max assures. And you know he will - he always does. 

His dark, now almost fully black eyes, flick down to your sopping slit as he shifts, and he cranes his head forward a little, licking up the length of your seam slowly with a flat, pressed tongue.

The taste of you floods his taste buds and senses immediately like he’s just shot up.

You throw your head back taking in a deep, heavy hit of oxygen. The feel of his cool breath against you and the slither of his serpent tongue leave electric sparks flooding through your veins. 

"Mmm, Max..." You shiver and grin.

His hand is still on your stomach, thumb stoking in little circles below your belly button; his other reaching towards your centre where his long fingers are sliding and probing against the edges of your sodden slit.

Max runs his index finger along the fleshy ribbons of your folds that are dyed a deep, entrancing scarlet. He would go to push it inside your tasty well and then pull away, teasing you.

“Mmm,” you moan, your body squirming and flinching under him.

“Easy, sweetheart.” Max simmers, smirking.

He knows what he's doing when he winds your body up like this. With that darned smile he can get away with anything and you both fucking know it as it slithers across his face like a snake about to attack its prey ferociously. 

“Please,” you whine. "Don't tease me, not today."

“You’re so fucking cute when you’re needy.” He soothes and plants a little kiss just above your clit making you groan further in frustration. He pouts and makes his voice a little squeaky. "You like that, baby? Hmm? Like it when I tease your little, needy pussy like this?"

"Max, please!" You growl this time. "Just fucking eat me."

He snickers and pats onto your pussy before rubbing his fingers all in it, knocking against your hard clit through the squelches, and running the pads all over those fleshy, swollen lips. Finger painting inside the rich red that coats them making them shiny like latex, before putting them inside his gluttonous mouth.

Max groans out as he sucks and licks each of them clean, savouring the metallic taste and dipping in again and again before he presses his lips to your sex finally to feast. 

"Oh shit!" You simper.

You feel his tongue dart in and out in quick succession and the flesh on your legs dissolve. He removes his hand from your stomach and spreads your lips with his thumbs, opening you up for him and running his tongue in your wet slick, flicking back and forth across the hard nub of your spongy clit. 

“Fuck,” you whine seeing stars and feeling the heat simmering in your lower abdomen start to boil.

He sucks and gnaws on it; slurping loudly around it and pulling it between his pert lips before letting it go, sending your body erratic and writhing under his expert touch. 

“Max...” You groan out utterly beside yourself.

“Say my name, baby. Let me hear you.” Max coerces with a mirthy chuckle and suckles on it again, pinching his teeth around it and watching you lose your shit every time. 

“Oh fuck, Max!” You wail as your back arches and your pussy spasms. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Tastes so good,” he confirms. "Want to devour you," he grunts darkly at you. The skin on his face darken a little, his muscles and features changing shape; shadows becoming more prominent.

"Eat me all up?" You squeak, your fingers gripping tight around the duvet.

"Until there's nothing left of you." His voice changes; it's deeper, more throatier and you know the vampire within is awake and stirring now. "Gonna rip this cunt open!"

Your right thigh judders uncontrollably as he polishes that pearl with his tongue; flicking back and forth with acute speed and bringing your first come session of the day so easily.

Growling and grunting loudly as he feasts on you with unhurried abandon. His grip on your skin is harder and you can see the strain whitening his knuckles as he fights to hold back from fully vamping out.

"Oh fuck!" You keen, shaking and tensing.

He watches, his dark eyes flicking up as his mouth stays firmly clamped to your slit, as your breasts jiggle and your nipples are as hard as diamonds.

Your whole body jolts and jerks hard before you flatline under him when you can take no more. 

You’re stunned, smashed around the head with gold stars, and panting as your focus shifts back to his creeping shadow between your legs after being blind and boneless.

Your face is all red; nipples swollen as you come wildly in his plundering mouth.

You watch him with blown out pupils mouthing all over your pussy; clit pulsing under his thrashing tongue and ready for more as you feel it start to tighten and cinch again.

"Mm-maax!" You groan. It's so senitive, so plump and swollen. So... delicious.

Smirking, Max curls his middle two fingers into your soaked, scarlet entrance and laps up his reward; your blood, your come, smearing around his lips messily, like trying to apply lipstick on a rollercoaster.

He fucking loves it.

"You wanna come again?" He taunts darkly through a raspy smirk.

He hums out in satisfaction as he drinks more from you greedily, sticking his tongue in further and further to get more from that sodden inkpot that feels like it’s gushing constantly for him now.

He pushes your legs up by the backs of your thighs, opening you up and licking down your gooch towards that puckered urchin of your ass hole, where a lusty mix of his saliva, the blood and your pussy slick had dripped down it creating a wonderful cocktail that he would get drunk on happily, all day. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m having a reeeally good time.” He slurps menacingly. “So glad I cancelled that meeting with the Bordstein Group. Mmm, fuck.”

Your neck cricks up at him. "Wait. You cancelled it? They were hard bastards to pin down..." You whine as he laps against your ass hole and pushes the tip through your rim. "Oh, that's so good, Max. Oh Jesus..."

"You can re-arrange it. It's cool." He shrugs, his mouth full of you.

"You make it sound easy. Pete is a - oh fuck, yeessss - a-a busy man."

"Look, if he wants a collaboration, he'll make time." Max snorts. "You can sweet talk him, baby. Now shut up and give me another one." He smooshes you further into his mouth with a quick yank of your hips upward.

You yelp and chortle waspily as he dives back in. He runs his tongue around the sticky rim of your ass and slathers around it before sliding his index finger in as he works his mouth back towards your bloodied snatch, clamping around it once more as he drinks you down. 

He finger fucks your tight hole as he eats out your trembling cunt, and he can feel you clench around his finger as he invades your butt deeper. 

“Relax,” Max soothes you, his teeth stained pink and clamps right back onto that messy muff.

He slips in another wet finger and fills up your ass to the knuckles, sucking on your clit again.

“Oh fuck!” You flop down onto the pillow, getting a neck ache from craning to look at him and just succumb to the blooming feeling inside your ass, completely distracting you now from the cramps altogether. A wonderful placebo to occupy you as Max fucks you up sideways with that dangerous hot mouth of his. 

He smears his tongue around, mopping you up and getting as much of you as he can; sucking you dry and clean before he would dart into your pussy hole and tease out more that you had to offer. 

All the while he keeps his fingers inside your ass, curling and pumping as he watches your thighs tremble and pulsate around the sides of his head.

He marvels at how your body reacts to him without him having to use his enthrall; you submit to him wholly and he loves it.

With a gooey, slick smile, Max laps at your pussy hungrily again and again like a rabid dog as you start to come apart at the seams once more. 

“Oh God!” You call out, gripping hold of the duvet and pulling at it tightly as your body contorts and bucks against his face. You can feel another orgasm building and twisting your spine out of shape.

“God isn’t going to help you, sweetheart,” Max confirms before he chews on your clit once more and lets you explode again. "The Devil on the other hand..."

“Oh, I can’t, I can’t-” You’re quaking now, the pleasure doing an absolute number on you and he keeps his tongue on your sensitive clit. You can see flashes behind your eyelids; feel your body contort and pulse. “Maa-hax!”

“You can,” he encourages as he flicks across your nub hard with a fast, busy tongue. “Come in my mouth, baby. Give it all to me.”

And you do.

"AaaahhhohGodpleasepleaseMax!”

You arch your back, trying to get away from his mouth, the wonderful feeling becoming too much; you’re drowning, unable to breathe and so fucking dizzy, but he presses down on your stomach again holding you in place so you can’t scarper away.

"Oh fuuucck!"

He forces you to confront it, to accept it and drown in that tidal wave as it crashes over your head and pulls you under. Your ears are ringing and your toes are breaking.

“Fuck me, Max...” You plead, gasping and burning at him as you resurface. “I want you to fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you hard?” He replies, teasing you.

“Please, just cover your cock in me.” You gasp as he draws up and unzips his pants.

He pulls himself out, thick and hard and leaking pre-cum as he pumps a few times before lining himself up against you. He wastes no time in giving you what you crave. 

You grip onto him, his shirt twisting in your vice-like grip as he sinks his cock inside you and begins thrusting, hard, just like you want it.

He feels you squeezing around him almost immediately as he rips through you, sending you erratic and spiralling and coming so forcefully around his dick quickly, that your body goes rigid and shakes as though possessed.

“Yeah, like that!” He coos at you, growling. He bears his teeth, grunting as he power fucks into you. "There you go, baby. Love it when I destroy this pretty cunt, don't you?"

“Maa-hax, fu-uu-ck!” You cry out; your voice being battered out of your throat, releasing uncontrollably and panting wildly.

It’s so wet between your legs that every thrust squelches obscenely.

“What huh, you want me to stop? I don’t think you want that.” He growls. Once more his face shifts, his fangs are out fully now.

You shake your head, gasping hard through a dry throat. You grip onto him as his face lwers closer to yours, the vampire breaking through.

You whimper and squeak through your pants.

“You want me to stop?” Max prompts again as he eases his grip, slows his pace with smooth, deep strokes; another tempo just as easily fucking you up again.

You can feel him so deeply inside you as he drives his hips forward; his body crushing yours like a hydraulic press into the mattress.

You can see he's fighting to stay fully in control as his human face reappears from under the dark lines and brow ridges.

“No, don’t stop,” you choke as your body fizzes like fireworks. “Please… More.” You whine, losing your breath as he fucks it right out of your lungs until you can no longer form coherent words around your tongue and you’re left babbling.

“That’s right; you don’t want it to stop, do you? Such a fucking slut for my cock. Letting me fuck you whilst you're bleeding all over it." Max croons into your neck and you can feel his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin there. "So fucking nasty, baby."

Fisting through his hair, you grip him tight as his hips snap into yours with vigour. “Not even breaking out into a sweat.” Max taunts inside your ear. “I can keep this up all day. In fact, I think I just might.” 

“Oh God, fuck.” You mewl.

"Want to drink you again. Let me?" Max presses his tongue over that juicy vein in your neck.

"Yeah," you pant as he gathers your hair away from the side of your neck. "Not too much-"

"I know," he croons. "Just a drop or two. You can take it."

Sharp stings are felt on your throat as he tastes you there too, puncturing the skin and swallowing you down.

It’s a heady feeling as he drinks; the niggly pain soon dissipating and making you see bokeh stars behind your eyelids.

The pull is sumptuous, dreamy. Comforting as your eyes flutter shut and you sink into the serene peace his immortal kiss offers.

“Fucking delicious,” he smirks as he runs his mouth up the side of your cheek; his hot, blood stained breath left to condensate inside your ear canal.

Growling and rabid, Max pulls out and slides down your body and licks up your oozy slit again, tasting you and smearing the bloody and sticky pulp across his lips.

"You’re such a good little PA for me. You take it so well every time.” He praises, pushing his fingers into your pussy once more and rooting around inside of you. "Going to give you more, baby. I know you've got more for me. And I'm nowhere near full yet."

He strokes your cushiony insides that are sodden and plump and allow him to slide in and out with ease. You still feel tight and bound from your orgasms, but he's able to bring about another one that leaves you caterwauling for him again.

He’s the conductor and you his orchestra, making sweet music to his ears whilst he faps and eats you out and then some for hours, until the day is bleached away into the encroaching twilight outside.

His stamina destroys you, bruises your bones as he fucks you over and over until you think you’ll never be able to walk again. 

And when he eventually comes, with a deep throaty howl that seems to vibrate through the whole building and cracks your neighbour's window panes, spilling himself wholly inside of you, he sucks it all out with the blood and swallows it down, remaining rock hard until he does it all over again. And again. 

And a-fucking-gain. 

“Hmm... love this pussy,” Max confirms, suckling gently at your over-sensitive bud and you’re beside yourself with the intense rapture of it all. 

Boneless mush. A drooling mess. Crying and wailing for more, pumped full of sequinned delirium.

By the time he’s finished feasting on you, you’re utterly exhausted and barely able to keep your eyes open. 

Max spends time cleaning you up. Licking around your inner thighs and filling up on all the spots he might’ve missed.

Fawning, delicate. The vampire is fully satiated for now.

He walks over to your dresser, running his thumb around his lips to get the crust of the dried blood over them, and his once crisp, white shirt is now a pink stained mess, like an artist who has gone berserk with his paint pots.

He pulls out a pair of clean underwear and slides them up your legs and taps your ass gently, rousing your sleepy focus back to him. 

"B-12," he finger shoots at you and you nod over to the supplements on your dresser. He brings them, and a band-aid that he sticks over the bite marks on your neck, and gives it a gentle press in place.

"There, all better." He smirks darkly.

He then leans forward and kisses you on the lips. Max pushes those plumpy, blood stained lips of his onto your own and kisses you deeply, slowly.

He slides his tongue into your mouth and massages it delicately. You can taste the metallic remnants of yourself on him, taste your salty-sweet cunt all around his gums. 

“See why I can’t get enough of your taste, hmm?” He murmurs around your lips as you sample yourself on him with mounting fervour.

He’s right, you do taste good.

Max groans into your mouth as you clutch at the back of his head hungrily and wanting more, despite your battered body yelling at you to rest. He falters again, sliding forward on the bed and gripping you tightly into his body.

You can feel the bulge of his still solid cock poking you in the gut, and you reach down to give him a rub and a gentle squeeze before he removes your hand and strokes your fingers inside of his stained ones.

God, he's like walking viagra. Constantly fucking hard. Well, he is dead. Technically the term is rigor-mortis... 

“The things I still want to do to you..." he utters with a low grunt. "But you need sleep.” He purrs gently, smoothing down your frayed hair.

“Stay,” you whimper as he pulls away.

“Can’t tonight, baby. Got lots to catch up on. You’ve kept me busy all day. Going to have to pull an all-nighter.”

“Oops.” You smile dreamily at him.

“Oops.” Max remarks with a dangerous grin. “You think you’ll be in tomorrow? Could really use your support with the audit.”

You nod. “I’m feeling better already.” 

“Good.” He smiles and kisses you once more. “Rest up. Tomorrow I’m going to fuck you in the supply closet from eleven til half-twelve. I'll send you a meeting invite.” He smirks as he pulls down and buttons his cuffs.

The noise that comes out of you in response makes him chuckle darkly.

Holy fuck… 

Max pulls away from you, slipping out of your grip, leaving you to settle on the bed as he gathers his jacket. He pulls your bloodied panties out and gives them a sniff as he winks at you.

You can only imagine what he's going to do with them later.

He leaves the bedroom and you hear him let himself out. 

You collapse back on the bed, somewhat bereft, hearing his car start up with that familiar deep roar.

It fades away down the street and takes any sense of conscious thought you have with him. 

Rolling over and reaching for the B-12, you sigh out with a satiated smile and close your eyes thinking about the supply closest.

And the amount of times your freakishly insatiable boss, Max, has fucked you up in there already.

I really hope you enjoyed reading this Max Phillips story of mine. Just love a bit of hungry, gnarly Max, don't you? If you enjoyed what you just read, please consider re-blogging. Thank you so much! 🖤🩸

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[chronically-ghosted]

the only thing we have to fuck is fear itself

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 5309

summary: You get drunk at a happy hour and tell Max to his face you don’t find him scary at all. He takes that personally.

warnings/tags: drinking, like two seconds of scary vibes, smut, (secret) established relationship, work hard, play hard, have secret sex with your coworker even harder

a/n: I’m so sorry to FDR for butchering his quote for the sake of a title, but i like to think that horny bastard would have loved my smut.

🤍AO3 Link 🤍 Masterlist 🤍 Get notified when I post new works!

Despite working at a place that was quite literally soul-sucking, your coworkers could throw one hell of a happy-hour. 

There wasn’t a bartender in a ten mile radius from the office who didn’t know you all by name, didn’t shout a greeting over the tightly-packed house the instant you walked in. Rarely was it just a single crew member at the bars – you often got accused of moving in a pack like a five-headed hydra that could drink double its own weight in liquor, beer, and frosés – and being only two-fifths human, the Monster Squad was an alcoholic force to be reckoned with.

Maybe because you actively promoted unity amongst the species, like poster children for positive and “non-toxic human-demon relationships” HR kept encouraging in their Monday-Funday email blasts, but your little group was something of a legend in the area. You thought any notoriety was more likely due more to your faces plastered all over the bars’ trivia night winner boards, but in the office, people tended to stare. Trish, a siren from Santa Barbara, loved the attention, said it was good for her skin – gave her a “dewy” look. Nita, the only other human in your group besides you, disagreed with Ken (a quarter leprechaun on his mother’s side) when Ken claimed the whispering came from the sheer volume of nonsense that started around 4PM in the office on Fridays and continued until you all left the office. Ken was of the belief that the notoriety was actually infamy – to which he was promptly booed and had to buy the next round. 

And yet, to yourself, to the quiet conversations you had in the bathroom mirror after two long island ice teas and whatever was in what the centaur bartender at Lucky’s called an “Ass Whooping”, you suspected there might be another reason the Monster Squad even had a name at all. Within your own fields, each of you were respectable – Ken and Trish were both heads of marketing and Nita oversaw a considerable team of engineers, with you of course a department leader over in legal – one member of your group was, let’s say, more well-known. 

Well-known because he was the flashiest, the loudest, and certainly the most demonic of you all: Max Phillips, VP of sales, money-maker extraordinaire, and a fan-favorite amongst your Overlords, the rest of the sales team, and anyone with working and interested sex organs in the near vicinity. 

To your complete and utter annoyance.

You don’t quite remember how you all came together, who brought who into the group, and when it was unanimously decided that you’d stop snatching up office workers like limes at $5 margarita night after Trish, but it was Max who kept you together, who set up the group chat (somehow mysteriously gathering all of your phone numbers after a very late night), who bullied anyone who responded to his weekly “winner winner liquid dinner” texts every Friday morning with a tepid maybe into coming out that night. He already seemed to know half of the bartenders in the city, all of whom were happy to send over a free round of tequila shots as a “thank you to Max’s friends”. While you’d never look a gift vampire in the mouth, you were suspicious of his influence. Was that vampire hypnosis real? Did he have a pack of lesser, baby vamps to send out to tenderize the hunting grounds?

One thing’s for sure, he definitely didn’t scare them into it. 

“Has Halloween, like, changed for anyone else?” Nita grouched over her second Sangria Spritzer two hours into another fantabulous happy hour at Heel Clicks. The four of you were huddled into your comically small booth up on the landing near the back bar – of course there were other seats available but this had the best view, the closest access to your favorite bartender, and at some point, the shoulder-to-shoulder proximity served as a way to counteract the tipsy swaying. 

Trish leaned around Ken, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” Nita shrugged hopelessly. “It used to be one of my favorite holidays when I was a kid. I loved the candy, the costumes – all of it. But I really liked being scared the most.”

Ken sorted into his old-fashioned. “Well, if you’re still scared of things you were as a kid, Nit, I think you’ve got a bigger problem than seasonal preference.”

She elbows him and he knocks into Trish.

“Not like that . . . but, like, monster movies aren’t really scary anymore? I mean, I used to watch Ginger Snaps religiously around Halloween, but, uh, now that I know an actual werewolf and he’s the nicest little old man in accounting, I dunno . . . it’s just not the same.” 

“Sorry to burst your bubble on monsters,” Ken shrugged. “But I personally cannot relate. As a member of the Free Folk, my people have always been welcomed, seen as bringers of good will towards man.”

“You know there’s eight movies where a leprechaun murders literally dozens of teenagers, right?” You turned to Ken over Nita, your entire right buttcheek hanging off the edge of the booth. 

“Oh, yeah, baby Jennifer Aniston,” Trish mused, thinking. “If that’s what your uncle looks like, Ken, then I posit Halloween is still fucking creepy.”

“Halloween is definitely creepy and it sucks.” Your ringleader has returned with electric-green jello shots. Max Phillips carried a tray with one hand, his immaculate blue jacket gone to display firm forearms underneath his white, rolled-back sleeves. “Bunch up, kiddies, Daddy’s back with treats.” 

Half the group groaned, the other squealed in delight.

Max hip-bumped you, his ravenous cologne immediately making you think unwise thoughts, as he pushed his way onto the bench absolutely not made for this many people. He looked back at you as he passed out the drinks.

“Now why are we all in agreement that Halloween is a lame holiday?” 

“Nita claims that because she personally knows a werewolf – Ned, right? – she’s not scared of monster movies anymore.”

Max scoffed. “Well, there’s your problem right there. Werewolves were never scary to begin with.”

“What monster movies have you been watching?” Nita gaped at him. “Maybe it’s bad representation, but all the movie werewolves can tear you to shreds!”

Ken nodded solemnly. “This is why affirmative action is so important.” 

Trish smacked him over the back of the head. 

“So, what?” Max continued, crunching up the jello in its plastic cup. “Now that you know me, a vampire, you think all Dracula movies give blood-suckers a bad rap?”

“No, being a human-sized mosquito with too much hair gel is doing that all on its own.” You smirked, dead-eyed, at him. Behind you, Ken and Trish snorted so hard they almost spilled their drinks. 

Max narrowed his eyes at you, in a look he only gave you when you wouldn’t let him ease around legal loopholes “for the good of the business”. Only Nita seemed to be oblivious. 

“That’s a good point, Max.” She thoughtfully stirred her jello with her pinky, unsticking it from the sides of her cup. “I mean, I guess I never watched that many vampire movies to begin with.”

Max broke his heated staring contest with you to look around at Nita, elbow pressing up into your chest as he leaned forward on the table. “I can promise you, doll face, vampires have been and always will be more terrifying and lethal than werewolves.”

“Not the argument I think you want to make, mate,” Ken murmured as you shifted yourself to face Max entirely. 

“Oh, yeah? Enlighten us all –,”

“Nope,” Trish called down the row, “we’re taking this shot before you two get into it again.”

“To Ned!” Ken yelled. 

“To Ned!” 

Plastic crunched, tongues slurped, as jello ungracefully slipped into every open mouth down the bench. You licked your lip, tip of your tongue green. Max watched the movement out of the corner of his eye. 

“So, enlighten us, Max, why should we be so afraid of you?” 

Max grinned out the side of his mouth. “One, I’ve seen more bite out of a pomeranian than one of those Tribbles. And two, whatever-wolves can only get it up once a month. I’m all monster, all the time, baby.”

At this, everyone groaned.

“Dollar to the Dick Jar!” Trish smacked her hand on the table.

“Here, here!”

Max pouted as he took a dollar out of his wallet and slammed it into the center of the table, payment towards tips or the bill or whoever suffered the most due to The Dick. 

“Face it, buzz,” you shrugged as he put his wallet away. “You’re just not scary any more, if you ever were.”

“Is that right?” 

Fuck, you were in a lot of trouble. Beneath the table, his thigh soaked yours in heat. 

“That’s right.”

“You know what is really scary?” Ken muttered, digging around in his crushed up for the last remnants of jello. “Kelpies.”

“Ah – yes! They’ve got sloppy fangs covered in algae!”

“Hey – that’s my cousin you’re talking about!”

Heel Clicks was hands down one of your favorite bars in the area. Devoted to the local music scene in the area, the vibe was a mix of old 70s rock bands, modern steel, and whatever justified lots of mounted horns and hairy cow-skin stools. The drinks were great, seasonal too, and there was always live music on the patio out back. In a twist that you found particularly cool, the old rum-runners tunnels had been converted to comfortably spacious bathrooms in the basement. Behind the solid oak door, the noises from the above bar are nearly entirely muffled, making the slow descent to the bathroom something of an out-of-body experience when you’ve had a few and the sudden silence is almost an echo. 

Plus, these fucking stairs are a death trap. 

You embarrassingly clutched at the railing, the wooden stairs at far too sharp an angle even if you were sober as a judge, much less at a Monster Squad happy hour. 

Stupid Max and his stupid drinks and his –

What was that?

You stand up right on the third to last step, listening. 

In the half darkness in front of you, there are three paths available. To the left, employee storage, the lights above the door flickering, the sign reading “do not enter” pulsating in and out of visibility. To your right, another door, maybe an exit. Always unmarked and always locked every time your drunken curiosity got the better of you. 

And across from the stairs were the bathrooms, left women, right for men.

God, what year is it? Shouldn’t it all just be gender-neutral? You think to yourself, a tad bit more aggressive than you’d usually oppose the gender binary – primarily to wash out the rising concern at the back of your neck.

You are alone down here. It’s obvious. It’s not like there’s that many places for some dastardly villain to hide. Four shut doors and three hallways. Unless some maniac was curled up under the stairs, you are the only person in the basement. 

At least, the only person you can see. 

You don’t realize how sweaty your hands are until you try to continue your way down the stairs. You take a step and nearly slip, the eyes you know are on you somehow laughing. 

One blinking light. No where for anything to hide, so why are you so nervous? You are an adult woman, for god’s sakes. You make it to the floor, the most likely candidate for your demise behind you and –

The stairs creaked. 

The empty stairs that you just walked down creaked and you nearly leap across the hallway to put space between you. Heart in your throat, you make the monumentally stupid decision and call out, “hello? Is anyone there?”

As if the serial killer was just going to announce himself, give up the whole element of surprise.

Blinking through the bleary haze of too many drinks, you take out your phone and flip on the light. A white beam chases back the encroaching darkness, a frantic worried ghost peering through the gloom. And yet, like you consciously know, there’s nothing there. But the darkness feels heavier, the eerie distant noise from the bar above so quiet and removed the sound is more of a memory – the idea of what comfort and community should sound like. But it’s not. It’s too far gone – if anything were to happen, it’d be hours before they found you. If they did at all. 

“Oh my god,” you scold yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Get a fucking grip and go pee and then go back up those fucking stairs and –,”

Okay, that was definitely breathing.

Breathing, right behind you. Ragged, hungry, disembodied breathing, in your ear and your heart ricochets into your chest. Your own breath turns short, choppy, panic swelling into your ears, over your fingers. You think you might drop your phone, your fingers are so numb from fear, so you clutch tighter, the trembling throwing white light across the paneled wood in a craze. 

Be rational, this is crazy, there is nothing down here! 

The stairs snarl again and you squeak, all but bolting for the women’s bathroom, desperate to put at least some space between you and those fucking stairs, put some boundaries between –

The door is locked. When the fuck is this door ever locked?

Panic recedes to overwhelming rage because fuck, fuck, fuck, now you’re trapped in here – you can’t go back to the stairs – you rattle the handle, shaking the door against its lock –

“Fucking let me in!”

The light above the exit door goes out. And then the other. You throw all of your weight against the bathroom door. You claw at the handle, begging it to give way. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck – you can hear the darkness breathing –

No, speaking – it’s saying something, chanting, mocking, calling out – calling out your name –

The door suddenly unlocks and you stumble forward – into something solid –

Its hands grab you and like a fucking fool, you played right into its trap. 

It turns you, throws you up against the tile wall, its claws around your shoulders, cold tile against your cheek and you whimper. Whimper when you feel the soft pin-prick of fangs against the back of your neck – fuck, this is how it ends?? – and –

“Got you.” 

That voice.

That condescending, snide, bratty, little –

You elbow the solid body behind you and Max lets out a puff of air, staggering back. You whip around, nearly snarling in his smirking, beautiful face. The bathroom is dark, black tiled walls and floors with a faux-wooden sink and dim lights across the top of the mirror. In the flushed orange light, his eyelashes encourage thick shadows under his eyes and in the collar of his throat. If it wasn’t for that insufferable smile, he’d look painted from thin brush strokes and heavy scarlet paint. 

Caravaggio, eat your heart out. 

“Max, what the fuck was that?” 

He rolls his eyes, rubbing the spot on his chest where you hit him, at the top of his ribcage. “Oh, c’mon, it was just some fun. Saw you sneak off after you got Nita’s drink and thought I’d mess with you just a bit.”

You sigh, willing your heart to slow down, throwing your gaze to the ceiling and dropping your head against the tile.

“God, you asshole, I thought I was gonna die.” You swallow and move your hair out of your face. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I what?”

“You scared –,”

That smile, the crack of fangs across his mouth, widens, the bottom of his lip rolling back over the cut of his teeth, those brown eyes melting into a warm, obscene black, as he meets you hip first against the wall. 

His hands climb over your waist, as though daring you to hit him again, and your thigh muscles tighten. Your hands instinctively trace the exposed skin left by his opened collar at the dip of his throat when he comes closer, chest pressing up against yours, nose against your temple. 

Fuck, it shouldn’t be this easy for him. You sigh through your nose, eyes rolling shut, when he nips at your cheek.

“I think you were supposed to be mad at me.”

“I am,” you groan. “I’m livid. I’m enraged. I’m –,”

His thumb brushes your ribs – not tickling, not entirely touching, but just reminding. Reminding of the force behind his touch, behind his teeth. 

“Baby girl,” he chuckles softly, the sound running down your neck like rain, “you’re melting in my arms.” 

“This doesn’t mean I’m scared of you.” You focus on the softness of his hair between your fingers, the heat of the back of his neck beneath the pads of your fingertips – resolutely ignoring the radiating scent of his cologne coming from up under his collar. More than once had he come across you in his apartment bathroom, sniffing that bottle like some dopey perv looking for a quick fix. Of course, instead of admonishing you, he bent you over his sink and fucked the daylights out of you, his wrists singing with the smell of that cologne. Now he wore it to work wherever he wanted something from you, particularly to overlook some pesky lines of legalise. 

In the hallowed darkness of the bar’s bathroom, he drops a single kiss just below your jaw, inches beneath your ear. He grumbles when your pulse there quickens, and again his fangs find a curve of skin to press against – a reminder. 

Always reminding, always lurking, a threat without a promise.

And he knows exactly what that does to you. 

You release a full body shudder when his hands drop lower, guiding you back against the wall, fingers rounding around your thighs. Like interlocking pieces, your bodies slide together, your arms curling around his neck, the heat of his chest branding yours as it forces you against the wall. You’re breathing all wrong again, but for different reasons this time. You catch a flash of the ink-well darkness of his eyes when he nuzzles out of your neck to admire the mess he has made of your skirt.

“Can I fuck you in this or is this thing too tight?” He asks, like he specifically didn’t get on his hands and knees and beg you to wear that gray pencil skirt only twelve hours earlier. 

You lean up, snagging his bottom lip between your teeth, kissing him roughly and showing him he’s not the only one with a little bite. He groans softly, one hand curling into your hair at the base of your skull, and he licks you, from the front of your lips up to the valley of your mouth. He tastes like the sweetness of his whiskey n’ coke, his tongue rubbing the flexing muscle of yours, the sharpness of your molars. You could spend hours just sucking on his plush mouth. 

Maybe he did scare you. Maybe he should have scared you more, the threat of anyone discovering your relationship a real danger to both of your careers. Maybe it should have scared you, how little you cared about any of that when he palmed your breast over your shirt. 

You inhaled over his mouth, popping off his lips with a moan, his hand cupping you roughly as he dove in to suck marks on your neck. Every moment that passes, you feel your skin ratcheting up with heat, blood almost hot. He thumbs your perk nipple through your shirt and you arch your chest, his massive palm nearly cupping your ribs to your spine.

“Max, either you figure out how to fuck me in this skirt or you owe me a new one.”

“You want me to rip it off you?” He slurs, eyelids heavy, his thigh slides in between your knees, the fabric preventing him from going higher, to the place where you both need him. You groan in frustration and his hands squeeze your hips at the sound. “Tell me fast, baby, because I can’t–,”

“For the love of – just fucking lift it up–,” His hands fumble over yours as your fingers curl under the hem, his own want making that brilliant mind for numbers almost stupid. His warm fingers overwhelm your own as they push your skirt up your waist, and then dig around the line of your pantyhose. 

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to Fort Knox me out of your pussy? Why are there so many layers?” 

You hiss at him as you slide out of your heels and shove your nylons to the ground, hopping on one leg to take them off your feet. “It’s like you’ve never undressed me before.” 

Freed of the chaos of your underthings, Max’s hands rush to his belt, the clinking of the metal sending shivers down your back and straight up your cunt. He doesn’t notice because he’s obsessively watching your thighs. “I’ve never undressed you with our coworkers a floor above us and probably becoming increasingly suspicious about where the fuck we are–,” 

You take him by the back of the neck, hand clenching around the starch white of his shoulder. He comes to you, zipper digging into your hip bone as he pulls you up off your feet. For once that chatty mouth is quiet, open and wet with desire as he takes in your flushed face, the blood pumping under your tits. Max is nothing if not almost supernaturally consumed by the look, feel, texture, and taste of your tits. 

The look on his face is one of those reasons you tend to throw caution to the wind, why your heart almost feels too big for your chest, whenever he’s around. 

He hooks an arm around your low back, tilting your hips forward. You feel the heat of his cock somewhere below you and it takes all of your strength not to grind down. 

“Max –,” he’s not even inside of you and you’re already begging. You bite down on his ear to stifle whatever was rising up your throat. 

“Hang on, baby, I gotta make sure you . . .”

Using your shoulders as counterbalance, he holds himself up against the wet warmth of your cunt, breath stuttering as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds. That bratty aloofness is gone; he wants to sink so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, baby, I didn’t even get you ready – but you’re already so wet –,”

You don’t resist grinding down now and he knocks his shoulders forward, needing movement, but fighting against the urge to buck up into you, gasping from the feeling of your cunt. 

“Please, Max, just –,”

“Yeah, I know, baby, okay, just, I gotta . . .” 

He angles himself and you arch your back, unable to watch with the mess of your skirt around your waist, but he finds it, finds your opening, the place he loves to mark, and without any warning, thrusts his length up into you. 

The stretch, the surprise, the ear-ringing split between being empty and then stuffed so full – you can’t help but moan so loudly, you sing to the ceiling. For a moment, your bodies hum with the stillness, the blood in your cunt pulsating around him, you claw at his broad shoulders, need him closer, needing that smell of him that haunts your empty bed as far inside of you as his cock is. His hips stutter and he presses one hand against the tile by your ribs, teeth clenched against the sensation. 

“When I fuck you, every time feels like the first time. Every goddamn time.” 

It’s not particularly the confession it could be, but you shake your head, clearing it of anything stupid like feelings for Max Phillips, your chin brushing his jaw, his nose against your ear. 

“Then do it,” you whine. “Just fuck me, Max.”

With a groan that could be mistaken for a snarl, he lifts you both up right, pushing your hips down and spreading yourself over him. You lock your ankles around his back a second before he pulls out halfway, then to jerk back in with such force and precision your eyes roll to the back of your head. He sets a pace that has pleasure weaving a tight drum just under your stomach. Each sweaty thrust fires sparks up your spine. He really is so fucking good at this. 

This is the release you need, you both need. Sure, it’s an after-effect of having a high-powered job, but it’s also more than that. Max fucking you is unfortunately very often the highlight of your day. He knows what you need, how you need it – how hard to drive his cock into you, it makes you tongue-tied and dizzy. The fast pump of his cock, how it feels to split you apart over and over again, the back zipper of your skirt digging into your back – it’s too fucking good.

“Don’t know where you get off giving me orders,” he grunts, the pounding of his hips into yours rapidly shoving you up your ascension. The slapping, wet noise in the empty room is obscene. “I’m a fucking VP, little girl, and I–,”

You tense your muscles around his cock and he fumbles, his knees buckling momentarily. 

“Do not fucking bring up the org chart right now,” you hiss, your own edge yanked away when he stills. “I’m almost there–,” 

Quicker than he’s been all night, Max lunges forward, mouth open and teeth bare. He bites your neck and then he bites you. 

Fangs puncture your skin, not deep, but enough that your body is thrown into a messy coil of nerves and adrenaline. It knows you could die like this, even if you’ve only ever called the vampire a mosquito to his face, and triggering a self-preservation instinct, your body trembles from the sudden blast of sensation.

Your pupils dilate further than they were, your skin becomes overly aware of every drop of sweat, every flutter of hair, every rub of flesh – and your fucking nerve-endings feel like static, as if brushed by lightning. 

Pleasure so-white hot it almost burns roars up your spine, slick coating his cock inside you, and you cry out. Wail in his ear. Begging him to make it better. To give you your release. The feel of his cock pounding up inside your now-overly ripe cunt brings tears to your eyes.

“Oh, fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck – Max, p-please –,”

“Can you handle it if I touch you?”

You shake your head. “Yes, yes, please, touch me.” 

“You can’t keep screaming like that,” he scolds you breathlessly, the punch of his hips bouncing you against his cheek. For all his vampire stamina, the flush of exertion across his cheeks is truly staggering and a triumph for your ego. Flecks of blood dot his mouth. “Someone’s going to come looking.” 

“I don’t care,” you groan, angling your hips to take more of him. His hand not on your back cups under your knee, tugging it higher up his torso. His pace is relentless, overwhelming – with his weight on top of you, and his cock up under you, inside you, you’re consumed by Max Phillips. “Whatever you do, d-don’t stop. Don’t stop.” 

“You scared I’m gonna?”

“Yes,” you whine. You can feel your heart pounding out its shape into your ribs. 

“Good girl. And good girls get to fucking come.”

Balancing your increasingly limp body, he holds you up right, his hand snaking beneath your skirt, between the sweat of your thighs and his torso, and –

He thumbs that buzzing bundle of nerves, “come for me, baby”, and you do. You come screaming, the tension snapping, vision sparkling with stars, and you are shoved over the edge. You don’t know you’re wailing his name until he comes too, all concern for getting caught seemingly gone as he begs you to continue as he fills you up with his pearly, gooey cum:

“That’s right, say my name. Say my fucking name, sweetheart.” 

His hips thrust weakly, some instinct choking him until he makes sure every drop of him stays in you. You’re going to be dripping for hours. 

His skin is fire-hot beneath his starched white shirt. You’ll be thinking about that for days afterward when you see him in the hallways of the office. 

This is what scares you the most. When you realize it's over and neither one of you want it to be. 

Shaking from exertion, Max slowly sets you down, unwinding your legs from his waist, your ankles trembling against the cold tile. You couldn’t imagine putting your nylons back on, the thought of that pressure against the curve of your lower stomach while you are so full of his cum practically unbearable. 

He lifts his head from your neck, eyes intentionally avoiding you as he inspects where he bit you, breath coming in ragged, long gasps. Sweat darkens the hair at his temple and that post-fuck blush is staggeringly gorgeous on him. He pricks his thumb on the sharp edge of his fangs and with a scarlet bead balanced on his thumb, he smears his blood against the puncture wounds, like someone would wipe dirt away from a loved one’s skin. 

It doesn’t really hurt, but the effects leave your neck tingling. You’d never say this out loud, but you fucking loved when he did that. 

He steps away without looking at you, giving you time to adjust your skirt, your hair in the mirror. You help him straighten his collar because it’s not like he can use the mirror to check himself.

He grins, the flush fading far too rapidly from his cheeks. 

“What are you going to tell them?” You nod to the stairs on the other side of the wall. “This can’t look good for us.” 

“You got attacked by a werewolf on the way to the bathroom. I saved you.” 

“Thought you said werewolves weren’t scary.”

He shakes his head, smirking, then presses a kiss to your temple. “Just said I was the bigger monster between the two of us.” 

“My hero.” You turn your head until his lips drink in yours. 

It is dangerous, your feelings for him. 

He taps you on the butt, pulling away. The lines around his eyes do an excellent job of masking the hurt in the brownness of his eyes. 

“Gimme five, then you come up. Can’t have you looking so completely debauched.”

He kisses you again, betraying whatever amounted to “cool and collected” he attempted for, and without another word, he slides out the door. 

His smell lingers in the air long after he does. The throbbing of your cunt also serves as a fantastically bitter reminder.

You go back to the mirror because yes, you could not have been more obvious if you were wearing a sign that said, “hi, yes, I did just get my back blown out.” You try to fold your hair around your ears at least a dozen times before pulling it back in what you hope to be a casual pony-tail. You toss your nylons into the trash can, pleading that the “oh, I tore them in the bathroom” excuse might hold an ounce of water. 

You think about what’s waiting for you a floor up and your stomach clenches. 

Fucking Max could upset the dynamics of your little group, your little Monster Squad. Whatever the stupid office bylines were, your happy-hour social group is one of the bright spots in your life, especially while working at a place run by those bastard Overlords. 

And Max knew that. He didn’t want to risk your long-term happiness for his short-term. 

Max didn’t scare you because he was a monster.

He scared you precisely because he wasn’t.

You open the bathroom door and return to the world. 

#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips smut #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal characters

[max--phillips]

The File Room

This is the fic I wrote because I started a run of the mill office job a little over a week ago and couldn't help myself. Partly inspired by the fact I did, in fact, spend a good part of my day one day filing contracts away. Enjoy! (oh, also, tagging @miraclesabound as requested!)

Pairing: Max Phillips x afab!reader (otherwise gender neutral, no references to reader's chest)

Warnings: office shenanigans, Max sneaks up on reader and gets punched for it, reader gets eaten out from behind, piv, creampie, a little bit of spit plus something extra (but I'm not gonna ruin the surprise), Max and reader have an ambiguous relationship (ie not explicitly romantic but could be read as such)

Word count: 2k

You had a stack of reports that needed to be filed away. A big stack. And of course, because nothing can be easy, it’s not like they could be all put in the back of the drawer and be considered in order. No, they all had to be put in order in their respective accounts based on which reports they were and what dates they covered and on and on and on… Normally you wouldn’t mind doing this, because you were pretty good at staying on top of putting them away as you got them, a few at a time at most. But unfortunately, one of your coworkers from the sales department was recently… relieved of his position, and he left the big stack of reports behind. Completely unorganized to boot. You were going to be among the filing cabinets and bankers boxes for quite a while.

Honestly, while you were at it, a few of these accounts could stand to get reorganized… Lord knows some of your coworkers barely even tried to put these reports in the right spot… So off you went to the large room filled with shelves and filing cabinets, earbuds already in and playing your favorite music to work to.

A couple hours into your project, the door to the storage room opened. You didn’t hear it, so you were still entirely focused on your current task. You were putting away a stray report, bent over at the waist to get to the back of a filing cabinet drawer. This gave Max Phillips a spectacular view of your ass. And to make it all that much better, you just so happened to be wearing his favorite bottoms on you. He closed his eyes for a moment and brought his fist up against his mouth in a quiet celebration of this treat.

Max was the sales manager in the office, and despite being in a different department, you somehow managed to spend quite a bit of time together. You’d caught on like a wildfire when he started--after you’d managed to see through his extremely irritating caricature-of-a-business-major facade, that is, and made it clear you weren’t going to put up with his bullshit. That was when he asked you out for drinks after work one Friday, let you in on his little supernatural secret, and very thoroughly disproved your assumption that he was not particularly good, and certainly not very generous, in bed.

Max continued to watch you from the door as you worked for a few more moments, quietly locking the door because of course he was going to get a taste of you in here, how could he not? You dropped a small stack of files you had set aside, and cursed as they fluttered onto the floor. You got on your knees to gather them up again, another sight Max would never tire of, before getting back up and resuming your sorting.

Max finally decided to actually make his presence known. Clearly you were in the zone, your earbuds blocking out the rest of the world. He came up behind you, shamelessly taking your ass in both his hands.

You shrieked as you felt hands on your ass, scaring the hell out of you as you hadn’t heard anyone come into the room. You then whirled around, and, without thinking or registering who actually was doing this… punched the perpetrator directly in the face.

Max recoiled, bringing his hands to his face, as you realized what you’d just done. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hands, afraid for a moment you’d actually done damage or hurt him.

“Oh my god, Max, don’t do that! Are you okay?” you asked, reaching out a bit as you realized you’d definitely hurt yourself. You looked at the knuckles on your hand that had collided with his face, investigating for any visible injury as you clenched and unclenched your fist.

Max started laughing, standing back upright and taking his hands away from his face. “I’m fine, holy shit, if that was anyone else though, they’d have a very broken nose,” he said, taking your now aching hand in his, and looking at you with what someone might call adoration. “Are you okay?”

You sighed in relief, then took out your earbuds so you could actually participate in a conversation with him. “I think so. Don’t fucking scare me like that again, though.” You firmly poked him in the chest, glaring at him.

Max chuckled a little. “Message received, don’t worry,” he said. “Sorry I scared you. I saw how good your ass looked just a second ago and couldn’t help myself.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks. Do you need something, or did you just come in here to grope me? I have a lot of reports to put away now that your shitty employee is gone,” you said, gesturing towards the still pretty substantial stack of reports. “And I think I’m going to reorganize some other accounts while I’m back here.”

“Actually…” Max started, taking a few steps forward, making you take a few steps back, towards a table between two sets of shelves that was just below hip height. He let go of your hand and turned you around, moving you to bend over. He once again put his hands on your ass, then dragged them to your hips, then the waistband of your bottoms, which he pulled down and out of the way along with your underwear, letting the fabric pool around your ankles. He got down on his knees, pulling your flesh apart where your ass met your thighs, exposing your cunt to him. “I think I’m gonna do a little more than grope you.”

You muffled a moan as he licked through your folds, then prodded at your hole with his tongue. “Max… I really need to get this done…” you said, but only half-heartedly. You’d definitely much rather be doing this than filing reports all day.

Max hummed, the tone questioning your statement as his tongue moved again, his mouth enveloping your clit and sucking gently. It was a teasing motion, and it made you groan in frustration. “You’ll have plenty of time, sweetheart,” he said, mischief thick in his tone.

He licked against your clit again, then switched to sucking on it, and back and forth for a while, driving you crazy. You were getting close, you just needed…

“Max, fuck, please,” you groaned, reaching behind you and grabbing his hair, pushing him further into you. He firmly sucked your clit into his mouth for a long moment, and groaned into your pussy, which did you in. You moaned as you finally tumbled over the edge, only barely muffling the tail end of the sound. Max worked you through it, lapping up your release feverishly, until you were pulling his hair the opposite direction, starting to edge on overstimulated.

He pulled away, his hands going from the back of your thighs to your hips again as he stood up. “Don’t tell me you’re done,” he said. You looked over your shoulder to see his downright devilish grin. His face was wet with your juices--a sight you were quite a fan of, honestly. “Because I’m not done.”

You smiled as you pushed your hips back, connecting with his. Max grunted as his cock, still confined behind his pants and boxers, made contact with your ass, grinding together briefly before he took half a step back to unbuckle his belt and shove his pants out of the way enough to fuck you. You both moaned as he swiped the tip of his cock through your slit, then began pushing into you at a pace you would describe as teasingly slow given how ready you were for him.

“Are you teasing me to keep me away from my job longer, Phillips?” you taunted, though you were unable to stop the groan leaving your throat as his cock rubbed up against something delicious inside you, just like it always does.

“As if you don’t love this,” he said, snapping his hips forward the rest of the way, ripping another sound from you. You could only imagine the grin on his face at this point, especially knowing there was no arguing with that.

Max began fucking you in earnest, setting a quick pace right away--no matter how much he’d like to, he couldn’t keep you both occupied all day. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back to stand up against him, wrapping his other arm around you to rub your already sensitive clit as he did. You moaned out again, clenching down around his cock as he gave you more stimulation, which made him groan in your ear. He could smell your blood rushing in your vessels just millimeters below the skin of your neck right by his lips, but he would save that for when you were over at his place, not in the file room at work. He compromised by merely nibbling on your skin, then sucking a very visible mark to the same spot.

You moaned at all of the sensations he was bombarding you with, once again getting close to a climax, his expert fingers and cock slamming into that sensitive spot giving you no other choice. You should care about the hickey he just gave you, probably, but in this moment, it just added to the intoxicating cocktail he was serving you.

“I can feel you, baby, c’mon, give it to me,” Max mumbled in your ear. “Cum on my cock, I got you.”

You could never say no to that. You gave in immediately to his encouragement, crying out his name as you went over the edge a second time, your walls rhythmically bearing down on Max’s cock as you did. He moaned your name in your ear, hips stuttering as he closely followed you to his own peak, filling you to the brim. He slowed down as you both came back down to earth, dragging his hand from your clit to your hip, just holding you close to him for a moment.

Just as you thought you were out of the woods, Max bent you forward on the table again. You gasped in surprise--what else could he possibly have in store for you? You both made a noise as he pulled out, and you hummed as you felt his cum start to leak down your thigh. You gasped again as you felt Max’s tongue lick up the same path, gathering his own cum in his mouth.

Every time you think you’ve found everything he does that you find irresistibly hot, Max manages to surprise you.

Max stood again, and turned you around to face him finally. He grabbed your face, making you gasp in surprise again. He dug his index finger and thumb into your jaw at the joint firmly, and grunted, clearly trying to get you to open your mouth.

You obeyed immediately, and whimpered as he spit his own cum into your mouth. You swallowed, and he groaned, finally leaning forward to kiss you. You grinned into it, and let it go on for a while before you gently pulled away to pull your bottoms back up from the floor. Max followed suit, tucking his shirt back in as he quickly fixed his clothes.

“So… wanna come over tonight?” he asked, leaning against one of the shelves as you picked up a new stack of reports to put away.

You hummed exaggeratedly in thought. “Oh, I don’t know, Max, every time I do it’s so disappointing,” you responded sarcastically.

“Well, I bet I can make you ‘disappointed’ twice as many times as I just did if you do,” he snarked back.

You laughed quietly. “Alright, now, don’t make any promises you can’t keep,” you warned.

“Have I ever broken a promise to you?” Max asked, a very confident smirk on his face.

You honestly thought about it for a second. “No, I suppose you haven’t,” you admitted. “But we both need to get back to work. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

Max grinned, that genuine grin that made you melt a little bit every time you saw it. He kissed you again, a deep, lingering thing that was full of affection. “I’ll see you tonight.”

#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips fic #max phillips smut #x reader #my fic #tori says things #max says things #pedro pascal

[chronic-ghost]

blood makes noise

rating: E for explicit! 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 2386

summary: you are being very nice to your vampire boyfriend on your day off, so you are rightfully annoyed when ted interrupts your time together.

warnings: cockwarming, light dom/sub, blow jobs, semi-public sex, mentions of blood, no use of y/n, no beta we die like the marketing department

a/n: this is entirely @ravensmadreads 's fault. She did this. Title comes from the Suzanne Vega's song of the same name.

🤍AO3 Link

🤍Masterlist

“Baby girl, wake up.” 

A soft thumb strokes the arch of your cheek and your eyes flutter open, your head turning on his thigh. Your hips are just beginning to ache from the position and you adjust on your knees. 

“Gently, baby, gently, that’s right.”  

You sigh, your jaw going loose again, the smell of his heat, his cologne almost lulling you back to sleep. Max grins down at you from above on his leather chair, your head in his lap. “You were drooling.” 

You make a sound of protest, lifting your head up from the wet spot on his dress pants, but he chuckles and wipes the bottom of your lip with his thumb.

“That’s alright. I like it when you drool around my cock.” More awake now, you suck once and he swallows, that smirk faltering for a moment. “But I slipped out a bit. Open up now, baby.”

You nod, jaw easing open, tension releasing from the back of your throat, and his hips thrust forward just an inch more. Max groans, eyes fluttering. Your hand on his other knee tightens. “Mhmm, that’s good. You’re so good. Just a bit longer. It’s almost noon and we’ll go home after that, alright?”

You nod slowly staring up at him from under your eyelashes, with your jaw as slack as it can go with the weight of his cock pulling your mouth open. The edges of your mouth had cracked, lips dry from the open air. With concern, Max gently turns your head up to see the small cuts better, careful to not move your jaw too much. 

“We’ll get that fixed too,” he tsks. “I can’t believe you agreed to do this on your morning off.” 

You hum with contentment – you had actually been the one to suggest this weeks ago – and press your tongue up against the length of his cock. Max huffs and the hand on your jaw moves to the back of your head. He had specifically requested you pull back your hair for this and he threads his fingers in the space between your hair tie and the back of your head. 

“Can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you.” Gently, his fingers push you forward, his other hand on your shoulder. You hollow your cheeks out, ready to take even more of him. Max is nothing if not a workaholic and you lived for the moments when you got his undivided attention, when he was willing to blow off hours at a time just to eat you out. And he praised you the whole time he did it. “You’re such a good cockwarmer, baby, best I’ve ever had. I –,”

There comes a sharp rap on the other side of the desk, against Max’s office’s doorframe, and you freeze. Max’s fingers tighten on your shoulder, nails scraping your scalp.

“Howdy there, bud, you got a second to chat?” 

It’s Ted, but it’s Max’s fault for leaving the goddamn door open for anyone to waltz in. And anyone did. You huff in annoyance up at Max who briefly glances down at you before sitting back in his seat. Had it been another employee (Evan), Max wouldn’t have hesitated to tell him to fuck off. But, unfortunately, there is a hierarchy. 

Max’s shoulder jerks as he adjusts his tie, trying to wipe that blissed out look on his face. He sits up in his seat, pulling out of your mouth just slightly. But no, this is his fault. You dip your head to fill up your mouth, easing farther between his legs, even closer than where you were before. This close you can smell the musk of his groin, your throat tickling, and you muffle a moan by breathing slowly out of your nose. Max’s cock twitches. 

“Ahh– sure, Ted, sure. But uh, lunch time is, ah, coming soon, so–,”

You flatten your tongue and lick as much of his velvet skin as you can reach without moving your head. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it! Just as long as you don’t turn me into lunch!” Ted laughs at his own terrible joke. Max literally says: “Ha, ha.” 

“But, uh, before we get into it, would you mind closing the door?”

“Sure thing, buckaroo.” 

You hear Ted’s big feet clomp back over and immediately Max’s hand latches onto the peak of your ponytail, pulling you back off him. He stares down at you with almost frantic eyes.

Stop it, he mouths at you. Wait. 

But he’s grabbed your hair tie and you drop open your mouth, eyes never leaving his, letting your tongue flop out past your bottom lip. You tilt your head down, down towards his cock weeping precum, and pry open your mouth as wide as it will go. Max’s eyes go dark. His grip loosens. That’s all the confirmation you need. 

You know he’s already sensitive after having his cock in your mouth all morning, so you only lick it gently, smearing his precum over your tongue. Max shudders, his hand easing up to the crown of your head. Just waiting, sitting. Ready to pull at a moment’s notice.

“Everything okey dokey there?” 

On the other side of the desk, you hear the chair squeak and Ted’s ratty loafers come into view under the gap. Your superior’s feet are inches from your own. You adjust as quietly as you can, sitting your knees more firmly under you and you rub your hands on the inside of Max’s knees. 

“Yep. Okey dokey,” Max grits out. “Hunger pains.”

“Well, I’ll make this quick . . .” Which is physically impossible for Ted. He’s the kind of guy who wraps up a fifteen minute rant with “so, long story, short.” 

For once, you weren’t bothered by this. 

As Ted bathers on, you inch Max’s cock deeper into your mouth, your precum-soaked tongue flexing against the bottom like a heartbeat. Over the hours, his cock had gone half-soft between your cheeks, but now it flushes hard. You feel it swell and lengthen the further you take him. You reach his pelvis again, and opening your lips, you inhale. His short hairs fluttered. And then you breathe out, hot and humid. Above you, Max hides a moan by acting like he’s cracking his jaw. He tugs on your hair, not a warning, but an encouragement. Keep going. 

Max got off on this as much as you did.

The freak he is, with this suggestion, you knew you’d tease the exhibitionist in him who got painfully hard at the idea of voyeurism. Semi-public sex was like catnip to him. And watching him squirm made you drip.

You draw your hands from his knees, towards his inner thighs, as you drag your tongue against him as you tease him on the way out. All the way out. You come off with a quiet pop, that Max covers with a cough. You go back down, giving his tip the attention it deserves with a wet, slick swirl – Max’s nostrils flare, you were right he is extra sensitive – and you mold your mouth around him again, hollowing out your cheeks as you began to dip up and down, up and down. Back and forth. Back and forth. 

If vampires could sweat, Max would be drenched. His thighs tense beneath your hands as you blow him, that familiar spark settling at the crux of your legs. His lips are pulled between his mouth, frowning behind his fist, nodding, as though considering whatever Ted was rambling on about. You take him to the back of your throat and swallow. 

His whole body tenses, a mix between a groan and a gasp flying out of his throat, hips jutting forward and he hits the back of your throat again unintentionally. Your eyes water but god you want to moan, so you dig your nails into his thighs to let him know. 

“You alright there, chief?” Ted asks behind you. 

“Mhmm hmm.” You’re surprised Ted doesn’t say anything about his white-knuckled fist over his mouth. The hand on the top of your head pulls your hair and your scalp tingles pleasantly. 

You rub your thighs together. Now you were teasing yourself. He throbs in your mouth and you eagerly lap up the precum dribbling onto your tongue. You grind the heel of your hand against your clit, desperate to lower the heat humming between your legs. You need him to know that it’s time to wrap things up. 

His cock red and straining in front of you, you lick your palm and, with a smear of precum threading through your fingertips, you press your thumb up against the vein on the underside of his cock. You suck his tip. 

His fist slams down on the table, cutting Ted off mid-ramble. 

“Ted,” Max rasps out. He clears his throat. “Ted, I love this idea. Definitely a direction to take next quarter. But I’m on a s-schedule here and I’ve got meetings a-after lunch, so if you wouldn’t mind . . .”

“Sure, sure, Max! Glad to hear we’re in agreement! We’ll talk later.” 

“Sounds great.” He sounds wrecked. Ted’s feet disappear from the gap under the desk and he lumbers off. You pout up at Max, cheek on his thigh and you jerk him faster. Max’s jaw is cracking. He’s shallowly trusting against your hand, his fingers a knotted fist in your hair, and he hasn’t looked down at you in five minutes.

“Just s-shut the door on your way out,” Max groans – he can’t help it. 

The second the door sniks shut, Max’s seat jerks back, his wet cock slipping from your grasp, and his hand pinches your cheeks. 

“Open your fucking mouth,” he snarls, his irises pitch black. You open as wide as you can go, tongue cupping forward to receive whatever he’s going to give you. With his other hand, he slaps the tip of his cock against your tongue. “Lick it.” 

You do and his entire body quakes, a low grunt punching through his chest. You don’t dare move as his hand furiously strokes himself. The ache in your clit is almost painful and you whine, loudly. 

“Cocksleeve wants to tease me, huh? Wants to make me lose it in front of my boss?” His hips buck wildly, his tip driving up and down your tongue. Your heartbeat is uncontrollable. You actually drool watching him fuck his fist and you spread your legs, just a bit, but enough. You know he can smell you. His face is flushed, only slightly less red than his cock. He growls from somewhere deep in his chest. “Cocksleeve gets off on this, doesn’t she? The second we get home, I’m gonna fuck your brains out. You’re gonna lose your fucking mind.” 

You whine, from the ache and anticipation.

“I’m gonna come in your mouth now. I want you to swallow all of it. Take all of it.” 

You’re halfway nodding when his hips thrust his cock into your mouth, all the way to the back of your throat. You swear he bumps the back and comes directly down your throat and you gag, but you take it. Tears streaming out of the corner of your eyes, your torso between his thighs, you swallow and swallow and watch as Max goes boneless, squeezing the last of his spend, before slumping back in his chair and out of your mouth. 

There’s a gummy string of spit and cum from your lips as he pulls away. He’s gasping out of reflex, not a real need to breathe. 

“J-Jesus Christ.” He closes his eyes,the sight of your mouth so thoroughly fucked making him twitch painfully, and moves his chair back to give yoau room to climb out. You wipe your mouth on his thigh and go to move but you realize your feet have gone numb. 

It’s a sight, to watch him lose himself entirely, so that he reverts to his unconscious human impulses. To watch him devolve to his most basic primal state. 

“Ma-a-ax–,” the back of your throat is gooey and you struggle with his name. He rubs his chest with his knuckles before leaning forward and helping you up. Your knees almost immediately give out and you stumble into his lap. He chuckles as he pulls you in tighter, still breathless, and buries his face in the curve of your shoulder. 

“Fuck, I thought I was gonna come right in front of him.” His breath is warm, humid. It makes your already sensitive skin tingle. You know your orgasm wasn’t going to be easily earned – you were teasing after all – but you knew it was going to be good. You card through his hair, the ends near his scalp damp. 

“I kind of wanted you to,” you hum softly. “Would make your upcoming performance review very interesting.”

Something red catches your eye over his shoulder. “Max, your hand–,”

Chuckling, he lets you bring his hand up to your chest for a better look. The meat of his hand just behind his thumb has two small puncture marks, the blood drying. You brush the wound with your thumb as the skin closes before your eyes. His other hand cups the back of your neck in a way that makes your hair stand on end. He snickers as his lips tickle your ear.

“You made me bite myself, baby. Fuckin’ fangs came out when you did that thing with your tongue. Couldn’t help myself.” A shiver slides down from the top of your spine to the heat between your legs. 

With precision, you kiss his hand, the blood smears the last trace of any wound. 

He leans back and takes your chin between his thumb and the curve of his finger. His eyes are warm, pleased, but already they edge towards that hungry blackness. Vampire stamina really was a wonderful thing.

“No more talking about Ted. Only have half an hour left in my lunch break . . .” He tugs you into his mouth and you inhale, his scent a balm and a crank that ratchets your desire up higher. His thumb pets your jaw as he breaks the kiss. “Besides, I think I made a promise or two there. Something about fucking your brains out.”

His hands are already going up your skirt. 

“Sounds like you’re on the clock then, sir.”

#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips smut #pedro pascal character

[palioom]

day four - teratophilia

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 555

warnings:18+ content; no use of y/n; vampires, office sex, blood mentions, drinking blood, unprotected p in v

• kinktober 2023 masterlist •

She knew she shouldn’t be doing this. That the second she had seen those teeth, she should have been running for the hills. Anywhere, as long as it was away from him.

But it was quite the opposite, as she saw those sharp fangs for the first time, she felt oddly attracted to them. Their bearer was attractive, yes. Anyone who had eyes would call Max Phillips attractive.

Yet those teeth only added to it.

Her dreams became consumed by him, by his sharp fangs sinking into the soft flesh of her neck, piercing her skin elsewhere. Grazing over her skin, all while his strong hands left bruises behind with how tightly he was gripping her.

And now she was alone with him, in his office, her legs spread for him on his desk while his cock drilled into her again and again. Her dreams had become reality, his teeth nicking her lips as he kissed her, groaning at the taste of copper that filled his mouth.

Drinking down her sweet moans, his grip on her hip bruising, his voice darker and closer to a growl than anything else.

As his mouth descended onto her neck, only grazing his teeth over her skin, she couldn’t help the moan that slipped past her lips.

“Bite me.” She said and she was almost begging him to do it, his ears perking up at the sound. “Bite me, Max.”

“Bite you?” He echoed, his hips never losing their rhythm. Oh, what a sweet thing she was, so willing to give herself over to him. “You love that I’m a monster, don’t you, toots? Unlike everyone else who screams and runs?”

She nodded, whining when he lightly nibbled at her neck. But it wasn’t enough, she needed more of him.

“Yeah, fucking love it.” Her voice was high pitched and desperate, so close to an orgasm. Her fingers curled into his clothed bicep, eyes opening to see his dark eyes staring back at her. “Fucking bite me, please.”

He quite liked her, had smelled her nice perfume, had been lusting after her for a while. Max didn’t want to just turn her, wanted to keep her for himself and keep drinking from her. Because something about her was special, the way she came to him instead of him having to chase and capture her.

Her neck was warm and inviting, her pulse rapid. How could he resist that? While balls deep into her no less.

“Oh, toots.” He chuckled, voice dark. “You bet your pretty little ass that I will.”

Planting her teeth against where he felt her pulse, he waited just until her tight pussy began to convulse around his cock, sinking his teeth into her.

She cried out, her orgasm intensifying from the pain of his teeth, from the way she felt the blood leave her body, a certain lightheadedness taking over her.

That was her dream, at the mercy of this monster as he drank from her, pulling back eventually to press his bloodied lips against hers in a sloppy kiss. Tasting her own blood on her tongue, certainly hoping this wouldn’t be the last time she would get to fuck the monster of her dreams.

And the look in his eyes told her that this was far from the last time this were to happen.

#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #kinktober 2023 #my writing #bloodsucking bastards

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

In order to hold myself accountable, I'm posting my current WIP list.

Masterlists:

Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023:

Dark Fic MasterList:

Long Fic Masterlist:

Short Fic MasterList:

Projects I’m working on currently:

OneShots

Vampire!Frankie x Reader – Imminent.

Astarion x Reader – Coming Soon.

Long Fics

Blood Money Chapter One – Vampire Mafia AU – Dave York x Reader x Max Phillips – New! Imminent. [Art First draft]

Framing Escobar Chapter Five – Javier Peña x Reader – Coming Soon

A Feeling that Never Came Part Two - Javier Peña x Reader - Coming Soon

Where were you on Outbreak Day? – Joel Miller x Reader Jackson Era, divergence in canon (pt 2 doesn’t happen) – Coming Soon

SNAFU Chapter Six – Shifter AU/Cross over Seal Team. Jaguar Shifter!Frankie x Reader – Coming Soon.

Rendezvous in Reno Part Two – Erotica Writer!Reader x Dieter Bravo – Coming Soon

Breaking the Rules Finale – DBF! Joel Miller x Reader – Coming Soon

Worlds Collide – Din Djarin x Mercenary! Reader – Coming Soon

#pedro pascal #fanfic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the mandalorian #dave york #dieter bravo #max phillips #javi gutierrez #equalizer 2 #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york fanfiction #max phillips smut #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #javi g x reader #javi g fanfiction #the mandolarian #din djarin #din dijarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #astarion

[sinpathyforthedevilish]

Basic Instinct

Pairing: Max Phillips x F! Reader

Genre: Horror, smut, gore

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

Words: 966

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

You felt absolutely euphoric. And falling apart. 

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

He didn’t kill you that time. 

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

He left you thirsty, famished for more. 

More. More. More. 

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

The hunger for something else came within. 

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

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

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

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

Fucking bastard. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughed loudly, throwing his head back.

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

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

He was right. 

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

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

Your teeth were pricking your mouth.

No… please no. Fuck. 

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

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

Do it. Do it. Do it. 

Fuck it. 

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

“Okay, Max.” You sighed. 

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

DO IT. 

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

Like never before. 

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

“Now you are just like me, baby.”

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

The gates of hell were finally opened for you.

#max phillips #pedro pascal #max phillips x reader #max phillips fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #blood-sucking bastards #max phillips x female reader #max phillips smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader

[absurdthirst]

Immortally Human {Max Phillips x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: Vampirism, suggestive banter, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, mentions of child planning, hypnotizing, sacrifice, witch's protective spells, violence, throat ripping, staking, gore

Comments: When Max falls in love you, a human, he must get permission from his sire to tell you about his true nature. When he tells you, he must turn you or kill you and you don't want to be a vampire. Leaving Max to protect you at the cost of his own immortality.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Max Phillips Masterlist ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Babe! Are you ready?” Max calls over his shoulder from his spot on your sofa. He knows you are running behind, but the reservations are hard to reschedule and he pulled a few favors to make sure he got a table tonight. He has a very important question to ask you. “I’m coming, almost done!” You yell back breathlessly, making him grin as he checks his watch. If you had told him six months ago that Max Phillips would be in a committed, monogamous relationship, he would have called you an idiot. Laughed in your face right before he went about doing whatever he wanted. But that was before he had invited you out for a drink and fallen head over heels. Most who know him would call him egotistical. A frat-boy douche has been thrown his way several times when he’s smoozed his way into a promotion or stolen an important client. Business was what mattered and he was good at it. Leaving his private life a series of hook ups and perpetual bachelorhood until you had flipped his world upside down. 

Max was faithful. He was trying to be kind and thoughtful. Loving. Bringing you lunch or taking you out to dinner. Even sitting through movies he had zero interest in. Not because he was looking forward to getting laid after - although the sex is mindblowing - but because it makes you happy. Even though you don’t live together, he’s positively domesticated and is ready to take the next step with you.

When you come out into the living room, Max whistles. “Daaaaaaamn baby. Look at you. Looking fucking delicious.” He stands up and reaches for you, pulling you up against him to inhale your scent. He hears your blood pulsing beneath your skin and his mouth waters but he pushes that aside. Your relationship is perfect…except for one thing: you don’t know he’s a vampire. He hasn’t had the guts to tell you. Scared that you’ll reject him or be terrified of him and he only wants to see love in your eyes, not fear. He will tell you. He has to tell you. Max murmurs your name and you slap his chest playfully when he asks if you have to go to dinner. 

“Yes. It took forever getting ready and we need to eat. You can devour me later.” You say and Max waggles his eyebrows, “is that a promise?” You snort and slap his chest again but he catches your hand, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “Come on baby, let’s go eat.” He says and lets go of you so you can get your purse.

Hustling you out to his car, Max races around it and slides behind the wheel. “Hang on, baby.” He tells you with a smirk. “Gotta rush to get there.” He prefers to drive fast, in complete control of his reflexes, but you always seem to worry when he’s zooming through the streets. “We don’t want to miss our reservation.”

You grip the handle on the door and squeeze as Max rounds a corner too fast. “We aren’t indestructible. I don’t care if we are late, I just want us to make it.” You wince as the tires squeal as he accelerates and Max snorts, wanting to tell you he’s indestructible apart from wooden stakes to the heart. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’ll be fine.” He promises and reaches for your hand that isn’t gripping the handle.

You snort in disbelief beside him and Max takes his foot off the gas for a split second, allowing the speed to go down by a few miles per hour. He still can’t tell you why he’s so confident, but soon he will. “I know you’ve been looking at the menu. Tell me what you want to order, baby.” He knows talking will keep your mind off his driving.

You snort again, amused that he knows you look up the menu beforehand and already know what you will order. You squeeze his hand, "I was thinking about getting the duck. It's not something you see on a lot of menus. I want something different. Then they have this Death by Chocolate cake that is to die for, according to the reviews." You say, and Max smirks slightly at your choice of dessert.

“Then that’s what my girl will have.” He hums as he turns a corner sharply and wheels protest again. He’s only a mile from the restaurant and the reservation is in five minutes. It means he will pull up to the valet in time to escort you inside and be seated. “And we have to have a bottle of good wine to go with it.” 

“I’m gonna need a drink after your driving, Phillips.” You chuckle breathlessly as he screeches to a stop at the valet booth. “Thank God we made it in one piece.” You exhale shakily as the valet opens the door for you. Max is there in a blink of an eye to take your hand and you are always so amazed at how quickly he moves and you take his hand to let him guide you into the restaurant.

Max winks at the valet and slips him a fifty. “Take care of it.” He asks as he guides towards the door. “Was there any doubt that I would take care of you, baby?” He sends you a pout and a grin that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him when combined. Leaping forward so he can open the door for you to enter the building and biting his lip as your ass shakes in front of him. At the host stand, he gives his name. “Phillips, party of two for seven o’clock.”  

His commanding presence has always turned you on and to see him like this has you eager for him already. You are escorted to your table where Max holds the chair out for you and you sit down. “This place is gorgeous. You didn’t have to spurge like this, baby.” You say with a slight tut, knowing Max likes to spoil you but you never ask for it.

“Of course I did.” He winks at you and sends you a small air kiss. It might look smarmy to some, but he adores you. “Tonight is special. And there’s nothing like spoiling my girl.”

You wonder if you've forgotten an anniversary or something but you've been with Max for just over a year now and every day he seems to spoil you despite your requests that he saves money - you are happy to sit down at home with take out and watch a movie. You reach for his hand after he sits down, "you're too good to me. I'll have to make it up to you." You smirk, stretching your leg to nudge his ankle.

“Hmmmm, I know you will.” His own smirk is knowing, loving how uninhibited you are and how you just want him. Not anything else. You are addicted to him and he doesn’t have to do anything more than what he does now. The waiter comes up and Max looks over at you. “What kind of wine do you want, baby?”

“Mmm I think red.” You say, having decided on the duck before even sitting at the table. Max takes the wine list and scans it, selecting a Cabernet and you squeeze his hand. “Excellent choice sir.” The waitress says and says he will be back to take your order. “What are you going to order?” You ask him, “do you want to get an appetizer? I think I just want to have the entree.”

“No, no appetizer.” Max decides, sending you a suggestive smirk. “I want to save room for dessert.” Waggling his brows suggestively, he knows he will have your thighs spread wide and his tongue buried in your cunt tonight. “I’m going to just have a steak, rare.” He decides, barely even looking at the menu, too busy staring at your beautiful face. 

You fluster at the way he stares at you. Still unnerved by the way he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world for him. “That’s what you always get. And you never eat it. I swear…you always make me take it home for lunch.” You shake your head, concerned about him paying for a steak and never eating it. Before Max can explain, the waiter comes back with the bottle of red and opens it, allowing Max to taste before pouring your glass. He takes your orders and leaves you and Max to enjoy your drink.

“To us.” Max offers, holding up his glass as a toast. “To our future together and tonight is the beginning of happily ever after.” He offers, giving you a sincere smile as he waits for you to react to that. 

Your heart flutters at his words and you clink your glass against his. "To us." You practically sigh with contentment. Part of you wonders if Max is going to propose tonight and that makes your stomach twist with happy anticipation.

Taking a small sip of the wine, he makes a noise of appreciation and sets it down. Much preferring to watch you until he can capture your hand again. “I love you, baby.” He starts softly. “I’ve never felt this way, about anyone, but you - you’ve completely changed me. I can’t imagine my life without you.” 

"Max." You gasp softly at his speech. He's a very physical lover, cocky with his words but never emotional. This is rare for him to say and you are shocked but happy. He loves you and you are so in love with him, all of him. You look down at your joined hands, "Max. I- I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine."

“I want to ask you something serious.” His brow furrows slightly and he squeezes your hand. “I want you to go away with me, meet my family.” He’s never mentioned you meeting anyone in his family and while it’s not exactly a proposal, this is serious for him. “Would you come with me to Romania?”

You’re surprised again. A little disappointed if you’re honest. You thought he was gonna propose. You soon gather yourself, replacing your slight frown with a smile as you tilt your head. “Your family? I- I thought you said your parents are dead.” You frown again and Max nods, “yes, but I have an uncle. I want you to meet him. See where I’m from.” You bite your lip and think for a second, seeing the desire in his eyes and how can you resist? You nod, squeezing his hand. “Of course I will. I’d love to meet your uncle and see your homeland.”

He can tell that you are disappointed that he didn’t pull out a ring and propose to you. Knowing that you are unaware that he has to get permission from his uncle - his sire -  to marry you, and to tell you that he’s a vampire. “I love you baby. I promise that you won’t regret it.” He leans in and presses his lips to yours. “He’s going to love you.” 

**** 

It’s cold when you land in Romania and you are escorted to the black car waiting for you outside of the airport. “How the hell did you deal with the cold when you live in L.A?” You ask Max when the car is moving along to your hotel. You’re nervous to meet Max’s uncle. You haven’t heard much about him other than Max wouldn’t be who he is today without his uncle.

“Jackets.” He jokes with a grin, although he really isn’t affected by the cold like you are. It’s one of the perks of being a vampire. “You need me to keep you warm, baby?” He asks, scooting closer to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “I can warm you up just as soon as we get to the hotel if you want.” 

You giggle, turning your head to kiss his jaw. “I wouldn’t mind that. After all, this is our first vacation together. We might as well make the most of it.” You smirk and nudge your nose against his jaw. You and Max don’t live together. It’s been over a year of dating but you’ve never pushed it, knowing he might just want to do things traditionally and get engaged first. “When are we meeting your uncle?”

“Tomorrow.” Max knew that jet lag would affect you, so he had told Serge that he would bring you by tomorrow afternoon. He didn’t want you to be tired or less than your best when you meet the man who had turned him into a vampire when he was here in college. “That way you can get a good night’s sleep.” 

You snort, “a good night’s sleep with you around? I doubt it, Phillips.” You nudge him and he squeezes your arm, “I want you to like each other so maybe best if you don’t look like you got your brains fucked out all night long, huh sweet cheeks?” He hums and you smirk, “you say that now but wait until you see what I brought with me to sleep in:”

Max groans, rolling his eyes at the thought of you in lingerie. You love wearing things that make him feral to touch you, although he’s never shown you how feral he could be. Carefully keeping that side of him contained, so he doesn’t hurt or scare you. “So you want me to fuck you all night, got it.” He smirks. “Besides, it’s gonna be on the floor in shreds within minutes of you showing me.”

“That’s why I brought more than one.” You smirk and kiss his jaw, making him growl softly under his breath. 

****

“Max. This isn’t a hotel, it’s a goddamn castle.” You gasp as you enter the impressive abode, the drapery and stone imposing but warm as you step into the foyer followed by Max.

“Did I forget to mention that?” Max squints as he looks at you questioningly. Of course he wasn’t going to admit that it was a castle, he wanted to see your face as you experienced it for the first time and you didn’t disappoint him. “Sorry if it’s not romantic enough.” He pouts.

"Are you kidding me?" You chuckle humorlessly, walking over to him to wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down to press your lips against his. Your fingers running through his hair. "I love you Max. This is - it's incredible. Where on earth did you find this place?"

“It’s actually…” Max sends you an apologetic look, “not a hotel. This is my uncle’s house.” He explains. “But don’t worry.” He assures you. “I told the housekeeper we were going to keep to our room tonight. They will send up dinner and we can just crash…or…whatever.” He hums, waggling his brows again.

You are a little taken back that this is his uncle's place but you don't argue it, knowing that this place is incredible and Max likely didn't want to make you more nervous. "Uh, sure. That works babe." You nod, sliding your hands down his back. "Of course there's a housekeeper." You giggle, looking around the foyer in awe. His uncle must be important to have a home like this. "I think I'd like to try the 'whatever'." You tease, sliding your hands lower to squeeze his ass through his jeans.

“Yeah?” He leans in, growling playfully and he scrapes his teeth over your pulse. Never allowing himself to let his fangs descend, he tortures himself with the alluring scent of your blood. “Come on, baby,” he groans. “Let me show you where we’ll be staying.” His sire has already had his old rooms prepared and he knows that he won’t intrude on the two of you.

You let him guide you through the impressive hallways, walls lined with portraits, and you gasp when Max opens  the large double doors. "Max. Wow. This is - wow." You look around at the large four-poster bed, the heavy velvet drapes. It looks like a vampire's lair and the thought makes you giggle. "What's so funny?" Max snorts after setting down your bags and you spin to face him. "Nothing. Just can't believe this is real. You are - I am so lucky to have you." You turn sappy, wanting him to know how much you appreciate him.

You slide your fingers through his hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and he slides his tongue into your mouth. You know you need to shower after the long plane ride so you pull back before it can get too hot and heavy. "I want to shower baby. Can you lift my case onto the table? I gotta find my toiletries."

“Of course, sweet cheeks.” He pulls back and gives you a little wink before rushing over to the bags. You don’t know about his vampiric strength, so it’s always fun to show off how strong he is. Lifting the heavy case easily and setting it on the table. “While you search for your toiletry bag, you want me to call down to the kitchen for anything? Something to drink? A snack?” Having a human lover means taking care of your needs, far more demanding than his own.

"Some water would be nice. A snack too. I don't know what your uncle likes or has. You know what I like so just pick something, okay?" You kiss his cheek, "thanks baby." You say as you rifle through your things for your toiletry bag and the bag containing your nightwear. You shower, glad to wash the hours of traveling from your skin, and after you dry off, you put the lacy little number you bought with Max's reaction in mind. You open the bathroom door and find Max sitting on the edge of the bed.

Checking his emails, Max looks up and freezes at the sight of you in the doorway. The lacy lingerie has his cock immediately hardening and he flips the phone out of his hand behind him, letting it land carelessly on the bed as he stands up. “Fuck, baby.” He growls. “You look good enough to eat.” He chuckles. “Fuck a snack, I want the whole damn meal.

You giggle at his hungry gaze and his hands find your hips, squeezing them, and you gasp at the strength in his grip. "Damn Max, you're gonna leave bruises." You warn him playfully and he has a guilty look in his eyes that you haven't seen before. "Hey. It's okay. I liked it." You promise, cupping his cheeks.

“Sorry baby.” He’s a little out of sorts, being here. The scent of vampires is concentrated, seeped into the stones and you don't even know. He’s feeling more possessive of you, and his more animalistic side is simmering just under the surface. “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises, guiding you back towards the bed. “By eating your pussy until you scream.”

"Now that's more like it, Phillips." You let him lay you down on the bed and you look up at him as he shrugs off his button-down and exposes his chest. He's not chiseled but he's built, a strength simmering beneath the skin that takes your breath away. He slides his hands along your legs, making you stare at him, chest heaving as arousal dampens your panties. "I love you." You sigh when he kisses your knee.

“I love you too.” He’s certain that he does and he wants to prove it to you. He wants to remind you of how good it is between you before you meet his sire. Starting to shift to his stomach, he kisses down your thigh, inhaling the scent of your wet pussy and the sweet blood in your veins with a loud, pleased groan.

You whimper when his mouth presses against your panties, mouthing at your clit through the lace, and it's enough to make a moan escape your lips. Loud and echoing off of the stone walls. "That's it, sweetheart. Lemme hear you." Max murmurs as he pulls your panties to the side and you watch as his dark eyes meet yours while he drags his tongue through your folds. "Shit." You pant, toes twitching as he dives in.

Max had been good at oral before, but it was always given selfishly. It was so the girl would suck his dick or brag to her girlfriends about how good he was. So he could possibly bang them later too. This is just because he wants to. Because he’s addicted to your taste and sounds. His tongue curling up inside you and then coming back out to flick over your clit as he devours you. Groaning into your cunt like a man starved, he could spend all night between your thighs just like this and be happy pulling orgasms from you.

You whimper as he happily eats you out like a man starved. You can never complain that Max isn’t a giver with the way he licks your cunt for hours. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair and he growls into your flesh. His fingers digging deep and you know he’s going to bruise you but you don’t care, too caught up in the feel of his tongue curling inside of you, his nose pressed against your clit. “Fuck, Max. So good. Always so good.” You praise him, “love this. Love you so much.”

Max loves when you praise him, soaking it up and it makes him work even harder to pull an orgasm out of you. His eyes are dark and lust blown as he watches you, just shy of turning yellow in his desire.

You see that dark look in his eyes that he gets a lot and you love it. The hunger there makes your stomach twist and pushes you closer to your orgasm. He pushes his tongue deeper, curling it inside of you and you fall over the edge. “Max!” You squeal, thighs squeezing his head as you cum, soaking his tongue and you throw your head back as your orgasm shakes your body.

Max growls, the sound vibrating into you and he eagerly drinks down every drop of your release that you will give him. Loving how completely undone you are because of him. You’ve told him how powerful the orgasms are and he gets drunk on the pleasure he gives you as he strokes you through the high with his tongue.

You reach down to run your fingers through his hair, a lazy smile on your face as you melt into the mattress. “Shit. I fucking love you, Phillips.” You sigh happily, licking your lips and you beckon him up to you by tugging on his hair. “Want you inside me.” You request softly.

Despite the fact that he is hard and aching, Max takes his time to kiss you. Pressing his lips to your gently and licking into your mouth when you open for him. Not minding your taste, you kiss him back eagerly as he starts to slowly cover your body with his own and slide his hands down to lift your legs up onto his hips. “I love you too, sweet cheeks.” He promises when he pulls back, looking into your eyes as he notches himself at your entrance and slowly starts to push inside you. 

You moan his name as he pushes deep inside of you. "Shit Max, feels like you're in my guts." You groan in bliss as he nudges the back wall of your pussy. He is longer than any other lover you've had. You caress his back as he kisses along your neck, making you tilt your head until his lips are over your pulse. Unaware of the danger he poses as he scrapes his teeth over your skin. "Hmmm Max." You hum as he starts to move.

“You feel so good, baby.” He groans, pretending to pant because he doesn’t need to breathe. Sliding his arms underneath you, he pulls you closer as his hips start to rock fast and deep, making sure you feel every inch of his cock inside you . “Love you so much, you’re perfect for me.” 

You know you’ve never felt like this about anyone. It’s gonna always be Max. He’s your forever and you don’t know how true that rings for him. Your hands caress his shoulders as you lift your thighs a little higher, allowing him to sink deeper inside of you. “Yes, baby. Oh shit. I’m gonna - you’re - I’m close.” You tell him, amazed at the ability he has to make you cum so fast.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” He groans, eyes rolling back at the way your cunt clenches down on him. “Cum for Max, show me how wet you get when I fuck you.” He leans down and presses his lips to yours again. “I love you. Cum for me.” 

You moan into his mouth, unable to stop your orgasm from hitting you hard and your nails dig into his skin as you cum, toes curling against his ass as you clamp down on his cock with a moan.

He loves it. Moaning your name, he can’t help but fuck into you a little harder. Not too hard, he can’t hurt his little human, but enough that it enhances your orgasm and makes you squeal again. Max buries his head against your neck, hiding the way that his face starts to shift, feeling his own end starting to build. It only takes a few more pumps of his cock before he’s growling, pushing deep and filling you up with hot ropes of his useless seed. 

You sigh as Max fills you up, loving the way he relaxes on top of you, and you kiss his hair as he grunts against your neck. “I love you Phillips. So much.” You murmur, caressing his back and you feel his muscles beneath the skin.

“I love you too.” He turns once his face has morphed back to normal and presses his lips to yours, making sure that he pants so you will believe that is out of breath. He slowly pulls out of you with a groan and nudges his nose against yours before he rolls off of you onto his back so you can cuddle against him. “Didn’t tear this set.” He muses as he slides his hand up and down your lingerie clad back. “Must be tired.” Turning, he kisses your forehead. “Do you want to soak in a bath baby, or take a nap?” 

“Nap.” You murmur, shifting onto your side so you can look at him. “Definitely nap.” You close your eyes and you smile when Max kisses your shoulder as he leans over you. “Get some sleep.” He orders softly and you hum, knowing he will clean you up before he goes to sleep. He always falls asleep after you.

It never takes long for you to fall asleep after he’s fucked you. Watching you as your breathing starts to even out and before too long, you are asleep. It’s one of the reasons that you aren’t living together yet. You would notice that he never sleeps if you lived together. He could always pretend to have slept for the few nights you stayed over, but if you were constantly together, you would figure it out. You aren’t stupid. When he’s certain you won’t stir, he slowly shifts out from under you, moving towards the bathroom to get a washrag to clean you up. Smirking to himself when he sees the cum on the inside of your thighs and dripping out of you. While nothing could ever come of it, it makes him incredibly possessive to see it. 

Max sighs as he lays down beside you, watching you sleep, and he wonders what you are dreaming about until he hears his name across the castle. He can hear his sire calling him from anywhere and he groans, shifting off of the bed to dress and make his way over to his “uncle’s” suite. “Max.” Serge greets Max when he opens the door. “It’s been a long time,”

“It has.” Max admits, knowing he has not been back for years but he doesn’t apologize for it. He had been busy making his way up the corporate ladder. “And this time you have brought a human.” Serge’s expression is amused and he watches his protegé carefully. “The entire east wing smells of her blood. She is sweet.” 

Max swallows down the growl that threatens to make its way up his throat. “I’m assuming you’re here to ask me for permission to turn her?” He asks, knowing that Max needs the authorization of his maker to turn what some would call “his mate.” Max nods and stands straighter. “I’ll need to meet her of course. Tomorrow. I need to see if she’s suitable.” Serge hums, wiping some invisible lint off of his shirt.

“She will be suitable.” Max assures his sire, forgetting how abrupt he could be. “I- I love her.” He admits, knowing that Serge will take Max’s wants into account when meeting you. “She is perfect for me.” 

Serge chuckles, “I’ll be the judge of that. She smells delicious so I’m sure she will be sweet. She has tamed you, Maxwell.” Serge playfully tuts, “I never thought I’d see the day.”

He bristles slightly but allows himself to relax. “She has.” He admits. “She balances me out. Keeps me from being outrageous like I used to be.” He wants this to go well. “A perfect mate for me.”

Serge nods, “we will see tomorrow. I just wanted to see you when you arrived. You may go back to your human. She must be tired after all that traveling.” Serge says and looks out of the window at the moon that has risen high in the sky.

“Tomorrow.” Max nods and lets himself out of the suite to walk back towards his rooms. Hoping that Serge is impressed by you and allows him to turn you.

****

To say you’re nervous to meet Max’s uncle is an understatement. You know you need to impress the only family Max has if you have any chance of your relationship continuing and you focus on making sure you look good this morning so that Max’s uncle is impressed by you. You exhale shakily when Max calls you from the bedroom to let you know a breakfast tray is here. “I can’t eat, Max.” You admit, “what if your uncle hates me? I can’t ask you to choose between me and your only family.”

“Don’t worry baby.” He reaches out and wraps his arm around you to pull you close. “He’s gonna love you.” He nudges his nose against yours before he kisses you. “Please just eat a little? For me? I don’t want you to be hungry.”

You nod, kissing him again, knowing you should probably have something to settle your stomach. You reach down to take a piece of buttered toast off of the tray and bite into it, watching as Max prepares your coffee the way you like it.

“Don’t think of him as someone scary.” Max tells you, turning and handing you the coffee. “He’s just my uncle. I’m introducing the woman I love to him. He’s gonna be thrilled. You’re far too good for me.”

You take the cup and playfully roll your eyes. “Sure, Phillips.” You snort and take a sip of the coffee. “Says the man who brought me to a fucking castle.” Max chuckles and you set the coffee down after finishing it. “Okay let’s go.” You brush yourself down and try to ignore the hammering of your heart as you prepare to meet Max’s uncle.

Max holds your hand after leaving the suite, wanting to reassure you. “You look beautiful today, but you look beautiful everyday.” He compliments, lifting your hand up to kiss the back of it. “We are going to meet Serge in the drawing room. Nothing too formal, baby.”

“The drawing room isn’t formal?” You snort and Max smirks as he squeezes your hand to guide you through the ornate house to the drawing room. You exhale shakily, unaware that both men can hear your heart pounding as you enter the drawing room to find a man around Max’s age standing in the room already. That confuses you. Unless he looks really good for his age, Max can’t have an uncle that’s the same age as him.

Max beams, guiding you close to the other man. Saying your name, he motions towards Serge. “This is my uncle, Serge.” He explains. “Serge, this is the woman I want to marry.”

Your heart flutters and you turn to smile at Max as he says that. You figured he wanted to take the next step bringing you here but to hear him say it aloud has you grinning from ear to ear. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You hold your hand out to his uncle who hums as he takes your hand in his. “She’s a pretty one, Max.” He says with a wink towards you, squeezing your hand. “Do you think she’d make a good vampire?” He asks and you can’t stop the confused chuckle escaping your lips.

Max doesn’t laugh, just nodding seriously. “She will.” He tells his sire. “She has amazing self control and she’s smart as hell. If you allow me to change her, it will be good for our coven here and in the States.” Serge cares that he chooses wisely when turning people now, the unfortunate fiascos that can occur when you turn too many has been a lesson learned over the decades. He turns to look at you with a proud smile. “She would be amazing.”

You turn to look at Max with confused eyes, waiting for him to say “ha, gotcha,” but he doesn’t and that makes you gasp. “Wait…are you joking? Or - or are you for real? Like- like vampires exist and I- you are one?” You ask Max, still waiting for him to burst out laughing and say it’s all a joke.

“It’s real sweet cheeks.” Max reaches for your hand again. “It’s the reason that I’ve not been able to move in with you yet. Serge isn’t my uncle, he’s my sire. He made me a vampire and I have to get permission from him to tell you about all this.”

You pull your hand away from his reach and stare at Max in shock. He's a vampire. He drinks blood. He wants you to become a vampire. You feel sick and dizzy and have a thousand different emotions. Your vision goes fuzzy and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you collapse.

That had not been the response Max was expecting. His inhumane speed keeps you from hitting the ground and he scoops you up to move you towards the sofa. Serge tuts and shakes his head. “Does she do this often?” He asks, unsure of how well you would take transforming into a creature of the night if you fainted at the news. 

“No. She’s shocked.” Max huffs, caressing your cheek and looking down at you worriedly once he’s got you settled.

“Well she might be shocked but you have two options now. Either she’s changed or you kill her. You know the sacred rule…no human can know about us. It’s one or the other and if you can’t make a choice, I’ll have to kill her.” Serge declares.

“I’ll change her.” Max promises, knowing that he can’t kill you, not when he loves you like he does. “When she wakes up and accepts what I am, she’ll want to be changed.” 

Serge nods and turns to walk out of the room, bored with the scene. “See that she does, Maxwell.” He warns his vampiric offspring. “Or I will destroy her.” 

****

You wince when you come around, the bright light hurting your eyes and you hear Max shut the curtain as you open your eyes properly. “Max?” You croak and Max kneels beside you.

“I’m here baby.” He promises and you swallow, your throat dry. “Here.” Max says as he hands you a glass of water and you shift to sit up. 

You take a few gulps and hand the glass back to Max. “I had the weirdest dream. That you were a vampire and you -” You glance around the drawing room and back to Max. “Oh God. It’s true. You - oh my God.” You choke, trying to back away from him.

“It’s okay.” He soothes you, keeping his voice low. “Nothing has changed. I’ve been a vampire this entire time and nothing’s happened, right? I just can now offer you one hell of a health plan, eternal life.” He jokes, sending you a reassuring smile. “I love you baby, and I want to be with you forever.”

“I thought - I thought you were proposing.” You choke and Max chuckles, “I kinda am. This is the vampy way of proposing.” He winks at you and you shake your head, “that’s why- you don’t eat. You don’t sleep. You - oh God. How didn’t I see something was off?”

“Because I didn’t want you too, baby.” Max reaches for you, wanting to caress your face, but you rear back from him. Making him frown, upset that you think he would hurt you. He’s never wanted to hurt you and he never would. “It’s okay baby, I’m still me. The same man you love.”

"I - I need time to think." You murmur, head hurting from trying to process that Max is a fucking vampire, and you struggle to reconcile that the man you adore also kills people. "I - what would - if you were to change me...what happens?"

“Well….” It’s good that you are asking questions. “You would be a vampire. You’d be extremely thirsty for a few days, but I will make sure you have exactly what you need.” He promises. “You’d have better hearing, vision, and strength. You wouldn’t need any sleep. You would be the best version of yourself.”

You bite your lip as you process his words. "What about...what about having kids? Would we be able to have a family?" You ask him. You had never discussed kids. You've tried but Max has always distracted you and now you know why he did.

“Baby….” Max sighs, blowing out a sound even though he doesn’t need to breathe. “I can’t have kids. I could never have kids. Not since we met.” He won’t mention that it’s because he’s technically dead. “But we could have our own version of kids. Anyone we change.”

“Oh." You sound so defeated, almost devastated. You have been so focused on your career that you always put the children talk on the back burner but you wanted the choice. Now that's being taken away from you if you want to stay with Max. "What - what would happen if I wasn't changed?" You ask and Max closes his eyes for a second, "I have to change you...or kill you." He barely breathes out the second part but you hear it. "If I don't, then Serge will." He admits and you nod slowly. 

"I love you. I do. So much. I- I don't know." You confess and Max knows he made a mistake bringing you here. 

"It's okay, sweetheart. I'll take you home. I'll - I can sneak you out and hide you. Serge won't find you." He promises and you reach for his hand, reminded that this is Max. 

"What would happen to you?" You aren't stupid, you know there'd be consequences. 

“I'd be killed but I've had a good life. I - you made it better than I could've hoped." He reveals and you feel your eyes sting at the thought of him being killed. 

"Max. No. No. I - I'll do it. You can change me." You tell him and he shakes his head, "I can't. I know you don't want it. I can see it in your eyes. I can't change you and see you hate me in a decade when you realize how lonely this life can be." He admits and you squeeze his hand, "I want it." You try to convince yourself and him, "don't you want to spend forever with me?" You ask, wondering if he's changed his mind.

“I will have spent forever with you.” He’s grateful that Serge had disappeared to do whatever so he could talk to you. “My last days will be with you. That’s all I want.” He promises. He knows he can’t turn you against your will and you don’t love him enough to give up your humanity. “Quick. We need to leave now.” He tells you, standing up and pulling you up with him. “I’ll keep you safe.”

"No. No. Max- I won't - I can't let you die because of me. Please. Change me now." You beg, pushing on his chest as much as you can and tilting your head so you can display your neck to him. "I can't let you die baby. Just bite me, now. Please. Before I change my mind and freak out. Do it."

Max loves you even more for begging him to change you to save his life. He cups your cheek and smiles at you gently, ignoring the panic in your words and leaning in to kiss your lips. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He orders you, looking deep into your eyes and hypnotizing you with his powers or persuasion. “You will sleep now.”

You collapse into his arms, passed out as you unwillingly fall asleep. Max carries you through the house, abandoning your things to prioritize your safety and he is quick to get into the car and drive you to the airport. He needs to get you out of Romania before Serge realizes you are gone. His sire has always had such a strong conviction to vampiric law and Max knows he won't rest until order is restored. 

Max keeps you asleep until he's laying you down in your bed and he pulls out his phone to call that witch girl who he fucked a few years ago. He needs a protection spell on your apartment. When you wake up, you're extremely confused to find yourself back in your bed and Max nowhere to be found. "Max?" You call out, throat dry, and you start to sob when you realize what he's done. He's going to be killed and it's all your fault.

Max has been listening outside your apartment door, waiting for you to wake up. Since the witch has placed the spell on your dwelling, even he can’t cross your threshold. A horrible side effect, but he knows he will do whatever he needs to keep you safe. He can’t even touch the door to knock. “It’s okay, baby.” He closes his eyes and sighs, standing back a few feet from your door. “You’re safe.” He hears you rush out of your bedroom and fling the door open. “Don’t step outside!” He barks harshly. “You’re safe inside. Serge can’t reach you there.”

You don’t cross the threshold but you stare at him with tears running down your cheeks, “why? Why did you do this? I- I wanted you to change me. Now you’re going to be killed. I can’t lose you. I love you, Phillips and I - I’m so sorry. I should’ve said yes. I should’ve let you change me from the get go.”

Max shakes his head. “I love you too, sweet cheeks.” He promises you. “That's why I can’t change you.” He shrugs slightly. “You want kids, and to grow old, and I can’t do any of those things.” He swallows harshly. “I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure Serge doesn’t hurt you, even if it means that he has to kill me.” He wishes he could kiss you one last time, but the kiss he gave you while you were asleep will have to do. “Don’t be sorry, and don’t blame yourself.”

You shake your head, "don't do this. Please." You choke, clinging to the door frame as you stay in the apartment and Max blows you a kiss, "I love you, baby. Be good." He says and walks down the hall, letting you know he's going to sacrifice himself. You sob, falling to the floor and you can't let him do this. You rush out of your apartment down the hall towards where Max just disappeared down the stairwell when the elevator dings. 

"Silly girl. He was trying to protect you and you just ruined his plan. Nevermind, it makes my job easier." Serge chuckles, speeding towards you to grab your neck, making you cry out. "Max!"

Max hears Serge, growling and whipping around to race back down the hallway. Fear and anger when he sees his sire holding you by the neck makes Max snarl. His face shifting and transforming in the truly horrific visage of his true self, eyes yellow and bone structure heavy. “Let her go.” He growls, wishing you had never left the safety of the apartment.

“You can’t kill her, Max and she has to die. She knows the secret and she can’t be left alive. Either she dies or you do and I can’t lose you. You’re like a son to me. Just let me kill the silly girl. You’ll forget all about her in a few years and you’ll find another human.” Serge scoffs, squeezing your neck a little harder and you reach up to grab his forearms.

“No.” The growl is low, furious as Max speeds towards you and his sire. Reaching out and grabbing the older vampire’s arm, he twists it to make him drop you, lowering his shoulder to push the threat away from you as he hisses, his fangs descending, deadly sharp canines on display.

You gasp, backing up into the wall as Max grabs his maker and shoves him against the wall in your hallway. The drywall cracks and Max growls as he manages to wrap his hand around Serge’s throat. “You motherfucker.” He growls and squeezes as he fumbles to open his jacket. 

“She’s worth this, Max? If you kill me, you’ll die.” Serge reminds him.

“I don’t care.” Max snarls. “As long as she lives, I can die a happy man.” Instead of tearing Serge’s head off, Max lunges forward and sinks his teeth into the man’s throat, tearing it out and then pulls out the stake he had put in his jacket. Plunging it into his maker’s chest, fully prepared to die to keep you safe.

You scream as you watch Serge explode, blood covering the walls of your apartment hall and you shake your head. “Max no!” You cry, scared that he’s going to die because of you. “Why did you do that!” You shout, “You are going to - oh God. Max.” You fall to the floor when he turns around and you see him covered in blood.

He’s getting a few more seconds. Seconds he doesn’t want to waste. Grabbing you, Max hauls you close to him and presses his blood covered lips to yours. “I love you.” He promises, right before the pressure in his body builds to the point where he screams.

You cling to him, uncaring that he’s likely to explode in a spray of blood. You want to be close to him in his final moments, the life he sacrificed for yours. “I love you.” You cry as he screams until he slumps down beside you. He doesn’t explode, he collapses onto the floor unconscious and you sob, reaching for him to caress his cheek. His bone structure is still heavy, depicting his true nature until it starts to shift under your touch. “I’m so sorry, Max.” You sob, leaning down to press your face to his chest, mourning the man you love so dearly.

Long minutes pass. His body is still and unmoving. Changing back to the body of a normal man and not exploding into a bloody pile of goop like you had expected. You continue to sob against his chest until a strange sound captures your attention. One that you realize you had never heard before despite laying on his chest after sex. A tiny thud. Repeating again and again until it starts to resemble something you never thought you would hear. A heartbeat.

You pull back, looking down at Max in shock, and he inhales sharply after several seconds, spluttering as he chokes on a breath. "Max!" You cry, thinking something is wrong until he opens his eyes. "Max. Are you - are you okay?" You ask, hands covered in blood as you cup his cheeks.

Max grimaces, his head pounding in the first headache he’s had in…..since he was turned. “I- fuck-“ he gasps out, feeling his lungs start to burn from the lack of oxygen. “I’m- I’m human again.” He whispers, realizing what all of that must mean. 

You are in shock, your palm on his thumping heart and you look at him. “Max. You’re human.” You gasp, helping him to sit up and you know he has to be feeling everything all at once. “Are you okay?”

“I feel like shit.” Max admits and after he thinks about that for a moment, he starts to laugh. “Baby, I feel like shit!” He repeats, aware that he’s never felt like shit as a vampire. “Serge must have known that killing him wouldn’t kill me.” He realizes. “Motherfucker lied.”

You caress his cheek, “you’re human.” You are in shock and You surge forward to hug him. “You’re alive. Baby. Can I - you hungry?” You ask, wanting to look after him as much as possible.

Max wraps his arms around you and frowns slightly as his stomach growls. “I- yes?” It’s more of a question since he’s only experienced thirst since being changed. “I- oh my god, baby, I’m human. I-“ he chokes up and buries his face in your neck.

You caress his back, wondering if he’s happy or angry that he’s human. “Are you- are you upset that you don’t have - that you aren’t a vampire anymore?” You ask, unable to believe how warm he feels beneath your touch. You’ve never noticed that before.

“I don’t care about being a vampire.” That’s true, he realizes as Max pulls away to look into your eyes. “I want to be with you. Forever, for twenty years, it doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you.”

Your lower lip trembles as you stare at him with tears in your eyes. “I love you Max. I want to be with you. I would’ve spent forever with you but I’m happy to spend the rest of my life with you.” You promise, “I just - I hope you don’t regret this.” You sigh, leaning in to softly kiss him.

“I’d never regret you, sweet cheeks.” Max promises you. “But I’m starving.” He groans. “And I’m so fucking sore. And my head hurts.”

“Do you want to shower and I’ll make you something to eat?” You ask, running your fingers through his blood soaked hair. “And I’ll get you some Tylenol.” You promise, knowing that he’s going to have to adjust to human life again.

Max grins, leaning in and kissing you again. “I fucking love you.” He breathes out. “That sounds like heaven. And then I want it see what human sex is like with you.” He teases, happy that he didn’t become a Jackson Pollock painting and he gets a second chance at being human, with you. “See if those swimmers work now.”

You chuckle, “well I have an IUD. Didn’t realize it was a waste of time, but let’s go get you that shower.” You say, shifting to stand up. “I love you, Max Phillips.” You say when he’s standing up and you guide him into your apartment, leaving the blood in the hall to deal with later and you shut the door, guiding Max to your bathroom. You turn on the water and work on stripping off his blood soaked clothes. “I’m so happy you’re alive. I- I should’ve stayed inside. I nearly lost you.” You choke, cupping his cheeks once he’s bare before you.

“Baby, I would do anything for you.” Max reminds you, holding onto your waist. “Even die.” He chuckles. “But I’m glad that didn’t happen.” He admits, leaning in and sighing softly.

“Me too.” You murmur, working on removing your own clothes and you guide him into the shower. “Temperature okay?” You ask and he nods. You grab the body wash you’ve kept in your shower for him and you work on washing him, loving the way he groans when you rub his head. “My hero. Saving me. Sacrificing for me. You are incredible Max.” You whisper, wanting him to know how much you adore him.

Max hums, closing his eyes and enjoying the heat of the water and your hands on his skin. “You are worth it.” He murmurs quietly. “You’re worth everything, baby.”

You smile and kiss his chest, right above his now beating heart. You owe him your life and your humanity and you will love him until the day you die. You shift to rinse him off, working fast to clean yourself up. This isn’t sexual, purely comfort and you work fast until you are handing him a towel. “Get some sweats and I’ll make you some food. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup sound good?”

Groaning, his mouth practically waters at the idea of the simple meal. “That sounds amazing. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had that?” He asks. “I will eat anything that you want to fix happily.”

You smile, happy to look after him after he’s taken such good care of you. You quickly dress in your shorts and tank top and make your way into the kitchen to prepare dinner for you both. You are surprisingly hungry after nearly being killed and it doesn’t take long for you to have the meal on the kitchen table. “Max. It’s ready!” You shout as he comes out of your bedroom.

Max stumbles out of the bedroom, his headache still a dull throb and he’s actually used the bathroom for the first time in years. “It smells amazing.” He’s drooling as he sits down and looks at the deceptively simple meal. “Thank you, baby.”

You know it’s a big adjustment for him but you’ll be there every step of the way. You set the Tylenol down with the bottle of water and tell him to drink. “Drink, baby. Take some Tylenol. You have been through a lot.” You say and he follows your order, taking two pills and swallowing them before he digs into the meal.

It tastes so good that Max can’t help but moan and groan over the meal. “Oh my god.” He moans, chewing his bite of grilled cheese and taking a spoonful of the soup. “I could eat this everyday for the rest of my life.”

You chuckle, “you can if you want. Maybe we can go back to those restaurants and you can actually eat your steak. Or try something different.” You suggest, loving the way he’s enjoying the food. You’ve never seen him like this before. You finish your meal after he does, full and suddenly exhausted. “I’ll put this in the dishwasher. Go get ready for bed. I’ll be right in.”

It’s strange to be tired after years of not sleeping. Pretending to rest while he lays with you to make you think he had just woken up. Now, his entire body feels like it’s about to shut down and he still wants to touch you. He follows your orders and goes to get ready for bed, using the tooth brush that he leaves here.

You watch him come back into your bedroom and you pull the covers over, letting him get under them with you and you shift to pull him close, throwing your leg over his hip. “You have freckles.” You murmur, tracing his chest. “You didn’t have those before.”

He chuckles a little self consciously, wondering if the human version of Max Phillips will be exciting enough for you. “Yeah.” He hums. “I used to go to the beach a lot. Oh shit, I can be out in the sun for more than ten minutes again.” He realizes, eyes widening. “Can we go to the beach this weekend?” He asks excitedly.

You smile, “of course babe. We can go.” You promise and lean in to press your lips to his collarbone. “I’m so happy you’re alive. Vampire or human. I don’t think I could ever survive without you, Phillips. I love you so much.” You confess and lean in to kiss his jaw. “You saved me.” You murmur against his skin, “let me - I want to suck your cock.” You say, grinding yourself against him.

“Baby….” He whines, loving the idea. “Okay but you can't let me cum.” He tells you breathlessly. “I don’t know if I can stay hard. And I want you to cum too.

You nod, knowing that Max’s endless fucking isn’t possible now that’s he’s human but you don’t care. You love him more than anything else. You shift to pull the covers back, loving that he’s already half hard as you carefully pull down his sweats after he lifts his hips. You settle between his legs, spitting into your hand and you grip his cock, looking at those beautiful dark eyes as you lean in to wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

“Baby, I fucking love your mouth. It’s so good for so many things. Kissing me, sucking my cock, telling me that you love me.” He groans. “I want to tell you everyday how much I love your mouth.”

You moan around him, loving how he twitches inside of your mouth, and you work the base with your fingers, letting your saliva drip down to your digits. You groan when he grabs the back of your neck and you think he's going to push you further down his cock but he pulls you off. You whine, saliva dripping down your chin, "baby. Why?" You huff despite your cunt dripping for him.

“Want to be inside you.” He pants. “Want to feel you around my cock when I cum.” There’s enough time later on for him to let you swallow his cum. Right now he’s wanting to live every day like it’s his last and make sure you know how much he adores you.

You shift, pushing your shorts down and moving fast to straddle him, wanting to take care of him after his body has gone through so much. You reach down to grip his cock. "I love you." You murmur as you start to sink down onto his cock.

“Oh fuck baby, oh fuck.” Max groans, his toes curling up. “I love how you feel. It’s so, it’s so good. You're hotter. Wetter somehow.”

“You are hotter.” You tell him, “you feel - you feel so good Max.” You moan, caressing his bare chest to place your palm over his pounding heart as you start to move. You moan his name and he hisses when you clench around him as you start to bounce on his cock.

It’s crazy to feel lightheaded and out of breath. Feeling more now that he was human again. His fingers curl into the flesh at your hips and he moans your name. “Fuck baby, your so pretty.”

You preen at his praise, making you whimper his name and you rock a little faster. He is so soft beneath your touch and you never realized how cold he was until you feel his heated skin beneath your fingertips. “God, I love you Max. So much. Need - gonna make me -” You reach between you to rub your clit, so close to your orgasm.

He watches for a moment, obsessed with how you look. Then he’s slapping your hand away to rub your clit himself. He wants to be the one to make you cum. Loving the way you immediately buck when he takes over.

Your mouth falls open as you rock on his cock. “Yes baby. Oh shit. Yes. I’m gonna - fuck. You’re gonna make me cum.” You hiss, your thighs shaking as you grip his cock inside of you. Soaking him as you cum and you slump forward into his chest.

“Oh god, oh god, that feels so good.” He moans, wrapping his arms around you and sighing softly. He’s almost content to just stay like this but he wants to feel an orgasm as a human again so he starts to rock his hips up slowly. “I love you, baby. Nothing’s gonna keep us apart.”

You know there’s so much that could keep you apart but you’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure you spend the rest of your lives together. He rocks up into you and you get yourself together so you can rock down onto his cock, loving the way he hisses when your walls grip him. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel it.” You tell him, “wanna feel you cum inside of me.”

Max whimpers, eyes closed and he gasps out your name. Knowing that he should have died today, but he’s been given a new lease on life. “I love you.” He moans, thrusting up into you and painting your walls with his hot seed.

You moan, loving how it feels and you caress his chest as he twitches inside of you. “I love you.” You murmur, wanting to say it over and over now that you’re both safe. You aren’t sure how long you stay like that, just breathing each other in as he softens inside of you

Max’s eyes close almost immediately, his arms wrapped around you and he breathes you in. Smiling softly as he truly gets to inhale your scent. He might not have eternal life or everlasting youth anymore, but he has something much better, you.

#pedro pascal #max phillips #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips smut #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips imagine #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips bloodsucking bastards

[boliv-jenta]

Max Phillips x f!reader

WC:1.9k

Warnings: my first foray into monster fucking.

Max goes through a few changes during the full moon.

For @munsonownsmyass, while you wait for your Arthur fic.

Max always thought the human take on vampires was fun. From the campy outfit to the forbidden love affairs with humans. The sparkling skin. The tortured vampires with souls. They loved to make the whole thing more dramatic than it was, often missing the simple facts.

Apparently, werewolves had the monopoly on changing during the full moon. That was another guess wide of the mark. Why did they think that the children of the night didn't have a relationship with the moon? A few nights every month Max underwent a transformation of his own. His full monstrous side tried to rise up to greet the full moon. 

After years of practice he was able to keep a pretty good handle on it. The main changes he underwent were physical. His eyes turned blood red. His skin thinned, it wrinkled and showed the blood starved veins underneath. His fingernails grew, thicker and claw-like. His strength grew, it showed in the muscles that bulged on his body. There was one other bulge that proved to be the most problematic at that time. Along with the other physical growth he experienced, his penis grew too. Max had never been small in that department so the extra couple of inches in length and the extra girth were a problem. Especially since all his senses and feelings were heightened. The brush of his own clothing against his cock had him weeping pre-cum. He used to just stock up on blood and lube and hunker down pantsless, watching porn until the sun came up. 

Then he met you. You who worked her way into his life and under his skin. You were supposed to be an office fling. A pretty piece of skirt he could fuck over his desk in between meetings. Then you saw what he was and accepted it. Just like that. At first he still locked himself away from you, too scared that anything closer to his true form would scare you off. He still hunkered down with his lube but he did it with pictures of you. Picture of you all spread out, freshly fucked on his desk. His cum oozing out of you. That all changed one month when you begged to stay with him. You'd begged on your knees. Your pretty pleas muttered against the skin of his balls as you sucked them into your mouth. He was powerless to say no to you like that. Any man, or vampire, would be. 

As the sun set, the two of you were just waking up. You were wearing a white lace nightie, looking every inch the innocent virgin. As the change took him over his hardening cock swelled rapidly. It strained against his silk sheets. It was his harsh breaths that woke you. The need to have you was almost painful. Your bright eyes blinked up at him before widening at the sight of him. They softened again when they saw how vulnerable he was.

Gently lifting the covers from him, you got your first glimpse of his cock in all its full moon induced glory. It was your turn to breathe heavily. It was as if you were captivated as you leaned down to get a closer look. Without warning you flatten your tongue against his shaft from his balls to the tip. That was enough for him to explode. He should have warned you that the other side affects to becoming incredibly horny, and his manhood growing, his load grew too. He shot rope after rope of creamy white cum all over the two of you. Even after all of that he was still hard. As you shifted his cum travelled down the valley of your tits. He was ready to blow again just from the sight. To avoid the embarrassment of cumming without being touched, he wrapped your hand under his own around his cock. It only took three swipes of your fist for him to cum again. Another load painted your delicate night dress. He wondered if he hadn't warned you well enough how bad it got. 

Then he saw the wicked flash in your eyes. You loved this. 

"Do you like being covered in my cum, Baby Girl?" Before you could answer he flipped you over and nudged his cock at your entrance. 

The barest press of it inside you had him cumming again. His release splashed against your hole, warm and thick. Even with the extra lubrication it provided, the stretch of his cockhead burned. Even though he could barely get the first couple of inches in he started thrusting. Every clasp of your tight channel felt like heaven. He even thought he could hear angels singing but it was just your moans. They increased to a chorus when his fingers slid over the excited bundle of nerves at the apex of your pussy. With your cunt gushing and spasming around him, Max was able to sink in another couple of inches. 

The way you arched up off the bed, squirming on his cock, made him cum again. This time you felt how much he gave you. The hot rush of it dripped out around him as he moved those few inches in and out. The way his thick girth dragged against your walls sent a tingle up your spine. You wanted more of his gigantic cock, you could imagine the fat head of it slamming against your cervix, filling you completely. That seemed like a far off dream as you could barely take what he was giving you. Tears had started to form in your eyes. A whimper leaving you caught Max's attention. 

"Do you want me to stop?" He paused his thrusts to take you in, he wiped away the tears that escaped.

"No!" You sounded as desperate as his cock was making you. "I just need a second. It's a lot to adjust to." A coy look crossed your face "But I want you to make me take it."

The mental image your words conjured alone made him come again. His mouth went dry as he used the moment to slip another inch in. The extra stretch had you gasping and clawing his back. "Shhh. It's okay. You're okay. You can take it."

Your body relaxed at his praise and he gained another half inch. "Oh, that's it. Good girl."

The next couple of thrusts had you gripped his well defined biceps as you tried to take him as best you could. The sensation wasn't unpleasant, far from it, but it was literally a lot to take. Your body tensed up at the thought of it.

"Do you want me to help you relax?" Max drew right back out until the curve of the head on his cock caught on your entrance. While he was waiting for your reply, he lapped at your nippled, tongue trailing through the cum on the thin fabric of your nightgown. The coarseness of his tongue made you shiver. He had mentioned there were some changes there too, to allow him to lap up the blood faster.

"Yes. Please." Your hips chased his of their own accord.

"I will, Sweetheart. I'll feel if you want me to stop though." He cupped your cheek sincerely. "Ready?"

As soon as you eagerly nodded your consent he began. "Oh, you're doing so well for me. I can feel that pretty pussy blooming for me. That's it. Take what I give you." The smooth lilt of the glamour in his voice made you believe him. You were doing so well, your body opened up for him. The burn of the stretch faded leaving you with the sensation of being filled, with the drag of his bare skin on yours, with every nerve being excited. 

"Oh, fuck." With a final jerk of his hips, he managed to bottom out. "I can feel you covering every inch of me. So warm and wet. You love it, don't you?"

"I love it." Came your far away voice. Max could tell you really did. He felt the energy he needed to compel you dip.

Pushing up onto his hands, he looked down to where you were joined. The sight of his girth disappearing into your perfect, tight, little cunt and pumping out more of your combined fluids had him cumming again with a shuddering moan.

"Christ, Sweetheart. Why didn't I let you talk me into this sooner? I need you to cum for me. I wanna feel this pretty cunt flutter on my cock. I wanna see that pretty face you make and hear all those pretty sounds. My pretty girl." He was lost in giving you shallow thrusts of his cock as his latest load dripped out onto his sheets.

"I'm going to fuck you how you like it. I know you can still take it like this. Use your safe word if it gets too much." 'How you like it' is rough as hell. Dirty too. 

That was how he accidentally ended up revealing his true nature to you. The way you wanted him to give you his cock had him feral. With your legs wrapped around his waist you begged for it harder and faster. Your nails dug into his back through his expensive suit. Biting into the flesh over his muscles that flex with the effort of pounding unto you. His normal visage slipped giving you a glimpse of his true vampire nature. He'd frozen at the recognition on your face. He waited to see how you would react. You'd reacted by fucked yourself on his cock until you came. With you still twitching around you he hoisted you up around his waist and gripped your thighs to bounce you on his length until he came with an inhuman howl. 

Back in the present, the first violent thrust of his cock, struck deep. Only a few more had you fluttering around him. The stretch of him was so much it was more like a ripple against the meat of his cock. There was not enough wits left in your head to form words, even his name eluded you. All that you could verbalise was a long moan as you arched underneath him. Another long spurt of cum filled you. Placing his hand above your pubic bone, he held you down to ease his still ridgid cock out. Once he did the only still hard thing in your body left. You were completely boneless. The buzz floated around your whole being, it came rushing back to where it had eminented from as Max's tongue dragged through the mess between your legs. He lapped up every drop of his spend. He kept licking until you were clean. Then until you were dirty again. Then cleaned you up again. He came twice on the sheets while he did.

"That was…wow." You sighed looking down at him. He'd never had a woman look at him like that. Not even with his handsome human face and expensive suits. You weren't the least bit scared of him, in fact he could see in your eyes that you adored him. That notion alone had him coating the sheets one last time.

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #max phillips smut #max phillips #max phillips x you #tw monsterfucking

[morallyinept]

Feast On This - A Max Phillips GIFLET

Uh, Jett, what the heck is a GIFLET?

Just a short 500 words or less drabble, based on inspiration that I got from a GIF. Simples.

Pairing: Max Phillips x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It's you, bub.)

Word Count: 500

Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶 "Don't hurt me, cadejo."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here

GIFLET MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

This GIFLET was inspired by the below GIF 👇🏻 and was an ASK request from @thatcultbabe-99 - Hope you like it, lovely! 🖤

The phone won’t stop buzzing, and Max sighs with an agitated growl.

“Leave it,” you whine, pulling on his tie pleadingly.

But he gently slips the silk of it out from your fingers, and you watch him reach for the phone on the coffee table.

Your phone.

Your phone, which currently has sixteen unread messages, and several missed calls from over the last few hours. All from the same determined number.

Max shakes his head, swipes over the caller ID and holds it to his ear.

“Hey champ… What? Oh no, no. She can’t come to the phone right now.” Max winks at you. “Why? Oh, because I currently have her naked and riding on my thigh.”

Smiling at Max, you continue to rock gently across the material of his pants, leaving a stickly slick as you grind.

You can feel his other hand on your back, nails gently digging in to keep you steady.

“Oh, you should see her, man. It’s fucking pretty as a picture.”

He keeps talking as you build, nodding encouragingly at you with those animated eyes. You rock a little faster, feeling it bloom.

“See, I don’t know why you felt the need to stick your limp dick inside another girl. I mean, dude. This pussy here is fucking magical.”

Max swipes his fingers down to your cunt and sucks them with a squeaky pop loud enough for your soon-to-be ex to hear down the line. “Mmm… delicious.”

You can hear the ranty voice cut in and Max rolls his eyes, imitating chatter with his hand opening and closing like a duck’s beak at you.

Losing the feeling slightly, you stand up and spy the sticky patch glistening on his pants back at you.

Watching you carefully, Max lies back into the couch cushions, his hand slipping into his pocket, giving his rock solid cock a squeeze as he listens to the ranting drone on in his ear.

He growls again.

“Listen, you little shit. I’m going to fuck your girl. She’ll like it. She’ll beg me for more and I'll give it to her. Any way she wants. Then, I’m going to turn your girl and watch, probably jacking off, as she rips your head off your neck and drinks from it like a chalice, 'kay?”

Max hangs up the phone and tosses it behind him; it disappears down the back of the sofa.

He stares at you, hungry. Hard.

“Come here and sit that tasty pussy on my face.” He beckons, still laying back on the couch, and loosens his tie.

You smirk as you crawl up to him, kneeling over his face.

“Was he mad?” You groan, as he swipes his tongue inside your folds, lapping gently at your clit.

“Hopping.” He replies, into your centre; a face full of you as he pulls you by the hips to fully sit on him.

“Mmm… good.” You reply, fingering through his hair, as the cocky vampire starts to feast on you.

🖤

#max phillips #max phillips bloodsucking bastards #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #max phillips smut #max phillips x you #max phillips x f!reader #jett's writing #jett's giflets

[chronically-ghosted]

i wanna do bad things with you

This is my submission for PedroStories 1K Celebration @pedrostories! Using “do you trust me?” and the 5+1 trope.

rating: E for explicit! 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

summary: you ask him to bite you, but he has some reservations. you agree to work up to it and test his limits.

warnings: blood play, biting, fingering, handjobs, oral, piv sex, anal sex, themes of BDSM, heavy heavy smut with some feelings peppered in bc im a softie, playing so fast and loose with vampire lore it might end up pregnant, will tag specific chapters with specific warnings

a/n: This is for all you monsterfuckers out there. May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.

🤍 Masterlist 🤍 Get notified when I post new works!

first base. second base. third base. home plate. home run. +1 (the one where he doesn't bite you)

#pedrostories1k #max phillips #5+1 #max phillips x you #max phillips smut #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x reader #max phillips x f!reader

[sugadolly]

*flirts* you have fangs…i have a neck… interesting

#i have something inappropriate to say 🙋🏻‍♀️ #about this silly vampire #max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips x y/n #max phillips smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

[simpingcowboy]

Warmth

Pairing: Max Phillips x Plus sized!Fair skinned!F!Reader, no use of Y/N, descriptions of blushing

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected PIV sex, heavy petting over clothes, creampie, pet names, Max's usually assholery (he gets sweeter I promise), usual vampiric buffoonery (mention of blood, fangs, physical transformation, and light hypnosis), lots and lots of cuddling

Summary: A double booked cabin and an out of order radiator leave you and Max Phillips trapped in a cold cabin together. However will you stay warm?

A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! This is my present for @miraclesabound :) as part of @pedrostories 's Secret Santa exchange <3 Katie, I hope you enjoy your gift! I had a lot of fun working with your prompt

The woods were dark and quiet…so quiet. An icy fog settles over the damp foliage. A strange bird laughs, cackling at your folly. It was going to snow soon…or so the forecast said. The thick foliage blocks your view of the sky. The path beneath your feet grovels with each step of your feet. The wheels of your baggage behind you teeter over the uneven dirt ground.

It's not until you see a set of lights up head you feel you can breathe again. Slowly, a small cabin comes into view. A humble stone cottage, single level. An oddly shapely home, that gave it an inviting silhouette. Fixed with a bright red door. It was beautiful. Everything the brochure had promised and more. You could only hope the inside was as lovely too. You ran up to the door, digging the key out of your pocket eager to escape the cold. Then-

"Fucking finally!" A man swings the door wide open. He's tall, wearing thick fleece navy blue sweatpants and a white V neck shirt. A red fleece blanket wrapped around his shoulders. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to get here?"

For a moment, you panic. This must be the guy you're renting from. You'd thought after he sent you the key that'd be it but maybe- "I'm s-sorry! I didn't mean to be this late. I got lost on the road and then the walk here I just-"

"Whatever, would you just get in here and fix this goddamn radiator please? It's freezing in here!" The man moans out with a shiver.

You pause. Fix the radiator? "Wait- this is 346 Kings Lane? Right?"

He scoffs at the question, offering you a quick shrug. "I don't know, I'm just renting the place." The stranger glances over to his set of keys on a hook, the address printed on the tag. "Yeah yeah you've got the right place now get-"

"Hold on- I'm supposed to be renting this place this weekend."

"You…wait so you're not here to fix the radiator?"

"No. I'm not." You gesture to your luggage in tow.

"Fuck…" He bites his cheek in annoyance. A passing thought tells him he should simply just eat you there and then. That is until he looks at you. Really looks at you. His eyes slowly drag over your body from toe to head. The look of annoyance slowly fading from his face. Being replaced with a look of mischief. You have something much more valuable to him that a quick snack.

You also get a good look at him. Short brown hair, neatly trimmed. Round bright brown eyes to match. A handsomely arched nose. You get a clear look at his pouty lips on his clean shaven face. Despite his tanned skin, the man looks strangely cold. Not flushed and red as you were from the cold. Just pale. Despite his odd affliction, there was no question about the attractiveness of the stranger. Had he not just yelled at you three minutes ago, you'd find him doubly attractive. "Double booked I'm guessing?" You offer up to the stranger.

"Something like that. I-" He snaps his eyes up, gazing deep into yours. A smirk on his lips. "Listen. Why don't you come inside and we sort this all out tommorow, huh?" He says with an alluring charm as he pulls the door open for you. A switch from his initial attitude towards you.

You felt cautious…rightfully so. Trapped out in the woods with a stranger. But what else was there to do? Night grew darker with each passing moment. A few flecks of snow began to fall. Soon a few feet would cover the ground.

You let out a sigh. A puff of condensation emerging from your lips in the cold air. You look up meeting his gaze. "Sure…thank you."

You breach the doorway, pulling your bag in behind you. The stranger shuts the door behind you. A shiver running up your spine. It's definitely cold in here; less so than outside but notably so. At the least the inside of the cabin looks nice. A quaint kitchen to the left, an old brick oven taking center stage. Lots of wood furniture. A dim auburn light fixture set over a dining table. The far back wall leads to what you assume is the bedroom and bathroom. To the right, the living room. Where the stranger had obviously been making himself at home at before you'd arrived. A stack of blankets piled onto the couch. In front of the unlit fireplace lie a graveyard of matches and paper; obviously unsuccessful attempts to start a fire.

You take off your outer layers, scarf, hat, outer jacket. Out of the corner of your eye you see the stranger's eyes fixating on you. Something intense in his gaze that makes you chuckle. This definitely is not your best look. Wrapped in layer after layer. You were certainly not a small woman to begin with, the extra layers do little to highlight your best features. Not to mention the flushed red cheeks you spotted from the stinging winter winds. No…he was likely not looking at you like that.

"Since we're stuck here together. Might as well get to know each other." The stranger approaches you, an outstretched hand. "I'm Max."

"Hi Max." You give him your name, and take his hand in yours shaking it. He's cold…unbelievably cold- inhumanely cold. His hand on yours threatening to freeze you to the touch. You quickly retract your hand back. "So uh the radiator is out?"

"Been out for a couple hours." He retorts in a bothered tone. "I tried to start the fireplace but- let's just say I was never a boy scout!" He says playfully.

You offer back a light chuckle. "That's for sure." You say gesturing to his failed attempts. "I've got some fire starters on me. I should have it up in a bit."

Max perks up at that. "You're the best." He offers up a big smile. "Can I get you anything while you do that? Water?"

You nod, "Water would be nice…actually if you've got any food too I'd appreciate it."

"Uh-" Max hesitates, thinking back to the fridge of blood bags behind you. "Let me see what I can do!" He claps his hands cheerfully going off to the kitchen. "You just get started on that fire!"

You rummage through your bag, eventually finding the fire starters. You make quick work of the fire, getting it going within a few minutes. A sigh of relief when it begins to kindle. You sit in front of it, watching it gradually grow.

"Fire's going!" You call out to Max, still in the kitchen.

"Great!" He calls back, hastily working to shove all his blood bags in a secluded section of the fridge where you can't see them.

Max can't risk you finding out…not right now. Needs you. Needs you alive. With blood pumping through your veins. The cold wouldn't kill him, but it didn't mean it was pleasant to be in sub zero temperatures. It made his bones ache. Max liked being warm. Though warmth was something sacrificed at work, it was a luxury he was willing to pay for on his vacation. That's why he was so excited when he saw you. He couldn't quite make out all of you under all those layers, but he could tell you were bigger, warmer. Damn pretty too. Maybe if he's really lucky, you'll let him in somewhere extra warm. The thought brings a devilish grin to his face.

Thankfully, he was able to scavenge the cabinets for the right ingredients for a simple sandwich. Max excitedly walks over to you, a plate in one hand and water in the other. He plops down beside you, sliding the food and water to you.

"Dinner is served!"

You offer him a small smile in return. "Thank you, Max."

"My pleasure." He says with a grin. "Glad you got that fire started. Thought you were gonna freeze to death." He says with a chuckle.

You laugh back. "Yeah? I think out of the two of us you'd be the one to freeze to death first."

"Maybe." He responds simply with a shrug.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, just warming by the fire. You enjoy the sandwich Max made. Simple, but filling. Eventually, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to change into pajamas. You swap out the heavy layers of clothes for more comfortable breathable set. A pair of comfy fleece bottoms and a snuggly form fitting top. Making your way back to the fire, you don't miss how Max's eyes trace over your body. More time passes. Your eyes getting gradually heavier and heavier. A yawn escaping you.

"You're getting tired?" Max asks in a soft voice. He sounds so inviting.

"Yeah…been a long day."

"Come here." He extends his arms out to you.

"What?"

"Sleep up against me."

"I-I can sleep in the bedroom it's -"

"It's cold there, remember?" Max ups his hypnotizing influence on you. "You can sleep on me, right against the fire." He flashes you a bright fanged smile. "Come here. It's okay."

In your sleepy daze, you easily give into his influence. You shuffle into his arms. Your head rests comfortably against his shoulders. His cold hands wrapping around you, resting on your waist. Max smiles in victory, finally getting his hands on your warmth. He eagerly snuggles his face against your hair, taking in every ounce of warmth he can from you. Within minutes you're fast asleep in his arms.

You rest easy in his arms for a couple hours. Max had held you close the whole time, simply enjoying your warmth. All the while admiring how pretty you looked in the light of the fire. A soft crackling of which steadily wakes you.

"Mmm" you whine in a half awake state. You slowly take in your surroundings, remembering where you are.

"Good, you're awake. Been waiting to do this." With ease Max picks you up and onto his lap. Your body lying across his. "Oh that's so much better." He says with a sigh, snuggling against your face. "You're a terrific cuddler." He smiles into your cheek. His nose pressing against you.

You jump at the unexpected transition, also not expecting Max to be able to pick you up so easily. You notice the way he hadn't even broken a sweat moving you. "Good morning to you too."

"Not morning yet Baby. Just barely one AM." Max teases, one hand rubbing over your thigh. Relishing the feeling of you on him.

You shiver when Max's cold palms run over your thighs. Not freezing as they were earlier, but still a few degrees colder than you. "Max? Are you still cold?"

He chuckles, "I've always been a bit cold blooded."

"Can I help?"

A devilish smile creeps across Max's face. "Well- you know skin to skin contact is the best way to get warm."

Your face goes red. Mind flooding with inappropriate thoughts. Certainly Max was attractive but-

"Up to you Sweetcheeks. But I'm-" Max lifts your chin, bringing your eyes on him "just dying to feel you."

"I think I can help." You give him a soft smile

"That's what I thought you'd say." He returns your smile. Crashing his lips hard against yours.

Max's hands are already peeling your shirt off, eagerly groping at your breast. He loves the feel of them. Just like his own personal hand warmers. His icy hands quickly make your nipples harden. Beneath you, his cock twitches in his sweatpants. You grind down on him wanting to feel more. He groans loudly into your mouth.

"Come here Baby." Max tears his shirt over his head. He turns you away from him, your back pressing against his bare chest. "So good for me."

His hands circle around your middle, enjoying the vastness of your body. How much warmth you have to offer. Just how much of you there is to take. Max nuzzles your neck. The way your heart pounds exciting him more. Your blood smells so good. His cool tongue drags up the side of your neck, subduing the urge in him to bite into you. His cock insistent against your behind, pushing against you through the layers of cloth between you.

"Gonna let me feel you here too?" He teases, a hand snaking down to cup your wet pussy.

Even through your fleece pants his touch is electrifying. There's something sinful in it. To let this man you barely know feel you like this. Yet there too is an intense romance to it. Two strangers, meeting by chance. Exploring each other by the fireside. Large hands traverse the expanse of your body, not missing or shying away from a single part of you. Relishing in what is. Eager to get close. In turn you press back against him, firmly ground against his cock. Your arms lifted up behind you to grab onto Max's shoulders wide and beautiful.

"Please?" You moan out your answer. "I want you."

"Lift up for me." Max requests, hands stationed at the waist of your pants.

You do as he asks, lifting your hips enough for him to wiggle your bottoms off. Max uses this opportunity to rut his own pants down, freeing his cock. You settle back down onto his lap. His cock jutting up between your thighs. He's girthy. A good length. A pretty pink mushroom head shamelessly spreading precum along your thigh. Max rests his chin over your shoulder, looking down at your body. A low growl eminates from him.

"Fuck- such a pretty pretty pussy." Max spreads your lips with his thick fingers. Licking his lips he says, "If I knew you were this delicious I'd have done this when you first walked in."

Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for more. You ask lowly into his ear "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Needy thing." He smiles, quickly fulfilling your request.

Max shifts his hips, sheathing his length in you in one thrust. He smiles at the whine that leaves your lips as he does. Hips grind hard against yours. Pleasure running through you with each rock of his hips. A satisfied groan comes from Max.

"Now that's warm." He smiles into your neck. Running kisses along your face.

Moans of pleasure slip your filter. All your worries so far away. Secluded out in the woods you could be as loud as you wanted. Under the gaze of this stranger you were free of judgement. Max just felt so good. Filling you perfectly, every thrust rubbing the head of his cock against your g spot. His hands teasing over your sensitive spots. Chilled fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. Wet kisses greeting your face and neck. He nibbles at your neck, sucking soft red marks into your skin. You wince at the sharp canines that graze over your jugular.

Gradually you build up speed. Leveraging your knees on the blanketed floor to ride him. Max guides you, hands planted firmly on your hips as he rocks up into you. The cabin walls echo each sound made between the two of you. A long mix of wet slaps as you slam back down onto Max and cries of pleasure. That tight coil in your stomach threatening to snap with each passing moment.

"Max I-I'm close!" You groan out between bounces.

"Me too. Come here!" Max closes one arm around your waist tightly, pulling you close to his chest. His other hand follows over your belly down to your clit. Talented fingers rub you in time to your movements. "Cum for me." He demands, face turned up into a snarl. Holding onto any semblance of control, fighting back from his body's natural push to switch to his vampiric form.

"Max!" You cry out. Your walls clamp down around him tightly. That coil unravels, sending waves of pleasure ricocheting through every part of your body. "S-so good!" You moan, reaching to kiss him.

Max stops you, turning his face away from yours. "Look at the fire, Sweetcheeks. Just feel. Feel good for me." His hand caresses over your quivering thigh as he continues to fuck up into you chasing his own high. "So pretty…so tight. S-so fucking warm." He groans in your ear.

Within a dozen more thrusts he's filling you up with ropes of cum. An aching hiss slips Max as his face contorts into his natural state. He stills, resting inside you, face tucked in your back. You hear his heavy pants behind you as you struggle to catch your breath too. His hands run languid lines up and down your sides.

He softly murmurs words of praise, "Good girl…best girl. Took it so well."

As he calms himself he's able to shift back to his human face. Just as quickly he pulls you into a kiss nearly devouring you. Sharp fangs he neglected to put away, nip at your bottom lip. He pulls away slowly, taking in the sight of you in the light of the fire. A blush creeping across your face. A sudden feeling of shyness overcoming you.

"Hi…" you say quietly.

Max laughs, "Hi? You rock my fucking world and all you have to say is hi?" He delivers a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're too much Sweetcheeks."

You laugh back at him nervously. "I-I don't know I didn't wanna assume anything-"

"Baby. You're gonna have to drive a stake through my heart before I willingly leave this tight cunt." Literally.

You crack a smile at his dramatics. "Well…are you at least warm now?"

"Very." He replies confidently.

A soft yawn catches in your throat. Your lack of sleep once again catches up with you.

"You sleepy, Baby?"

You give him a nod in response. "Think you wore me out."

Max smiles at that. "It's okay. Just rest. We can talk more tomorrow, Pretty Girl." He brushes his hands through your hair. Slowly putting you to sleep.

Sometime the next morning, Max's phone starts ringing. Not wanting to disturb you he carefully shuffles you off his lap. You stir for just a moment before settling into the pile of blankets and closing your eyes again. He steps outside to take the call. His friend, another vampire he'd met in school. The one he was renting the cabin from.

"Hey Max! How's everything?"

"Uh well- I've worked it out, but the radiator is still out and there's this girl here-"

"Ah yeah!" his friend laughs on the other end of the line. "Do you like your little surprise?"

Max pauses for a moment. "Surprise?" He repeats uncertainly.

"Yeah, the girl! Pretty thing. Picked her out just for you. She's the right blood type and-"

"Wait! What do you mean picked her out? D-did you pay her or?"

"Pay her? No. I lured her there. Got her to 'rent' that cabin and- Max you…you were supposed to eat her…you did eat her, right? I mean" the man scoffs into the phone. "What else does a vampire do with some random lost lady in the woods?"

Max is silent. Quietly biting his inner cheeks. Trying to think through everything. 'Sleep with her' was obviously not the right answer to that question…

"Max? You there bud?"

"Yeah I uhh- listen- fuck did you actually make her pay to come here?" Max says almost in disbelief.

"It's good right? Trick'em into paying me to lead them to their death and then-"

"Give her a refund." Max says sternly.

"...What?"

"Issue her a refund. And get this goddamn radiator fixed would you?" Max snaps at the man on the phone.

"Woah yeah uhh…I mean I guess I can yeah. I'll get on the radiator thing."

"Good. See you later. Oh- and just to be clear. That extra income is gonna be a bitch to hide on your taxes." He quickly hangs up the phone, letting out an annoyed sigh. Before turning back into the cabin.

You slowly wake at the sound of Max's return. Even soft footsteps echo loudly against the stone walls. You stir, carefully rising from your spot on the floor.

"Max?" You ask as you rub your eyes.

"Hey, you're awake." He says, a feeling of guilt pangs at him. Even if he did nothing wrong. He knows, had the radiator been working things likely would have gone much differently.

"Mhmm well-" you let out a low yawn, "mostly. Did you get in contact with the owner?"

"Yeah, I did. He's gonna give you a refund."

"Really? Even if I'm- well I guess I only got to stay for a night."

Max kneels beside you. "You know, you can stay if you want. Besides, who knows when the radiator will get fixed…" He takes your hand into his cold ones. "And you wouldn't want me to freeze to death? Would you?" He teases, leaning into a kiss.

You kiss him back, smiling against his lips. "No! I'd never let you freeze." You look up into his deep brown eyes. He's even prettier in the soft light of day.

"Good girl. Now scooch!" He plops down beside you, bumping your hips with his as he moves under the blanket with you. Eager to spend his weekend basking in your warmth and beauty.

#Am writes #pedrostoriesgift22 #pedrostories #max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips smut #max phillips x F!reader #max phillips x plus sized!reader

[palioom]

day twenty - mind control

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 859

warnings:18+ content; no use of y/n; vampires, dubcon, mind control, degradation & praise, office sex, blowjob/deepthroat

• kinktober 2023 masterlist •

She should have heeded the warnings of her coworkers. Never be alone with Max Phillips and never look him in the eyes for too long.

Something had always been off about him, but she didn’t think that the rumours about him being a vampire were true.

Vampires? No way.

That was some Twilight shit, but not reality.

But now? His smooth voice commanded her down to kneel in front of him, his legs spread wide, hard cock resting against his soft stomach. But she didn’t actually hear him, at least that was what she realized, the voice was in her head, her mind blank except for it.

Down on the floor. Come closer.

She did, guided by an invisible force, shuffling forward, her empty eyes on him.

“Just like that, toots. What a good girl you are.”

There was some form of fear inside of her, but the wetness between her legs betrayed her, hands moving to his thick thighs, head ducking forward.

Like she was a puppet on a string and Max was the puppeteer, the grin on his face wide, sharp teeth showing as her mouth was guided to his cock.

The salty taste spreading on her tongue when her lips wrapped around him, gently sucking.

His laugh rang out above her, dark and oh so smooth, one of his large hands threading into her hair, pushing her further down, his hips canting upwards in time with the movements he controlled.

It was scary, how good it felt. To be controlled like this, her pussy aching to be filled. 

“Tastes good, doesn’t it, toots?” Max asked, chipper and sweet as always, mocking. “Looking so damn pretty with some thick cock in your mouth, always knew that yapping mouth was good for more.”

She whined, the sound cut off as she took him all the way, the fat head nudging at the back of her throat and making her gag.

All the way down, just stay there.

Her throat burned, trying to take deep breaths, her own hand suddenly moved in between her thighs, legs spreading wider to allow her to touch herself. 

“I know you’re dripping wet under that slutty skirt of yours, toots, don’t be so surprised.”

Max groaned when a moan escaped her, muffled around his cock, her fingers playing with her clit, all guided by him, her head delightfully empty. Rocking back and forth as her head finally moved up again, letting her take big gulps of air, tears in the corners of her eyes.

Fingers still moving as he gave her a pause, Max took in her parted lips and half-lidded eyes, her shallow breaths which hitched as her fingers dipped deeper and plunged into her dripping hole.

“Please, Max, please.”

Was that her own voice? Was he making her say these things? She couldn’t tell, but she wanted to yell out his name, have him fuck her over his office desk.

Desperate for him.

“Don’t worry, sugartits, you’ll have more of me.” He chuckled, his hand moving her down again as the command in her head aided her.

Gagging on him, nose pressed against his abdomen, over and over again as spit dribbled down her chin.

His voice grew darker, into a growl and clearly close. Her fingers moved faster in turn, guided by the invisible strings he held, way beyond how she would usually fuck herself, her sounds louder but muffled around him.

“I should’ve fucked your mouth sooner, toots.” He groaned, head tipped back while her movements sped up, trying to concentrate on the commands he gave her. “Gotta give you a promotion for being such an amazing secretary!”

Down.

She whined loudly, her own fingers pushing her over the edge, and she knew her movements would have faltered if they hadn’t been in his control, quickly turning the pleasure into pain as she struggled to breathe around his thick cock.

Her throat constricted around him, tongue working him to completion when he spilled himself, right down her throat with a growl that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“That’s it, toots, you’re such a talented slut!”

Finally letting her go, her fingers stopping, her body limper than before as she felt the invisible strings fall away, breathing hard.

She looked up at him with a dazed expression, still not entirely sure what just happened, but knowing that she enjoyed it.

Max looked dishevelled, so unlike she had seen him before, his short hair clinging to his forehead, sweat dripping down his temples and his tie askew.

Still with that wide grin on his face, his fangs peeking out and making her shiver.

What it would be like for him to bite her? Would she become a vampire too? Could he still control her mind if she was like him?

“Someone’s excited, toots.” He laughed, his grin turning cruel. Eyes piercing, leaving her unsure if her thoughts were entirely her own or if he was still controlling her. “You’ll find out soon enough, you pretty, eager thing.”

She swallowed hard, fear and excitement mixing in her stomach.

Oh, how she would love to find out.

#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #bloodsucking bastards #kinktober 2023 #my writing